More than you deserve, you bastard, she thought, and placed it down in front of him.
‘No, I’m working tonight,’ he said.
She filled her glass.
‘This looks delicious.’
‘Enjoy,’ she said. ‘You deserve it.’
He wolfed it down, gristle and all.
Eight-years together and he still considered her an idiot, even with the PhD. He left to continue his affair, but tonight his whore wouldn’t show up.
Tomorrow I’ll serve him another part of her, she thought, in a honey glaze.