My Husband's Mistress Wore Red to Grandma's Funeral

On the second morning of our marriage, Solomon Sanchez got up at five and cooked a whole table of breakfast, made with love.

I followed the smell to the kitchen.

I'd just picked up a soup dumpling, hadn't even gotten it to my mouth, when he slapped it out of my hand and onto the floor.

"That's for Blanchie. She's pregnant and picky, and she asked for my soup dumplings by name."

"Stop fighting her for food. Be reasonable and just order takeout for yourself, okay?"

Something sank in my chest, and I thought back to a post I'd scrolled past a while ago.