He Called Me Disgusting, Then Kissed Her ForkChapter 1
Three years of marriage, and because my husband had germaphobia, we'd always eaten from separate dishes.
Until the day I caught him sharing a meal with his little assistant.
She'd left half a bowl of food uneaten. He picked it up and finished every last grain.
I didn't make a scene. I just organized a group dinner the next day.
When the meal was winding down, I scraped everyone's leftovers into his bowl.
"Eat up. Aren't you the one who hates wasting food?"
He didn't say a word. His little assistant was the one who lost it first.
"Mrs. Matthews, you've spent three years as a housewife, never once checking a price tag, all because of Mr. Matthews's generosity."
"And now you're humiliating him in public over something so trivial? How ungrateful can you be?"
I wasn't angry. I just said, "You're fired."
My husband, who had always been the picture of composure, slammed his palm on the table and turned on me for the first time in our marriage.
"Judith Randall, you have no right to fire my employees!"
I let out a quiet laugh. Once a man goes bad, there's no point keeping him around.
Worst case, I'd just recruit another one.
——
My husband called out of nowhere to say he was working late and couldn't make it home for dinner.
As luck would have it, my best friend had just texted me, so we decided to grab barbecue together.
As we passed a restaurant, she pointed at the table near the floor-to-ceiling windows. "Doesn't that guy look like your husband?"
I looked closer. Even though it was just a view of his back, I recognized Bruno Matthews instantly.
Across from him sat his new assistant, the one who'd joined the company less than a month ago.
Ellie Butler's brow furrowed slightly as she stared at the half-finished bowl of egg fried rice in front of her, looking troubled.
Bruno saw the look on her face and smiled indulgently. He reached over, took her leftover rice, and shoveled it into his mouth in a few quick bites. Not a single grain remained.
I froze.
Bruno had severe germaphobia. In three years of marriage, we had never once shared a dish.
One time I'd picked up a piece of fish for him and forgot to use the serving chopsticks. He dumped the entire bowl of rice along with the fish straight into the trash. The whole plate of fish I'd touched? He didn't take a single bite.