My Chef Husband Refused to Cook for Me but Fed My Student Chapter 02

My Chef Husband Refused to Cook for Me but Fed My Student Chapter 02

Renner fully thought I couldn’t recognize his signature shortbread, and he piled on more criticism without a pause.

“You’re her attending physician, but you let her clean up all your messes every shift. She never complains, and you just walk all over her.”

I stared at him, totally stunned.

“When have I ever made Liora fix my work for me?”

“Need I spell it out?” Renner tossed his phone hard onto the pillow. “She stayed till three AM last Thursday finishing your surgical charts while you napped in the break room.”

The memory clicked right into place.

That emergency liver rupture surgery dragged from five PM straight till two AM. My hands shook so bad I could barely grip a pen once I stepped out the OR.

Liora volunteered instantly.

“Let me wrap up the charts, Ms. Veyra. I could use the practice anyway.”

She was the sharpest junior resident I’d ever trained.

Every surgery, every overnight shift, every stack of medical files I assigned her were the exact grind I’d pushed through alone back in the day.

The work was brutal, but if she stuck to the schedule, she’d lead her own surgeries within a year—our hospital’s new star.

Somehow, all of that read to Renner as me burning her out for my own convenience.

I locked eyes with him, my tone sharp and tight.

“Doesn’t it feel like you care way too much about Liora inside this house?”

My blunt question cut through the room, and Renner clamped his mouth shut immediately.

I didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. I sank onto the couch and mindlessly scrolled takeout apps.

Harsh blue light washed over my face, page after page of restaurants I’d ordered from a thousand times over.

Seven years stuck in a house where cooking was forbidden, scrolling tiny screens just to pick garbage to fill my stomach.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

Renner wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, softening his tone—but it still reeked of lazy excuses.

“I don’t hover over Liora ’cause I like her. It’s just… she reminds me so much of you, back when we first met.”

My scrolling finger froze dead.

“You remember how brutal your old attending was to you?”

“You had dark circles bigger than your eyes every single day.”

I remembered. Of course I did.

Renner hadn’t blown up with his fancy bistro back then. Watching me drag myself home pale and exhausted drove him up the wall.

He rented a tiny studio with no proper kitchen near the hospital, bought a flimsy electric skillet. He cooked meals for every nurse on my floor nonstop, begging them all to keep an eye on me.

Cooking fumes burned his throat raw, but he never skipped a single day.

I once found him crying into the counter, completely worn out from taking care of me.

“So you’re pulling that exact same routine for Liora now?” My voice shook, thin and fragile.

Renner didn’t deny it. He pulled me tighter against his chest.

“I just wanna help her. She’s all alone in this city, no family to lean on.”

“What about me?”

He said nothing.

Silence stretched a beat. Then he pulled a cake out from behind his back like a cheap party trick, ready with a half-baked apology.

“I grabbed this just for you.”

“Quit moping, yeah? Your birthday’s not over yet.”

I dropped my gaze to the cake, piled high with fresh strawberries—my favorite fruit.

Renner sliced a small piece onto a plate and held it out toward me.

I hesitated a split second, grabbed the fork, and bit off a chunk.

The buttercream coated my tongue thick, It tasted cloying, fake sweet enough to turn my stomach.

It was the generic pre-made recipe from the bakery down the street.

Liora could tell stale shortbread from a mile off. I knew every note of this bakery’s baked goods like the back of my hand.

I’d bought dozens of these exact cakes on nights I couldn’t stomach another takeout meal over seven long years.

I chewed slowly, swallowed the cloying bite, and set the fork down hard on the plate.

Every tiny bit of hope I’d held onto died right then.

I lifted my head, staring Renner dead in the eyes.

“Renner.”

“Hmm?”

“We’re breaking up.”