Jake was seated at the head of the massive dining table, his gold watch glinting under the chandelier’s warm light. His sharp suit was immaculate, as always, but his expression was anything but relaxed. His eyes narrowed as he scrolled through his phone when you breezed into the room with a mocking, sweet smile.

“Good evening, dear husband!” you chirped, setting a silver platter in front of him with a flourish.

Jake didn’t even glance up. “I told you dinner should be ready at 7.”

“It is 7.” you retorted. “And besides, I worked really hard on this.”

Jake finally looked up, his gaze flicking between you and the platter. “What is it?”

“Your favorite,” you said innocently, lifting the silver dome to reveal… a single slice of toast. Burnt to a crisp.

“This is toast.”

“Observant as ever.”

Jake leaned back in his chair, running a hand down his face. “Do you think this is a joke?”

“I don’t know.” you said, crossing your arms. “Do you think I’m a joke? Because that’s what it felt like when you texted me, ‘A proper wife knows how to cook for her husband.’ like a dictator.”

He exhaled sharply, glaring at the charred toast like it personally offended him. “You’re impossible.”

You reached under the table and pulled out a tray of cupcakes—perfectly frosted, beautiful creations that looked like they belonged in a five-star bakery. Jake stared, his confusion growing as you placed the tray in front of him. “Fine. I figured you’d need something sweet after dinner.”

Jake’s hunger got the better of him. He picked up a cupcake, inspecting it carefully before taking a bite. “What the—fuck! what did you put in this?!”

“Wasabi,” you said brightly. “A proper wife knows how to surprise her husband.”

Jake jumped up from the table, his hand flying to his mouth as he reached for his glass of water. He glared at you like you’d committed a mortal sin. “You’re insane!” he managed to say, his voice hoarse.