My Chef Husband Refused to Cook for Me but Fed My Student Chapter 03

My Chef Husband Refused to Cook for Me but Fed My Student Chapter 03

The words barely slipped off my tongue when the doorbell chimed.

Renner didn’t catch a single word I’d just said.

“Hold on, I’ll get the door.”

He pulled the front door open, and Liora’s voice drifted in from the entryway.

“Chef Renner, is my mentor here? I came to celebrate her birthday!”

I stayed planted on the couch, not moving an inch.

Liora kicked off her shoes and stepped inside, cradling a cake box tight in her arms. “Happy birthday, Mentor!”

She set the cake down on the coffee table, then spotted the identical opened vanilla mixed berry buttercream layer cake already sitting there. She froze for a split second before a light laugh bubbled out.

“Wow, Chef Renner picked up from the same bakery too? We’re totally on the same page.”

Awkwardness washed over Renner’s face.

I forced a smile. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

Liora set her cake aside and swept her gaze over the quiet kitchen. She tilted her head, sounding confused.

“Why’s the kitchen so quiet? Chef Renner, didn’t you whip up an elaborate spread for my mentor?”

Renner opened his mouth to speak, but Liora had already rolled up her sleeves on her own.

“No worries at all! I brought loads of fresh ingredients—they’re all in my car downstairs!”

“Just relax, Mentor. Today you get to taste my cooking!”

With that, she darted straight back out the front door.

Renner swallowed the line he’d been about to say—that I didn’t need all that fuss—and switched gears.

“I’ll help you carry everything in.”

“Yay! Having Chef Renner as my sous chef? I’m so lucky today!”

The two stepped out together, their footsteps overlapping down the apartment hallway.

I sat alone on the couch, staring at the two cakes side by side on the table. I couldn’t summon a single smile.

The front door creaked open again. They trundled inside hauling armfuls of grocery bags and headed straight for the kitchen.

Liora pulled an apron over her head, and Renner reached around her waist to tie the strap at her back. The gesture looked effortless, like he’d done it a hundred times before.

I stood in the living room, half a wall separating me from their bustling kitchen.

The range hood droned nonstop, tall flames flaring high on the stovetop burners. Spatulas clanged against metal pans, hot oil crackling and splattering everywhere.

Their voices tangled as they tossed around recipe ideas, blending together like a seamless melody. But I was never the lead of this song.

“Mentor, dinner’s ready!”

Liora carried out a plate of sweet & sour pork cutlets. Renner followed closely behind her, balancing a large pot of soup, his apron smudged all over with grease.

They moved around each other with such natural ease, like the true homeowners of this house.

Dish after dish got laid out across the table.

Slow-braised short ribs, bright sautéed leafy greens, stracciatella soup, and a platter of honey-glazed salmon. Thick white steam swirled up from every warm dish.

But my stomach twisted violently, a strange wave of nausea rolling over me.

“Mentor, come sit down!”

Liora dragged out a dining chair, gesturing for me warmly.

I didn’t shift an inch. “I’m not eating.”

Renner had just picked up his fork. He glanced over at me, his brows knitting sharply.

“You’re still throwing a fit over earlier?”

He slammed his fork hard onto the table, his tone turning cold and sharp.

“Seren, can you act mature for once? Liora and I spent hours slaving over this whole meal just for you—do you have any idea how rare this is?”

A bitter laugh escaped my throat.

“Rare, huh?”

“A home-cooked dish cooked by you? It’s truly one of a kind.”

Seven years, and I’d never once gotten one.

Liora grew flustered beside us, her voice softening small.

“Mentor, is your stomach upset? Whatever you’re craving, I’ll make it for you right away.”

She turned to walk toward the kitchen.

Renner snatched my wrist tight, his grip brutal as he dragged me toward the dining table.

“You’re just deliberately messing with Liora. Sit down and eat.”

He shoved me roughly into the chair.

“You live off junk takeout every single day—what on earth could be too tough for you to eat?”

He speared a piece of honey-glazed salmon with his fork and held it to my mouth, leaving me no room to push back.

“Try it. Liora made it specially for you.”

A harsh fishy tang flooded my tongue. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs.

Liora didn’t know, but Renner had clearly forgotten—I suffered a severe seafood allergy.

He’d witnessed the worst attack once, when my throat swelled shut after eating salmon. He’d rushed me straight to the emergency room in the dead of night.

My stomach cramped brutally, bitter acid surging up my throat.

I doubled over and threw up all over the table’s edge, emptying every last bit of contents from my stomach.

Tears and mucus streamed down my cheeks, my throat burning like embers.

At that exact moment, a shrill scream cut through the air from the kitchen.

It was Liora, her voice cracking with sobs.

“Ah! It burns so bad!”

Renner released me instantly. He didn’t spare me a single glance.

He darted past my hunched frame. Three long strides carried him straight into the kitchen.

Through blurry, tear-steaked eyes, I watched him drop to his knees, cupping Liora’s foot in both hands, his voice tight with raw panic.

“Where’s the burn? How bad is it? Do we have ice water anywhere? Grab ice water fast!”

“It’s nothing serious, just a splash of hot oil hit my ankle…”

“It’s bright red—that’s not nothing! How could you be so careless?”

He swept her up bridal-style and headed straight for the front door.

He walked right past the dining table, not even glancing my way once.

My legs buckled beneath me, and I collapsed onto the floor, my vision fading into blackness.