Izabella straightened out the crumpled list she had angrily tossed onto the floor earlier. Finding a wall, she stuck the wrinkled paper against it and smoothed down the edges as best as she could.
On day one, she had cooked for Brett. He had said he'd eat whatever she made him, no questions asked. So, she decided to challenge that promise by cooking the one dish he detested the most — a dish she'd previously made in jest to ruffle his feathers. But, he hadn't touched a bite.
She whipped up a fiery stir-fry with kidney beans — a heap of jalapenos, onions, garlic, and cilantro thrown into the mix, turning the beans a deep shade of red. Izabella was so prepared for the spicy ordeal that she donned a gas mask while cooking, and she added even more chili powder to the pan. To an outsider, it might have seemed like a bizarre culinary experiment. The taste was intense but not bad — it just wasn't to Brett's liking.
Was she supposed to cater to his preferences all the time? To pamper him?
Izabella also prepared a clear soup, which was rich with collagen — a lighter choice. But Brett never liked those cuts; maybe they didn't fit the image of a CEO like himself.
With a soup, a spicy dish, and a pot of white rice prepared, Izabella finished her cooking.
Whenever she cooked for Brett, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to dark places. She’d even thought of adding poison to the soup, so as to end his misery once and for all. People do think of desperate measures to deal with someone when pushed to their limits, even if the person they hate is already battling illness.
Brett looked at the meal Izabella had prepared: the soup and the spicy dish. His expression was unchanged, with his lips curved in their usual arc. Clearly, he had anticipated Izabella's actions.
Izabella was tough, and making her yield would surely mean swallowing some bitter pills first. The fact that she cooked for him without any added toxins was already a win in his book. He didn't dare expect more. At least these dishes looked edible.
He used to be very picky about food, but now, he was willing to eat whatever Izabella made for him, and to eat them all up with gusto.
His doctor had warned him to keep his diet mild, and to avoid even a hint of chili as it could irritate his airways and affect his lungs.
A single chili could cause trouble, let alone a whole dish of them. Just the smell made his chest hurt.
Brett ladled himself a bowl of soup to cool down and then tackled the spicy dish. The first few bites were manageable, but by the fourth, the heat overwhelmed him. Soon enough, he was coughing fiercely, alternating between bites of food and sips of soup, each gulp exacerbating his cough.
He could have chosen not to eat, of course. His wish list only asked for Izabella to cook him one last meal. Whether he ate it was his call. He could've just had the soup and spared himself the pain, but he was stubborn.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Twisted Ties of Love