Evan didn't returned until midnight.
Zoe's sleep was restless, her eyelashes flickering at the sound of opening the door. Half-opening her eyes, she saw him switch on the light, oblivious to her slumber.
The glare forced Zoe's eyes shut again. Evan approached, the scent of alcohol preceding him. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment before staggering to find his pajamas and into the bathroom.
Only when the sound of water filled the air did Zoe adapt to the light, opening her eyes fully and sitting up, glancing towards the bathroom door.
His phone on the bedside table beeped, indicating a message. Thirsty, Zoe got up to fetch water from the living room.
Upon returning, Evan's phone pinged again, lighting up the screen. She resisted the urge to look but couldn't help a fleeting glance.
Zoe smirked. The sender, "Jocelyn," messaged, "Honey, aren't you asleep yet?"
"Honey?" The word stung her eyes. She glanced at the bathroom, her heart numb, too weary for pain.
She slipped back into bed, eyes closed, attempting to sleep, but it eluded her.
Evan, fresh from his shower, caused her body to twitch involuntarily upon his approach. The alcohol was masked by the familiar scent of the shower gel she always used, a brand she stuck with because he once complimented its fragrance.
With his back to her, he seemed engrossed in replying to messages. Predictably, another notification sounded.
Zoe lay with her eyes shut, listening to his faint typing and the beeping of incoming messages.
Rolling over to face away from him, she silently covered her ears.
Eventually, he stopped, turned off the light, and fell asleep quickly, perhaps due to the alcohol.
Tears glistened in Zoe's eyes as she closed them in despair.
The next morning, Evan roused her early. Sleep-deprived, her dark circles were prominent.
Frowning, Evan headed to the bathroom to freshen up. Zoe took a while to gather herself, patting her cheeks before changing.
He tasked her with grocery shopping and left. After preparing, she walked to the market for both meat and vegetables.
Once a cooking novice, she honed her culinary skills after quitting her job, experimenting during her idle days at home.
Initially, her creations were disastrous, but Evan had swallowed them without complaint, claiming food shouldn't be wasted, as if oblivious to taste. Perhaps he had loved her deeply then.
For him, she perfected her cooking, yet now, he wouldn't even spare it a glance.
Her love, once treasured and safeguarded, had expired.
Emotionlessly, she prepped the vegetables and reminisced about the past.
While gutting a fish, she accidentally sliced her fingers deeply, blood spurting from two digits.
Pain seared through her, yet her face remained stoic as she slowly sought bandages in the bedroom.
Bandaged, she returned to finish preparing the fish.
Realizing there was another fish in the bag, she paused, momentarily puzzled.
Had she bought two?
Ah, yes, two.
Evan loved fish, so she usually prepared two, one steamed and one braised.
By eleven, Zoe had prepared a full table of dishes, a delectable spread inviting to the eye. Giving it a brief glance, she returned to her room to freshen up, letting down her hair from its cooking bun into a low ponytail and changing her clothes.
