When Iris plans a quiet dinner to reconcile with her husband, she doesn’t expect it to literally end up in the trash. But what starts as a ruined meal reveals something much deeper…
I wanted to surprise my husband with dinner, so I came up with a new recipe: one-pot chicken with orzo.
It wasn’t particularly refined, but it was warm, comforting, and a little indulgent. It had been a while since I’d last cooked for Neil—he’d made sure of that in his quiet, wry way—but I tried again.
A smiling woman stands in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
I tried to show my love in the way I knew how.
It was Friday. That morning, I ordered groceries online and picked them up at the store just before lunch. It felt like the first truly peaceful morning of the week. No phone calls, no meetings—just walking around and getting things done.
Everything I bought seemed intentional. The herbs were wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. The chicken was whole, raw, clean, and wrapped in clear plastic. I added fresh garlic, celery stalks, lemon, shallots, and orzo.
Fresh ingredients on the counter | Source: Midjourney
It was healthy. Good . Like something that could warm you more than a kitchen.
I took my time preparing everything, poured myself a glass of wine, and chopped and stirred. I thoroughly marinated the chicken, stuffed it with lemon and herbs, and rubbed the skin with olive oil as directed in the recipe.
Neil walked in while I was zesting a lemon. He seemed distracted, with a briefcase in one hand and keys in the other.
Marinated Chicken in a Bowl | Source: Midjourney
“Oh,” I said, smiling and wiping my hands. “I’m cooking something delicious for dinner. One-pot chicken with orzo. It’ll be delicious! I even bought candles,” I said with a laugh, a little embarrassed that I sounded so excited.
“That sounds complicated,” he said, without looking up from his phone.
“It’s not,” I replied. “Actually, it’s quite simple, but…”
