Isabella had been married to Philip for seven years, and for every single one of those years, she had prepared the entire banquet almost completely on her own. While Philip took the credit for the steaks, she was the one making the slow-roasted corn chowder, the creamy garlic mashed potatoes, the honey-glazed heirloom carrots, and the zesty lime-infused coleslaw.
She began the preparation on Saturday evening and was already up at the crack of dawn on Sunday to chop herbs, marinate vegetables, and scrub pots before the first guest arrived. By the time Philip’s friends were shouting about how he had outdone himself again, Isabella had already put in more labor than all the men on the patio combined.
That specific Sunday, a new face appeared at the long outdoor table when a man named Dominic Vance sat quietly at the far end. Dominic was fifty years old, dressed in a simple linen shirt and a high-end watch, possessing a calm presence that seemed to make Philip want to brag even more than usual.