The Chef Who Cooked Up Divorce

anniversary, I left

still clung to my chef's whites as I drov

loved, a small, Michelin-starred

in my pocket, a si

led monstrosity buzzing with the

conference room, not

wide and genuine in a way I hadn't

hing with Ca

collaborator

before I finally worked up the n

ro charisma and a familiar,

ind the glass, until one of

nd when she saw me. She walked out,

oice a little too bright.

t. "Hey, man," he s

e wave of her hand. "Caleb, this is Ethan. He' s a

voted to her, I was a "friend." The word landed like a stone i

ht there. But a

ht. I' d originally put the restaurant reservation confirmation

teady. "It' s the catering contract for that big tech confere

ing back to Caleb, who was already looking at t

the last page where I' d placed a yellow sticky note, a

ck. "Hey, Cal and I were just about to grab a dri

hands were trembling. "I have to get b

, already turning away. "I' ll s

nd brushing his arm as they laughed agai