After saying that, she turned and went to the nursery to see my sister.
I wiped the corner of my eye and left.
Back at Caleb’s house, the father and sons didn’t know I’d returned.
Seeing me empty-handed, Leo complained he was hungry.
“Mom, I want fried chicken wings, meatball pasta. Noah wants roasted ribs.”
“And Dad, his stomach is sensitive, he wants the vegetable soup you make.”
Not a single dish they could eat immediately.
The Caleb men all had a family history of sensitive stomachs.
They were all picky eaters.
Some lactose intolerant.
Some allergic to nuts.
Some couldn’t handle spicy seasonings.
If the food was even slightly greasy, indigestion followed.
We used to have a private chef, but after marriage…
My mother-in-law, Helen said since I stayed home all day, I should learn to
care for the family.
So, I started learning from scratch.
Now, I could make palatable meals meeting their requirements.
I became a wife who could properly serve the Caleb family.
But also a complete housekeeper.
Now, coming to my senses, I realized:
What problem couldn’t be solved with money?
Not to mention Caleb’s company’s substantial annual revenue, just the trust
fund my mother set up for me provided steady monthly income.
No need to make life so hard for myself.
I tossed my purse onto the console and looked at them.
“Tired today. Not cooking. Order takeout.”
“Tomorrow, I’ll hire a chef through an agency.”
“From now on, tell the chef what you want to eat.”
I headed upstairs. Caleb stopped me.
“Annabel, what do you mean? We have a guest today. How can you make her
eat takeout?”
“Guest?” I slowly turned, looking at Sophia.
“Just your company assistant.”
“What, does the boss’s wife need to personally cook and serve her?”
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