My Chef Husband Refused to Cook for Me but Fed My Student Chapter 04

My Chef Husband Refused to Cook for Me but Fed My Student Chapter 04

I woke up again at five in the dead of dawn.

All thanks to Renner. I’d never known someone could pull through a severe anaphylactic shock and wake up on their own.

My phone flickered on the floor. I bent to pick it up—messages from Renner stared back at me.

Renner: [Seren Veyra, you’re getting more and more unreasonable. Liora suffered a mild burn on her instep. The doctor said she’s lucky we treated it fast, or it would’ve left a permanent scar. This is all your fault for throwing a fit and stirring up trouble late at night.]

Renner: [Don’t take any surgeries tomorrow. Come to the hospital and look after her. She got hurt because of you—you can’t just walk away from your responsibility.]

Renner: [Starting tomorrow, Liora gets a full week off. All her patient notes and prep work falls to you to cover.]

I stared at the three texts, then slowly pushed myself upright off the floor.

Bitter acid surged up my throat, and I clung to the wall, shuffling one slow step at a time toward the first-aid kit.

He’d panicked over a minor burn on Liora’s foot. I’d laid unconscious for god knew how long, stuck in seafood shock. Not a single word of concern from him.

I swallowed the anti-allergy pills and flipped my phone screen dark.

I opened the closet, folded my handful of everyday clothes, and tucked them into a suitcase.

Seven whole years of my life fit neatly into a twenty-four-inch suitcase. I didn’t have to shove the lid down at all. The zipper glided shut smoothly, no struggle whatsoever.

I sat on the edge of the bed, taking one last look at this bedroom. Then I turned and headed downstairs.

Meanwhile, Renner stood in the hospital hallway outside the patient room, staring down at his phone. He’d sent three messages, and not a single reply from me.

He scrolled up their chat history. Most of the time, it was my rambling on, and he’d only ever reply with a quick alright.

He locked his phone, shoving the sharp restlessness from his face.

The ward door creaked open behind him. Liora hopped out on one uninjured foot.

Renner stepped forward fast to steady her, his voice tight with worry.

“What are you doing out here? Do you need the restroom? I’ll call a nurse for you.”

Liora shook her head, glancing both ways down the empty hallway.

“Is my mentor around anywhere?”

Renner’s tone turned stiff, forced casual.

“Seren’s got a terrible temper, and she’s the one who hurt you. She’s probably home throwing a sulk. I texted her and got nothing back—she’s likely already dead asleep without a care.”

Liora dropped her gaze, her voice quiet and glum. “I ruined my mentor’s birthday.”

The words slipped out of Renner before he could stop them.

“It’s fine. We can throw her dozens more birthdays later. One ruined night doesn’t mean a thing.”

He paused mid-thought.

He’d missed so many of her birthdays over the years, one after another.

“Once things slow down next year, I’ll throw Seren a huge proper birthday party to make up for it.” He said it like a solid promise.

Liora shook her head again.

“Don’t wait for later. Your partner deserves care right when she needs it.”

She spun around, grabbed an insulated food bag from the bedside table, and held it out to Renner.

“A coworker gave me creamy New England lobster chowder. Take it back to my mentor. She skipped dinner earlier, and she threw up too—her stomach must be killing her.”

Renner moved to turn her down on instinct. “No need, Seren’s allergic to sea—”

His hand froze mid-air.

“Seafood.”

The last word came out cracked of him, raw with horror. I was deathly allergic to seafood. And he’d fed me salmon.

All the color drained straight from Renner’s face in an instant. His phone slipped from his grasp, clattering dully against the tile floor.

Liora jumped in alarm.

“Chef Renner? What’s wrong?”

Renner didn’t answer.

It hit him all at once—she’d sent him zero updates since last night. What if she’d slipped into shock alone at home?

He spun on his heel and bolted out of the ward, rushing so fast he knocked over an IV pole in the hallway. The metal frame crashed down with a shrill, scraping shriek.

He crashed straight into the Medical Director, who was rounding with a group of senior attending physicians.

The Director halted mid-step, his eyes confused as he spotted Renner.

“Renner Thorne? What are you doing here?”

“Dr. Veyra’s transferring over to the Military Treatment Facility today. Why aren’t you over there helping her move her supplies? What are you rushing off for this early morning?”

Renner’s whole body went rigid.

He froze fully, staring wide at the Director, his voice torn raw from his throat as he forced the words out.

“Did you say… Seren’s being transferred where?”