From then on, I took over. Every dish, every detail, everything he liked and avoided. I made sure he never had to deal with that again.
“Miss Mika?” the housekeeper called again.
I closed my eyes for a second. “I’ll handle it.”
This was the last time.
After the divorce… someone else would do it.
Not me anymore.
…
I prepared everything the same way I always did. Careful. Quiet. Like it still mattered. But this time, I made the housekeeper follow me the whole day, step by step, making her remember everything.
“The cake should be a vanilla berry one. He doesn’t like anything too heavy and sweet, it makes him sick after a few bites.”
“And listen, decorations should be white lilies, not red. He hates anything too loud, says it looks cheap.”
“Don’t put whiskey on the main table. He drinks it, yeah, but it gives him headaches if he hasn’t eaten properly.”
I paused, then added softly, “You need to remember all of this. Next time, you’ll be the one handling it. Don’t mess it up.”
The housekeeper looked confused. “Madam… won’t you still be the one arranging it next year?”
I didn’t answer.
Next time… I won’t even be here.
How could I?