Page 23 of Croc Food

“Well, whose wife do you want me to be like, then? If not Kyle’s?”

“No one’s! I want you to be yourself.”

“Hmm.”

“You do believe me, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Please cut that tradwife act with me. I literally loathe it. I don’t want you to have some dumbass servant mentality. It sucks.”

“Well, too bad,” I said, getting up. “The dinner is this week, and I want everything to be super traditional for Mr. and Mrs. Van Buren.”

“But you’ll stop after that, won’t you?” he asked anxiously, following me to the kitchen. “You’ll come back to me after that, won’t you?”

CHAPTER 10

Chad

Ididn’t realize how much I had lost until everything changed, bit by bit.

Our evenings had been pretty laid-back and chill, watching shows we both liked, cooking together, on the weekends we’d go flea market or antiquing for all the eclectic things my wife liked to decorate with, then to the driving range.

But now Bitsy had no interest in any of it. Or even talking to me, yapping away about everything and anything under the sun.

Oh, she was very sweet to me. Perfectly polite and gracious.

But she had pulled back from a true partnership to a degree that made me despair.

Now all she said was did I need an extra pillow? Could she please rub my feet? Might I bestow her the honor of clearing my dishes? How else could she serve me?

I had to literally foot-race this woman to the dishwasher after dinner every night.

I hated it.

“Please, sweetheart,” I begged her. “What can I do to prove that I didn’t mean what I said?”

And she only shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t see a problem. You wanted a tradwife, and you are getting one.”

“I freaking hate it!” I howled. “I loathe and despise it! I don’t want a servant! I want you. I want to be making fun of dumb reality shows together and laughing and shit-talking my parents and everything like we used to.”

But there was more to it than one fuck-up. I hadn’t been properly appreciating my wife the way I should have in several months.

I used to always bring her flowers home on Saturday mornings, take an hour off now and again for a quickie during lunch, and find a movie on the way home Friday night.

But I hadn’t done any of that shit while being so obsessed with this promotion.

And I wanted to change that, but Bitsy wouldn’t respond to any of my attempts.

I didn’t even want to do this stupid dinner anymore, but Mr. Van Buren appeared in my office doorway at exactly 5:30 pm.

“My wife is unable to come,” Mr. Van Buren said. “I’ve brought this gentleman here with me.”

My eyes hardened when I saw Zack step out, smirking.

“Why is he here?”