The Ex-Wife's Vendetta

Cassandra

I wake up to find my handsome husband lying beside me, and a smile naturally spreads across my face. I lean in and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. The words of love he expressed during our intimate moments last night still resonate with me, and it fills my heart with joy to know that his feelings for me haven't wavered.

As I sit up, I spot my clothes and quickly dress before heading to the bathroom. After a refreshing ten-minute shower, I towel-dry my body and make my way to our walk-in closet to choose today's outfit. Opting for comfort, I settle on black leggings and a white shirt. I let my hair down and allow it to air dry naturally.

With a glance at the time, I realize I still have ample time to prepare breakfast for Wesley. Trying not to disturb his rest, I tiptoe towards the door, mindful of his possible fatigue from the previous day. I quietly make my way downstairs and enter the kitchen.

Knowing his fondness for pancakes, I decide to surprise him with his favorite breakfast. Although he wasn't particularly keen on pancakes in the past, he fell in love with my version when he first tasted them. I swiftly whip up the pancakes, mindful that he may already be awake and preparing for work. Within a few minutes, the pancakes are ready, and I place them on the table, accompanied by his preferred toppings: chocolate syrup, honey, and whipped cream.

I wait eagerly at the table, and soon enough, I catch sight of Wesley walking down the street, looking impeccably handsome in his Armani attire. "Hey, baby. Good morning," I greet him warmly, approaching him and planting a sweet kiss on his lips. I can't help but smile like a love-struck fool when I look at him; he has that effect on me. Who wouldn't feel this way? He's incredibly attractive, and he's my husband.

"I already made you pancakes. Let's have breakfast," I say, taking his hand. But to my surprise, he withdraws his hand. Confused, I look at him quizzically. It's rare for him to refuse to share breakfast with me.

"I need to hurry. I have a meeting in 30 minutes," he responds, adjusting his watch. Disappointed, I continue to look at him, captivated by his presence. "Can't you at least have a bite? They're your favorite pancakes," I say in a soft tone, hoping he'll agree to enjoy breakfast together, even if it's just for a moment.

"I never asked you to make them. You can't blame me," he states bluntly. I'm taken aback by his words. He has never turned down my pancakes before, and his sudden harshness leaves me wondering if I unintentionally did something wrong last night. I can't recall anything. Perhaps he truly needs to rush for his meeting.

"But-"

"Oh, before I forget, I'm leaving for London this evening for a few days. I don't know when I'll be back. So, I really need to go now," he interrupts, getting into his car and driving away before I can respond. I stand there, watching his car slowly disappear into the distance. I sigh and hold back my tears. He's going to be away in London for a few days, which means we won't have breakfast together during that time. What worries me is that he didn't bring any suitcases or personal belongings; he only had his bag for files. I know he is well-off, but it still seems wasteful to buy new clothes for every business trip when he already has plenty.

I step inside the house and make my way to the dining room, where I find the array of pancakes on the table. Taking a seat, I begin to eat, indulging in the sweet flavors. Bite after bite, I consume the pancakes, trying to distract myself from the lingering thoughts about Wesley's sudden departure. Perhaps he's simply overwhelmed with work. I can't fault him for that; after all, he is a busy businessman. I remind myself that I need to understand his work and be prepared for the consequences, as I willingly chose to be a part of his life.