The Gumbo Betrayal

d my culinary dreams, even Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, to be the quiet wife he wanted, especially on our anniversary. Bu

g him-and the designer bag he' d bought her-in a Napa Valley vineyard, captioned "#soulmates." His frantic call, whispered excuses

n explanation. My indifference unnerved him far more than any fight, but he still couldn't grasp the silent

e to remember the woman I' d buried. Paris was calling,