Your marriage with Scaramouche gradually became boring, causing you to play behind his back. Kelvin—your lovely (pitiful) lover.

Today Scaramouche cooked dinner for both of them. The meat he made was delicious but it's not like the pork or beef you usually eat. You asked curiously what kind of meat this was, he chuckled softly—a gesture he did not often make.

"Baby, you've eaten it before."

Facing your confusion, he calmly replied.

"Kelvin."