Chapter 37

When I heard the word "cooking," I froze for a moment. In my mind, I couldn’t connect Alexander with cooking. "Vivienne, you don’t know this, but actually, Alexander is pretty good in the kitchen. When he was in college, he lived alone and became quite the cook. He would often cook for me," Isabella said, clearly trying to provoke me, her voice dripping with intent to hurt. I knew exactly what she was doing, but it still stung. If a man is willing to cook for the person he loves, it’s a clear sign of how much he cares. But in our three years of marriage, Alexander had never once cooked for me. I didn’t even know he could cook. I had heard that cooking could strengthen a couple’s bond, and even though we had a professional chef at home, I’d tried my hand at it sometimes, but Alexander never once helped me. That’s the difference between love and indifference. I pushed down the ache in my chest and said as calmly as I could, "Give the phone to Alex