Farewell To My Cold Wife
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Summary
The Kensington family’s monthly Sunday dinners were strictly closed-door affairs. No outsiders. Ever.
Yet, Victoria’s junior assistant had somehow made the guest list, month after month.
In the past, he just sat there, playing the quiet background character. I swallowed my pride and endured it. But tonight, my five-year-old daughter, Mia, bypassed me entirely and handed the private chef’s menu directly to him, asking what hewanted to eat.
In that split second, the illusion shattered. I just felt an overwhelming, bone-deep exhaustion.
