ManyWriters

I hurried to the hotel on my beat-up electric scooter, eager to tell my wife that our coffee shop was finally about to land its first big order.
As I pushed open the door to the banquet hall, I froze in shock.
A ragdoll cat was rolling around on the cake I had stayed up all night to make.
My wife walked over, stepping on cake crumbs strewn across the floor. Without even glancing at me, she fastened a platinum collar around the cat's neck, then moved close to adjust that man's tie.
I looked down at my flour-covered work uniform, then at the cheap plastic pendant hanging from my daughter's neck.
So this was the "high-end market" she had been talking about. It was never about our coffee shop.
Ten years of marriage, shattered at a pet party.

The Aftertaste is Not Gone

She gently closed the bedroom door, turning with an apologetic expression.


"Asher, I didn't think through the situation with Orange. How about we get a kitten instead?"


Seeing my silence, she took the initiative to wrap her arms around my waist.


"Don't be like this. For Meadow's sake..."


My heart turned cold. Did you ever think about your daughter waiting at home when you were tangled up with Gunner?


In the dead of night, as I was drifting off to sleep, I suddenly felt the mattress dip. A silk scarf wound around my wrist.


"Rustle... rustle..." The sound of silk rubbing was unusually clear.


Startled, I realized she hadn't stayed the night in ages, and I'd forgotten to lock the door.


By the time the scarf was knotted around my wrist, I was wide awake.


Her lips drew close to my ear, her breath hot, her fingers trailing across my chest.


My mind was flooded with images of her and Gunner. The feel of the scarf was like a poisonous snake coiling around me, suffocating and nauseating. I couldn't hold back anymore and vomited right on her.


Her expression changed instantly as she asked if she really disgusted me that much.


She glared at me with gritted teeth, noticing my reddened eyes.


She angrily got up and went to the bathroom. After I cleaned everything up, I realized she had vanished.


But faint sounds were coming from the study, eerily clear in the silent night.


I tiptoed closer and heard her on a video call with Gunner."Darling... I miss you..."


The intimate words penetrate through the door crack.


My heart freezes completely, no longer able to find even a hint of warmth.


A chill runs up from the soles of my feet, as if the entire world is turning to ice.


Early morning, as I'm planning out my next moves, Meadow keeps searching for Orange.


After all, Orange has been by her side since she was born, her first playmate, always waiting for her on the coffee shop counter after school each day.


After much thought, I have no choice but to lie, telling her Orange went to grandma's house to recover from an illness and will return once better.


"Meadow wants Orange to get well soon, right?"


Only then does my daughter break into a smile through her tears, no longer pressing the issue.


When she returns home at noon, I've just finished preparing lunch. Though disgusted inside, I maintain a calm facade in front of my daughter.


She brings back a box of half-eaten macarons, the elegant packaging now crumpled.


"Meadow, these sweets are very expensive. Let's celebrate your birthday early, as Mom has to go on a business trip in a few days."


"Dad, but these are all leftovers from others."


"Be good, Meadow, just this once, don't be difficult," she says firmly.Meadow hid behind me and whispered, "Dad, I don't want to celebrate my birthday early, and I don't want desserts that someone else has already eaten."


Before I could speak, she cut off our daughter.


"Why are you being so inconsiderate..."


Seeing that she was about to scold Meadow further, I grabbed the box and tossed it into the trash.


After showing her out, I crouched down to Meadow's level and said, "On your actual birthday, Dad will make you a whole table of fresh cakes and treats, just for you."


A child's heart is always so pure, unlike her, always calculating.


Chapter 4