My Husband Made a Menu and Demands That I Cook Him Meals from It Every Day

Sarah thought her marriage was rock solid until the night she discovered a gourmet menu on the fridge, demanding she cook extravagant meals after exhausting days at work. The ensuing confrontation revealed deep cracks in their relationship, sparking a heated argument that left them both reeling.

I had always prided myself on my work ethic. As a successful project manager at a bustling tech firm, I often worked late hours and brought home projects on weekends. Despite my demanding job, I still managed to keep the household running smoothly. I juggled chores, groceries, and occasional dinners with friends.

Happy working couple | Source: Pexels

Happy working couple | Source: Pexels

Tom, my husband, had a stable job as an accountant. He worked regular hours, rarely had to stay late, and had weekends off. Yet, he often complained about being tired and stressed. I didn’t mind taking on a bit more; I loved Tom and was committed to our marriage.

But that day, it went too far. I returned home after another grueling day at the office, my shoulders aching from the weight of my responsibilities.

As I dropped my bag by the door, I noticed something unusual on the fridge. A neatly typed menu was stuck to it with a magnet, and a handwritten note in Tom’s familiar scrawl read, “Cook it today.”

Man writing a note on a fridge | Source: Pexels

Man writing a note on a fridge | Source: Pexels

I glanced at the menu and felt my blood pressure rise. It listed gourmet meals, each more complex than the last: Beef Wellington, Coq au Vin, Lobster Thermidor. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I worked longer hours than Tom, yet he was expecting me to come home and whip up these elaborate dishes.

My initial anger simmered down to a cold determination. I picked up my phone and texted Tom.

Woman texts on her phone | Source: Pexels

Woman texts on her phone | Source: Pexels

“What’s with this menu on the fridge? Are you serious about me cooking all this?”

Tom’s reply came quickly. “Yeah, I thought it would be nice to have some structure and variety in our meals. You’re such a good cook, and I think you can handle it. Let me know how it goes!”

I couldn’t believe his nonchalant response. If Tom wanted gourmet meals, he would get them, but not the way he expected.

Man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

Man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. This was too much. I decided to confront him when he got home.

An hour later, Tom walked in, whistling a tune. “Hey, Sarah,” he called out cheerfully.

“Hey,” I replied, my voice icy. “We need to talk.”

He looked at me, puzzled. “About what?”

Woman scolds a man | Source: Pexels

Woman scolds a man | Source: Pexels

I pointed to the fridge. “About this menu.”

Tom glanced at it and then back at me, still looking confused. “What about it?”

“You expect me to cook all these meals after working all day?” I asked, my voice rising. “I barely have time to breathe, Tom.”

He shrugged. “I just thought it would be nice to have some variety. Your cooking is always on top, and I thought you’d enjoy it.”

Man with a laptop in his apartment | Source: Pexels

Man with a laptop in his apartment | Source: Pexels

“Enjoy it?” I echoed, incredulous. “I barely have time to eat, let alone cook gourmet meals.”

Tom frowned. “I didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”

“Well, it is,” I snapped. “I’m exhausted, Tom. I need help, not more work.”

He looked taken aback. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t realize.”

I shook my head. “No, you didn’t. And that’s the problem.”

Couple argues during breakfast | Source: Pexels

Couple argues during breakfast | Source: Pexels

Tom’s frown deepened. “So now it’s my fault you’re overworked? I just wanted to eat better, Sarah. Is that so wrong?”

I felt my frustration boiling over. “Wanting to eat better isn’t wrong, but expecting me to do everything is! I’m not a machine, Tom.”

“I never said you were,” he replied, his voice rising. “But you’re acting like I do nothing around here. I work too, you know.”

Couple arguing | Source: Pexels

Couple arguing | Source: Pexels

“Yeah, you work regular hours and come home to relax. I work late, bring projects home, and still manage the house. How is that fair?”

Tom threw his hands up in exasperation. “So what do you want me to do, Sarah? Quit my job? Stay home and cook all day?”

Angry shouting man | Source: Pexels

Angry shouting man | Source: Pexels

I glared at him. “I want you to recognize how much I do and pitch in more. It’s not about quitting your job; it’s about sharing responsibilities.”

“Responsibilities?” Tom scoffed. “I handle the bills, the yard work, the car maintenance. You think that’s nothing?”

Couple arguing in the corridor | Source: Pexels

Couple arguing in the corridor | Source: Pexels

“I’m not saying it’s nothing,” I replied, my voice shaking with anger. “But it’s not everything. You don’t see the daily grind I go through. Cooking gourmet meals is just another unrealistic expectation.”

Tom’s face reddened. “Fine, maybe I don’t see everything. But you don’t appreciate what I do either. You make it sound like I’m useless.”

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m asking for partnership, Tom. Not for you to feel useless. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

Woman clenches her head | Source: Pexels

Woman clenches her head | Source: Pexels

“Maybe because you’re always on edge,” he shot back. “It’s like nothing I do is good enough for you.”

“Because you’re not listening!” I shouted. “I’m drowning here, and all you see is your perfect little menu. It’s not about the food; it’s about feeling supported.”

Tom stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I’m done with this conversation. I need some air.”

Frustrated woman | Source: Pexels

Frustrated woman | Source: Pexels

We stood there for a moment, but I knew this conversation wasn’t over. Tom had a lot to learn about what it took to keep our lives running smoothly. And I had to figure out how to make him understand without losing my mind in the process.

This was just the beginning.

The next few days, I went about my usual routine, but with a new plan in mind. I made a few calls and arranged everything perfectly. When Friday came, Tom walked through the door to the delicious aroma of a perfectly cooked Beef Wellington.

Beef Wellington | Source: Pexels

Beef Wellington | Source: Pexels

“Wow, this looks amazing!” Tom exclaimed as he sat down at the table.

I smiled sweetly, hiding my true intentions. “I’m glad you like it. I thought I’d start with your favorite.”

Tom took a bite and sighed contentedly. “This is fantastic. You know, if I didn’t make you do it, you’d never discover this talent. But, if I’m being honest, the beef could be a little more tender.”

Content man eating | Source: Pexels

Content man eating | Source: Pexels

At that moment, a man in a chef’s uniform emerged from the kitchen. “Is there something wrong with the beef, sir?” he asked, his tone polite but firm.

Tom’s fork froze halfway to his mouth. “Who are you?” he stammered.

I leaned back, enjoying the scene. “This is Chef Martin. I hired him to cook this dinner. And I paid him with the money you were saving for your new car.”

The chef | Source: Pexels

The chef | Source: Pexels

Tom’s face turned several shades of red as he struggled to find words. “You…you did what?”

“I work long hours, manage the household, and now you expect me to cook gourmet meals every day? I thought you could use a lesson in what it takes to put together a meal like this. Chef Martin is an expert, and even he can’t make the beef perfect every time. Maybe now you’ll appreciate what I do a bit more.”

Chef presents his work | Source: Pexels

Chef presents his work | Source: Pexels

Chef Martin smiled and nodded. “It’s not easy, sir. Cooking these dishes takes a lot of skill and time.”

Tom sat back, his arrogance deflated. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t realize how unfair I was being. I thought it would be nice to have these meals, but I didn’t consider how much work it would be for you.”

My expression softened slightly. “I’m glad you understand. Next time, let’s make a meal plan together that we both can manage.”

Happy couple on a rooftop | Source: Pexels

Happy couple on a rooftop | Source: Pexels

They finished their meal with a newfound respect for each other. From that day forward, Tom never made another demanding menu, and they both took turns cooking, creating simple but delicious meals together.

My Stepmom Kicked Me Out After I Stopped Cooking for Her and Her Kids—but Karma Struck Back Instantly

In the wake of personal loss, sixteen-year-old Julia discovers the trials of managing a household’s culinary needs under her stepmom’s critical eye. When her passion for cooking clashes with relentless family criticism, will Julia find a recipe for reconciliation or will the kitchen conflicts reach a boiling point?

A father hugging his daughter | Source: Pexels

A father hugging his daughter | Source: Pexels

Ever since my dad passed away, life has been a rollercoaster. Now, I’m living with my stepmom, Cathy, and her two kids, my stepsiblings, Martha and Frank. It’s been an adjustment, not just emotionally but in all the everyday things too.

My name is Julia, I’m 16, and like any other teen, I’m juggling high school and household chores. But there’s one chore that’s not just a task for me—it’s my passion: cooking.

A female student sitting in the classroom | Source: Pexels

A female student sitting in the classroom | Source: Pexels

I started taking cooking seriously about three years ago, finding solace and joy in creating meals just for me. It was my own little world where I could experiment and escape.

It wasn’t long before Cathy noticed my knack for cooking and decided that I could extend this ‘little hobby’ to cooking for the entire family. At first, I was on board. I thought, why not share this love with everyone?

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My Neighbors Had a House Fire, So We Took Them in — What They Discovered in Our Home Shocked Me

When a fire forced their neighbors to seek refuge in their home, Violet stumbled upon a shocking secret hidden in the basement. The unexpected discovery not only tested her trust in her husband Jim but also challenged the very fabric of their seemingly perfect life.

Life with Jim was usually peaceful. We had settled into a comforting routine over the years, a rhythm that was uniquely ours. Our little house on Maple Street had always been a haven for us.

A couple sitting on a couch | Source: Pexels

A couple sitting on a couch | Source: Pexels

Jim, with his gentle nature and constant optimism, balanced out my more cautious and pragmatic tendencies. We shared everything, from morning coffee rituals to late-night conversations about our dreams and fears. It wasn’t perfect, but it was ours.

One late night, an acrid smell woke us both. “Do you smell that?” I asked, sitting up in bed.

Jim sniffed the air and frowned. “Yeah, something’s burning.”

We rushed to the window and saw flames licking the night sky from James and Eloise’s house next door. My heart raced. “Oh my God, Jim! It’s their house!”

A couple on their balcony watching a house on fire in their neighborhood | Source: Midjourney

A couple on their balcony watching a house on fire in their neighborhood | Source: Midjourney

We bolted outside and saw James and Eloise standing on the lawn in their pajamas, looking dazed and helpless. I grabbed a blanket from our porch and wrapped it around Eloise, who was sobbing uncontrollably.

“They said it was faulty wiring. There’s nothing left,” she managed to choke out between sobs.

I hugged her tightly. “But you’re alive. That’s the most important thing. Come on, you can stay with us for a while.”

A very shaken and teary-eyed woman | Source: Midjourney

A very shaken and teary-eyed woman | Source: Midjourney

Jim and I led them to our basement, which we had recently converted into a cozy guest area, complete with a comfortable sofa and a TV. It wasn’t much, but it was a safe place to land after such a traumatic event.

For the first few days, everything was calm. James and Eloise seemed to be adjusting, grateful for the temporary refuge. But then, one morning, James approached me in the kitchen, his voice barely above a whisper.

A man talking to a woman in the kitchen | Source: Pexels

A man talking to a woman in the kitchen | Source: Pexels

“Violet, don’t say anything to Jim. But listen carefully,” he said, glancing around nervously. “He asked us not to open the door under the stairs because there was a huge mess. But we heard some sounds from there. Could you open it, please?”

My heart sank. What could be behind that door? I rushed downstairs, fumbling with the keys, my mind racing with possibilities. When I finally opened the door, the strong odor hit me like a punch. Inside, to my absolute horror, were five rabbits.

A couple of rabbits sitting together | Source: Unsplash

A couple of rabbits sitting together | Source: Unsplash

I felt a wave of dizziness and had to steady myself against the doorframe. “Jim!!!” I screamed, my voice tinged with panic.

Jim was at my side in an instant. “What’s wrong, Violet?”

I pointed to the rabbits, my breath coming in shallow gasps. “What is this? We agreed you wouldn’t keep rabbits in the house!”

Jim looked sheepish as he descended the stairs. “Violet, I… I can explain.”

“Explain?” I could feel my temper rising. “Two months ago, you promised to give them away because of my allergies and fear. Why are there five rabbits now?”

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

Jim sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I couldn’t give them away. I found a place for them in the basement. I’ve been coming down here every day to feed them, clean up, and play with them. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“A problem? I’m allergic, Jim! What if I had a reaction?” I was struggling to keep my voice steady, the betrayal stinging more than the potential health risk.

“I know, I know. I thought I had it under control. I’m sorry, Violet. I just didn’t want to give them up.”

A remorseful man | Source: Midjourney

A remorseful man | Source: Midjourney

James and Eloise stood at the top of the stairs, looking awkward and concerned. “We had no idea. We only heard noises and got worried,” James said apologetically.

Eloise stepped forward, trying to diffuse the tension. “Maybe we can help find a solution.”

I looked at Jim, feeling a wave of anger and sorrow. How had we gotten to this point? The rabbits were a symptom of a bigger issue, one that I wasn’t sure how to fix. But at that moment, all I could do was focus on the immediate problem.

A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney

The tension in the air was thick as we stood there in the basement, surrounded by those unexpected, unwanted rabbits. I was still catching my breath when I heard a knock at the door. It was Jules, our neighbor who had recently moved into the temporary house down the street. She must have heard the commotion.

“Hey, is everything alright here?” Jules asked, stepping inside cautiously. Behind her was her husband, Ethan, who looked equally concerned.

“We’ve got a bit of a situation,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “Jim, do you want to explain?”

A woman talking to another woman | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to another woman | Source: Midjourney

Jim sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been keeping these rabbits down here. Violet has severe allergies and a phobia of rabbits, so it’s been a secret. But now…”

Jules’ eyes lit up with understanding. “Rabbits, huh? I love rabbits! We have a big yard and plenty of space. Why don’t we take them off your hands? Jim, you can come over anytime to visit and play with them.”

A smiling woman holding rabbits | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman holding rabbits | Source: Pexels

My heart lifted a little at Jules’ offer. Jim looked relieved, his shoulders dropping as if a weight had been lifted. “Really? That would be amazing! Thank you so much, Jules. Ethan, you both are lifesavers!”

“No problem at all,” Ethan replied with a smile. “We’ll come back later today to pick them up.”

After Jules and Ethan left, I turned to Jim. “I appreciate their offer, but Jim, we need to talk about this.”

A woman looking at her husband's reflection in the bathroom mirror | Source: Pexels

A woman looking at her husband’s reflection in the bathroom mirror | Source: Pexels

Jim nodded, his face serious. “I know, Violet. I should have told you. I just couldn’t bear to part with them. They mean a lot to me.”

“I get that,” I said softly. “But you have to understand how scared I was when I found them. I thought we agreed on this for my health.”

Jim reached out and took my hand. “I’m sorry, Violet. I really am. I promise I’ll do better.”

A close-up shot of a couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of a couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

That afternoon, Jules and Ethan returned with a large pet carrier. They gently gathered the rabbits, speaking softly to calm them down. I watched from a distance, my anxiety easing as the rabbits were carefully placed in the carrier.

“We’ll take good care of them,” Jules assured me with a smile. “And Jim, you’re welcome anytime.”

“Thanks again, Jules,” Jim said, giving them a grateful nod.

With the rabbits gone, the house felt lighter. That evening, as we settled on the couch, I looked at Jim and felt a surge of relief and lingering hurt.

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

“Jim, this can’t happen again. We have to be honest with each other.”

He squeezed my hand. “I know. And I’m sorry, Violet. I never wanted to upset you.”

“I know,” I replied. “Let’s just make sure we talk about things from now on.”

A week later, Eloise and James received good news. Their insurance company had expedited their claim, and the reconstruction of their house was set to begin soon. They were relieved, and so were we.

A woman sitting near a box of clothes laughing while looking at her husband | Source: Pexels

A woman sitting near a box of clothes laughing while looking at her husband | Source: Pexels

“You guys have been incredible,” James said one morning as he and Eloise were packing up their things in the basement. “We can’t thank you enough for everything.”

Eloise nodded, her eyes misty. “We’ll never forget your kindness. And we’re just down the street if you ever need anything.”

“You’ve been great guests,” I said, hugging her. “We’re glad we could help. And please, stay in touch.”

Two women sharing a hug | Source: Midjourney

Two women sharing a hug | Source: Midjourney

Once Eloise and James moved out, the house felt a bit emptier but also calmer. The whole rabbit situation had been a wake-up call for both Jim and me. We needed to prioritize communication and transparency in our relationship.

Days passed, and true to his word, Jim visited Jules and Ethan’s house regularly to see the rabbits. He’d come back with stories about their antics, his eyes shining with happiness. I was glad he still had that connection, and I felt more at ease knowing the rabbits were well cared for without putting my health at risk.

A man playing with rabbits | Source: Midjourney

A man playing with rabbits | Source: Midjourney

One evening, Jim returned from Jules and Ethan’s with a thoughtful expression. “You know,” he said, sitting next to me, “they suggested we could get a different pet. One that wouldn’t trigger your allergies.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What did they have in mind?”

“Maybe a fish tank? Or a bird? Something we can both enjoy.”

I smiled at the idea. “I think that sounds lovely.”

A loving couple talking and enjoying their drinks at home | Source: Freepik

A loving couple talking and enjoying their drinks at home | Source: Freepik

A few days later, we visited a pet store together. Jim’s excitement was infectious as we picked out a beautiful fish tank and a few colorful fish. Setting it up in our living room became a fun project for us, and I found myself enjoying the peaceful sight of the fish swimming gracefully.

“See, this is nice,” Jim said, wrapping an arm around me as we watched the fish. “Something we can both appreciate.”

“It really is,” I agreed, leaning into him. “I’m glad we found a solution.”

A fish tank in a house | Source: Midjourney

A fish tank in a house | Source: Midjourney

In the end, this whole experience taught us a lot about each other. Jim’s love for the rabbits was understandable, but keeping secrets wasn’t the way to handle it. And for me, learning to compromise and find solutions that worked for both of us was key.

Looking back, I realized how important it was to communicate and respect each other’s needs. Our home felt more harmonious now, with a new understanding between us. And while I was relieved to have my home back without the fear of an allergic reaction, I was even more grateful for the lesson we learned together.

A happy woman with her husband | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman with her husband | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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