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 Wife Excluded Me from Her Birthday Party – I Was Shocked to Find Out Why

I thought my wife, Jenna, and I shared everything, including our deepest secrets. But when she excluded me from her birthday party, I realized I’d been left out of more than just one celebration. What hurt the most was discovering why.

It wasn’t just the party that stung. It was what it revealed about my wife and our marriage.

I’d spent a year saving for her dream gift, only to find out that I wasn’t enough for her. Looking back, the signs had always been there. I guess I just never wanted to see them.

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

Jenna and I were introduced by our families eight years ago. They thought we’d be a great match, and they were right. At least in the beginning.

She was warm, outgoing, and had this infectious energy that made everyone gravitate toward her. I was quieter and more practical, but I found her enthusiasm refreshing. We went on a few dates, and soon enough, I was hooked.

Of course, she wasn’t perfect. No one is.

I noticed early on that she had a bit of a materialistic streak.

A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney

She loved fancy dinners, designer handbags, and the kind of vacations that made Instagram feeds look like travel brochures.

At the time, I chalked it up to her appreciating the finer things in life. Besides, I wasn’t exactly living extravagantly, but I wasn’t struggling either.

I thought we could balance each other out.

We got married five years ago, and for a while, everything seemed great. I loved how Jenna lit up a room and could talk to anyone and make them feel like the most important person in the world.

A close-up shot of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a woman | Source: Midjourney

I worked a steady job as a financial consultant, and while I wasn’t raking in millions, I took pride in providing a stable life for us.

But there were moments, small, nagging moments, that hinted things weren’t as perfect as they seemed.

I remember one time I gave her a custom photo album for our anniversary, filled with pictures of our favorite memories. She smiled and thanked me, but later, I overheard her on the phone with a friend, saying, “Yeah, it’s sweet, but I was kind of hoping for a spa weekend or something.”

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

It hurt, but I convinced myself it didn’t mean anything. Jenna had always been expressive, and I figured she was just venting.

Still, the little incidents piled up.

She’d casually mention how her friend’s husband surprised her with diamond earrings “just because” or how another friend’s partner whisked her away for a luxury retreat.

“Can you believe how lucky they are?” she’d say, with a wistful look I tried not to take personally.

But deep down, I started to feel like I was falling short.

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t have the kind of job that allowed for extravagant gifts or surprise getaways, but I made up for it with thoughtfulness. At least, I thought I did.

I’d spend hours planning little surprises for her, like cooking her favorite meals after a long day or leaving sweet notes in her work bag.

I hoped those gestures meant more than a price tag.

Then came the conversations that left me questioning myself.

A man standing in the dark | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in the dark | Source: Midjourney

Once, when her friends came over, I overheard them talking.

“So, what did Lucas spoil you with this time?” one of her friends asked.

I heard Jenna laugh sheepishly.

“Oh, you know Lucas,” she began. “He’s more about sentiment than splurging.”

Her tone wasn’t outright dismissive, but it wasn’t exactly proud either.

A woman sitting in the dark | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in the dark | Source: Midjourney

Looking back, I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve realized that Jenna’s world was one where appearances mattered. A world where being “just enough” was never going to cut it.

But I loved her, and I believed that love was enough to bridge the gap between our differences.

I was wrong.

So wrong.

A man standing in his house | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in his house | Source: Midjourney

A few weeks ago, Jenna surprised me with an announcement that caught me off guard.

“I’m not celebrating my birthday this year,” she said over dinner. “I’m getting older, and honestly, what’s there to celebrate?”

I paused mid-bite and stared at her. Jenna loved birthdays. She’d always meticulously plan a theme, coordinate outfits, and ensure the guest list was perfect. The idea of her skipping the occasion altogether felt off.

“Are you sure?” I asked, keeping my tone light. “You’ve always loved celebrating.”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

She shrugged. “I just don’t feel like it this year. Maybe next time.”

Her response didn’t sit well with me, but I didn’t push. Everyone has their moments, and I figured turning 35 left her feeling reflective or even self-conscious.

Still, I wanted to do something special for her.

Jenna loved jewelry but rarely bought any for herself, always saying it was too indulgent. So, for the past year, I’d been quietly saving up for a pair of diamond earrings I knew she’d adore.

A pair of earrings | Source: Pexels

A pair of earrings | Source: Pexels

Honestly, saving up hadn’t been easy. I’d skipped lunches out, passed on new clothes, and even took on extra work during the holidays.

The earrings I’d bought were beautiful and I couldn’t wait to surprise her. I imagined giving them to her during a quiet dinner at home. I thought it would be perfect.

But everything changed a few days before her birthday.

I was at the grocery store picking up some last-minute essentials when I ran into Mark, one of Jenna’s coworkers.

Shopping carts at a supermarket | Source: Pexels

Shopping carts at a supermarket | Source: Pexels

We exchanged pleasantries and talked about the usual stuff until he casually mentioned something that made my heart drop.

“Okay, see ya at Jenna’s birthday party on Friday!” he said with a grin.

“Party?” I asked. I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Yeah, her birthday party. You know about it, right?”

“Oh, yeah, the party!” I chuckled. “Same place as last time, right? I keep mixing things up.”

“No, it’s at that new restaurant,” Mark said. “Le Bijou, downtown. Friday at 7. All friends and family are coming!”

A man in a supermarket | Source: Pexels

A man in a supermarket | Source: Pexels

I forced a laugh, playing it off. “Oh, right, of course. Just slipped my mind for a second. Been swamped with work lately.”

Mark nodded. “Well, it should be fun. Jenna always throws a great party.”

I managed a smile and a quick goodbye before turning the cart down the next aisle.

Le Bijou was a new upscale restaurant downtown. It required booking weeks in advance and a price tag to match.

What bothered me the most was that my wife hadn’t mentioned a word about that party.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

For the next two days, I tried to rationalize what Mark had said. Maybe he was mistaken. Maybe it was a surprise party, and Jenna didn’t want me to find out.

But deep down, I knew the truth. She’d excluded me on purpose.

Why wouldn’t she want me there? I thought. Was she embarrassed? Angry? Or had I done something to make her feel like I didn’t belong by her side?

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

The questions ate away at me, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask Jenna outright.

Instead, I decided to find out. I told myself I wasn’t going to cause a scene and that I just needed answers. I decided to go to the party to see why she didn’t want me there.

On the day of her birthday, she seemed quite calm.

“I’m just going out with some friends for dinner tonight,” she said over breakfast, sipping her coffee. “Nothing fancy, just a small gathering.”

A woman smiling at the breakfast table | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling at the breakfast table | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, really? I thought we’d have dinner at home together,” I said. “I was planning to bake your favorite cookies.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Lucas,” she smiled. “It’s just that Alex suggested we should go out for dinner, and I didn’t want to say no. We’ll have dinner together tomorrow, okay? I promise.”

“Alright,” I said, trying to hide the disappointment.

She didn’t mention Le Bijou or anything remotely like the extravagant affair Mark had described. A quiet dinner with friends was nothing to raise suspicion over. At least not until I arrived at the restaurant.

A table in a restaurant | Source: Pexels

A table in a restaurant | Source: Pexels

When I walked into Le Bijou, it was as if I’d stepped into a different world. The room glittered with wealth. Sparkling gowns, tailored suits, and the unmistakable hum of privilege.

In the center of it all was Jenna. Her smile was as dazzling as the chandelier above her, but it faded the moment she saw me.

I could see panic written all over her face as she excused herself and walked toward me.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a low, hurried whisper.

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

“I came to celebrate your birthday,” I replied. “But it looks like you’re having a ball with your friends. You said you didn’t want to celebrate your birthday this year, but…”

Her face flushed as she looked around. “Lucas, it’s not like that. This is just a casual dinner. I—”

“Mark called it a birthday party when I met him a few days ago,” I said. “This doesn’t look like a casual dinner.”

Her shoulders sagged slightly, and she glanced back at the table where her friends were watching us with open curiosity.

A woman looking away while talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking away while talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

“Look,” she said, lowering her voice even further. “I excluded you from the party because… well, it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“It’s just that all my friends’ husbands always get them these extravagant gifts, and you… well, you don’t. I didn’t want them to compare. I didn’t want them to know that I never get any expensive gifts.”

I stared at her with wide eyes.

“So, you’re embarrassed of me?” I asked. “You’re embarrassed your husband doesn’t earn enough to spoil you with presents?”

Her silence was answer enough.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled the small box from my pocket and handed it to her.

“Open it,” I said.

A woman holding a gift box | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a gift box | Source: Pexels

Her eyes widened slightly as she unwrapped it, revealing the diamond earrings inside. For a moment, I saw the Jenna I fell in love with. The one who lit up over little surprises and thoughtful gestures.

“Oh my God, Lucas,” she gasped, holding the earrings up for her friends to admire. “These are beautiful!”

She called her friends over, basking in their admiration as if the entire evening had suddenly transformed into a celebration of us.

“Lucas, you have to stay,” she said, grabbing my hand. “Come on, have a drink, let me get you some food.”

A woman looking back | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking back | Source: Midjourney

But I couldn’t. Something inside me had cracked, and no amount of praise or attention from her friends could fix it.

“I can’t stay,” I said. “The second part of your gift is waiting for you at home.”

Her eyes lit up with excitement. “What is it? Tell me!”

“You’ll see,” I said, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before walking away. I didn’t look back.

When Jenna returned home later that night, she found the house dark and eerily quiet.

A woman in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

The only light came from the kitchen, where a single envelope sat on the table. I’d left a letter for her.

Dear Jenna,

I spent a year saving for those earrings because I wanted you to feel loved, cherished, and appreciated. You always said you loved jewelry but never treated yourself, so I wanted to give you something special. Something to show you how much you mean to me.

A woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

A woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

But tonight, I realized that no matter how much I give, it will never be enough. Hearing you say you were embarrassed of me, of us, broke something inside me. I’ve always believed love was about more than material things, but you’ve made it clear that appearances and comparisons matter more.

So, here’s the second part of your gift: FREEDOM. For both of us.

A close-up shot of a handwritten note | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of a handwritten note | Source: Pexels

I’m filing for divorce. I deserve someone who values me for who I am, not for what I can buy. And you deserve someone who can give you the lifestyle you clearly want.

Please don’t contact me. This is goodbye.

—Lucas

Over the next few days, Jenna called me repeatedly, leaving tearful messages begging for forgiveness. She said she’d made a mistake, that she didn’t mean what she said, and that she wanted to fix things.

But I was done. I sent her one final text.

A man using his phone | Source: Pexels

A man using his phone | Source: Pexels

Don’t contact me again. It’s over.

Then I blocked her number and moved forward with the divorce.

Now, months later, I feel lighter, as if a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying has been lifted. Losing Jenna was painful, but knowing I’ll never have to endure her constant comparisons or unspoken disappointment again?

That’s a relief I can’t put into words.

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: I never imagined that hiding behind our bedroom curtain to surprise my husband on his birthday would lead to me filming him somewhere unexpected just hours later. The romantic scavenger hunt I’d planned turned into evidence that we needed a divorce.

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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