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Too Late to Crave Me
Novelix
Completed
"I spent three years learning how to cook for a husband who wouldn’t touch a single thing I made. I kept making excuses for him, until I caught him on a livestream eating another woman’s burnt dinner like it was the best meal of his life. That was it. I deleted my million-follower account, took off my wedding ring, and left. Only after I was gone did Ethan find out the truth: I was the girl who’d saved his life years ago, the one he’d spent ten years trying to find. Too bad he figured it out way too late. I was done waiting for him to choose me. And by the time he wanted me back, I’d already found someone who never made me wonder if he did."
Chapters (3)
第1章
I was the most hated food influencer on the internet.
Mostly because my husband had never eaten anything I made.
Ethan Walker had struggled with an eating disorder since he was a kid, so people gave him a pass.
Me? Not so much.
Three years ago, during one of my livestreams, I handed him a pastry straight out of the oven. He took one bite and spit it into the trash in front of more than a million viewers.
The clip was everywhere by the next morning.
People called me a fraud. Said my food probably tasted like shit. For months, every comment section had some version of the same joke: if my own husband couldn't stomach my cooking, why the hell should anyone follow my recipes?
So I stopped asking Ethan to try anything.
I kept cooking, though, and eventually people stopped laughing. Three years later, my channel had millions of followers.
Ethan still wouldn't touch my food.
Then, on our anniversary, I came across a random livestream while I was waiting for him to get home.
PumpkinPieCantBake — LIVE
The girl on-screen was standing over a pan of something black and smoking.
She laughed awkwardly.
"Okay, this is really bad. My boyfriend's definitely ordering takeout."
Honestly, I felt for her.
I typed a quick comment.
Don't feel bad. Everybody sucks when they start. I learned because I wanted to cook for my husband too.
Then somebody walked into frame.
I stopped cold.
Ethan.
He took the plate out of her hands.
She immediately tried to grab it back.
"No, seriously. Don't eat that."
"Why?"
"Because I burned the hell out of it."
He picked up a fork anyway.
Then he took a bite.
I just stared.
The girl—Chloe Reed—watched him like she was waiting for him to spit it out.
He didn't.
He kept eating.
"Ethan, you don't have to do that."
"It's fine."
"You're such a liar."
He smiled at her.
"I'm still eating it."
When her eyes started watering, he wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb.
"Try again next time."
The comments started flying.
Girl that man LOVES you
Not him eating that whole thing！
Okay when's the wedding
I looked at the dinner sitting on my table.
I'd spent half the day making it.
For three years, I'd told myself Ethan couldn't eat my food because of his condition.
Watching him finish Chloe's burnt dinner made that excuse pretty hard to hang on to.
I deleted my account.
Then I took off my wedding ring and dropped it into the trash.
Ethan finally came home after midnight.
He smelled like somebody else's perfume.
He walked into the dining room, saw the food, and frowned.
"Why'd you make all this?"
I looked at him.
"You know what day it is?"
He went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.
"I had a long day, Claire."
"So that's a no."
He didn't answer.
I picked up my tablet and played the livestream.
His expression changed as soon as he saw Chloe on the screen.
Then he sighed.
"Seriously?"
"She called you her boyfriend."
"She was messing around."
"And you just let her?"
"Claire, nothing happened."
"You spent our anniversary at her place eating dinner."
"She was upset. I ate some food. You're making it weird."
I laughed.
"I'm making it weird?"
"Yes."
"You haven't touched anything I've cooked in three years."
His jaw tightened.
"Don't start with that."
"Why not?"
"You know how my eating disorder works."
"Apparently Chloe figured it out pretty fast."
"Jesus Christ."
He set the water bottle down.
"Chloe isn't some random girl. You know that."
I did.
Ethan had been kidnapped when he was a kid and left in an abandoned factory. A girl had found him there and brought him food until he was rescued.
He'd spent years trying to find her.
Now he believed Chloe was that girl.
"That doesn't mean she gets to call you her boyfriend."
"You're reading way too much into this."
"Then tell her to stop."
His expression changed.
"Watch it."
That got me.
"Seriously?"
"Don't talk about Chloe like she's doing something wrong."
"She knows you're married."
"So?"
"So she doesn't get to play girlfriend with somebody else's husband."
"Nothing is going on between us."
"Then maybe both of you should start acting like it."
His face went cold.
"Enough."
I looked straight at him.
"If she keeps doing this, what do you expect me to call her?"
"Claire."
"A homewrecker?"
"Don't."
"Your side chick?"
"Shut up."
I gave him a humorless smile.
"Then stop treating her like one."
第2章
"Shut up."
Ethan’s whole expression changed.
He looked at me like I’d crossed some unforgivable line.
"You really want to talk about the other woman?"
I stared at him.
He gave a cold laugh.
"The other woman is the one the guy doesn’t love, Claire."
Then he looked me right in the eye.
"Right now, that’s you."
That hurt.
I wish it hadn’t, but it did.
Before I could say anything, Ethan shoved the anniversary cake aside.
It hit the floor and split open.
I just stood there.
I’d spent three nights working on that cake.
Inside it was a pair of limited-edition cuff links Ethan had mentioned wanting months ago. I’d had to track them down through three different sellers.
One rolled across the floor and stopped near his shoe.
He looked at it.
For maybe half a second.
Then he said, "Chloe would never waste this much time on something so pointless."
I looked up.
"What?"
"The cake. The gifts. All of this."
He gestured around the room.
"You always have to make everything into some big production."
I couldn’t even answer.
Ethan headed for the guest room.
The door slammed behind him.
I stayed there for a while, then crouched down and picked up the cuff link.
My hand came away covered in frosting.
Three years of trying, and somehow Ethan had decided it was all just me trying too hard.
That night, I went to bed alone.
Sometime after two, I woke up with a sharp pain in my stomach.
At first, I tried to ignore it.
Then it got worse.
I curled up on my side, sweating, and reached for my phone.
Ethan was in the guest room.
Ten seconds away.
I called him.
His ringtone started down the hall.
Two rings.
Then he hung up.
I called again.
Straight to voicemail.
He’d blocked me.
While we were in the same house.
I stared at my screen, almost impressed.
Then another cramp hit, and I stopped caring.
I ordered a rideshare to the ER.
By the time I got there, I could barely stand straight. A nurse got me checked in and started an IV while I waited.
I was heading back toward my bay when I heard a familiar voice.
"Ethan, my stomach hurts."
I stopped.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Ethan came through the ER doors carrying Chloe.
Actually carrying her.
He looked panicked.
"Can somebody help her?"
A nurse hurried over.
Ethan stayed right beside Chloe while they checked her out.
A few minutes later, the doctor smiled.
"She’s fine. Looks like she just ate too much."
Ethan let out the biggest breath.
"That’s it?"
"That’s it."
He sat on the edge of Chloe’s bed.
"You scared the hell out of me."
She pouted.
"It really hurt."
"Yeah, because you ate enough for three people."
She leaned against him.
"It’s your fault."
"My fault?"
"You cooked too much."
I froze.
Ethan laughed.
"So now I’m in trouble because you liked dinner?"
"It was too good."
He shook his head and smiled at her.
"Next time, I’m cutting you off."
"No, you’re not."
"Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you overdo it again."
She grinned.
Then he added, "If you want it again, I’ll make it."
I stopped listening after that.
Ethan had cooked for her.
The same man who wouldn’t even walk into our kitchen if I was using the stove because the smell supposedly made him sick.
I looked down at the IV in my hand.
Less than an hour ago, he’d blocked my number while I was sick in the next room.
Now he was sitting beside Chloe, rubbing her back because she’d eaten too much of the dinner he made her.
That was almost funny.
Almost.
I turned around and went back to my bay.
For the first time, I wasn’t wondering what I could do to make Ethan love me better.
I was wondering why I’d wasted three years trying.
第3章
Ethan had never cooked for me.
Not even once.
A year earlier, I’d gotten so sick in the middle of the night that I could barely get out of bed. I asked him to heat up some water for me.
He didn’t even sit up.
“The kitchen smell makes me nauseous.”
So I dragged myself downstairs and did it myself.
At the time, I’d told myself he couldn’t help it.
Watching him sit beside Chloe now, after making her dinner, I finally understood.
He could.
He just never wanted to for me.
Ethan looked at Chloe and smiled.
“You know what I still think about?”
She blinked. “What?”
“That soup you made me when we were kids.”
Her expression shifted for a second.
Ethan didn’t notice.
“I’ve eaten at some ridiculous restaurants since then, and I still remember that soup.”
Chloe tugged on his sleeve.
“I’m literally in the ER and you’re asking me to cook?”
He laughed. “You’re fine.”
“Wow.”
“I’m serious. Make it for me again sometime.”
She leaned into him.
“Maybe.”
That was when Ethan looked up and saw me.
His smile disappeared.
“What are you doing here?”
I stared at him.
He stood.
“Did you follow me?”
For a second, I honestly thought he was joking.
“Are you serious?”
“Claire, come on.”
I gave him a tired smile.
“Yeah. I tracked you all the way to the ER with an IV in my hand.”
His eyes dropped.
Only then did he notice the line taped to the back of my hand.
His face changed.
“You’re sick?”
“Good catch.”
Before he could say anything, a nurse came over.
“Ms. Walker, you need to get back to your bay. And try not to bend that wrist.”
Ethan looked at the IV again.
I could see the guilt hit him.
It lasted maybe two seconds.
Then Chloe said, “Ethan, I’m cold.”
He turned around immediately.
“I’ve got you.”
He went back to the bed, pulled the blanket up around her, and sat beside her.
That was all I needed to see.
I turned and followed the nurse down the hall.
By morning, I’d already called a lawyer.
I didn’t cry about it. I didn’t change my mind.
I just wanted out.
Once I was discharged, I went home, showered, grabbed the documents my attorney had sent over, and headed straight to Walker Holdings.
The receptionist recognized me the second I walked in.
“Mrs. Walker.”
She looked uncomfortable.
That was never a good sign.
“Is Ethan here?”
She hesitated.
“He’s upstairs.”
“Where?”
“The private kitchen.”
I stopped.
Of course he was.
Ethan had built that kitchen for me before we got married.
It took up half the top floor—huge windows, marble counters, every appliance I’d ever mentioned wanting.
The first time he showed it to me, he’d wrapped his arms around my waist and said, “This place is yours. Nobody comes in unless you want them here.”
I’d believed him.
Apparently, I was an idiot.
“Do you want me to let him know you’re here?” the receptionist asked.
“No.”
I adjusted the folder under my arm.
“I’m not staying long.”
I took the elevator upstairs.
The closer I got to the kitchen, the more noise I heard.
Voices.
Music.
Someone laughing.
I frowned.
Then I opened the door.
And stopped.
The kitchen was packed with cameras, lights, and recording equipment.
Chloe was standing in the middle of it all.
Wearing my apron.
Using my stuff.
For a second, I couldn’t even process what I was looking at.
Then I saw the knife in her hand.
And everything else disappeared.
