text: “Hey honey,” Chris said through the phone. “I was just calling to let you know I’m gonna be home late tonight, I’m really sorry. We are just absolutely slammed here, but I should be home by 6:30 at the latest. Do you mind making dinner tonight?” I opened the fridge, holding the phone between my shoulder and my ear. “Of course, baby,” I said, forcing sweetness into my voice. I opened the freezer and noticed a couple unopened packages of ground meat. “How does beef stew sound?” “Sounds great,” Chris said. “I love you.” I bit back a laugh. “Love you too,” I said. I took the phone in my hand and hung up. The great thing about beef stew was that you could just throw a bunch of ingredients in a pot and it would taste amazing. Sometimes, if you threw enough food in, you wouldn’t be able to taste some of the less flavourful ingredients. I began by turning on the oven and setting up a cookie sheet. I took my anger out on the potatoes, slicing them furiously and nearly cutting myself in the process. I placed them on the cookie sheet on top of some tin foil, then into the oven. Next, I took my favourite meat out of the freezer. I smiled as I unwrapped it. Chris was going to love this. I turned the stove on and started cooking the meat in the pan. I seasoned it heavily, with all of Chris’s favourite spices. Garlic, paprika, onion powder... On a separate pan, I started cooking all of Chris’s favourite vegetables. I threw in carrots, peppers and peas and cooked them so that they were warm and soft. The crock-pot was already on, I’d turned it on minutes before Chris had called me. I’d been expecting this. I threw the vegetables and meat into the crock-pot, then took the potatoes in the oven and tossed them in as well. I knew I would be making dinner tonight. I always made dinner on Thursdays. Not because Chris was always held up at work, but because he was always with his mistress. Claire was her name. Even thinking about that blond bimbo made my blood boil. I found out about a month ago, when I’d started getting suspicious about why Chris always seemed to be home late on Thursdays. One night, I drove to his work and waited for him to leave. I watched him get into his car and followed him to a rundown apartment a few blocks away from his work. A woman, Claire, had met him outside. She was young, younger than me at least. I’d later learned that she was 19, eight years younger than I was and ten years younger than Chris. She was perfect in every way. Short and slim, with perfect tanned skin, long luscious blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. With my curvier form, pale skin and dark hair, there was no contest. She was ten times more attractive than I would ever be. She’d stood on her tiptoes to kiss Chris, then led him inside. I was filled with rage. That was my boyfriend. And she thought that she could just snatch him away from me? Absolutely not. Chris and I had been together for five years, we were planning on getting married! I’d been dropping hints to him about it constantly for the past year, and I knew that it would happen. I sped home and waited for Chris patiently. But I hadn’t said anything. Not yet. The timing wasn’t right and I didn’t have enough information. So, I acted completely normal. I smiled and kissed him and made him a hot meal. And afterward, when he went to bed, I looked at his phone. It was the most logical next step. I scrolled through dirty texts between him and Claire, that’s where I learned her name and her age. It turned out that this relationship had been going on for about a month and a half, and from what I gathered, it was pretty much just sex. I couldn’t decide if that made me feel better, since they clearly didn’t have an emotional connection, or worse, because he obviously found her more physically attractive than me. Over the course of the next month, I drove to Claire’s apartment a couple times to learn more about her. I waited for her to leave and come back, then I followed her inside and learned which apartment she lived in. I then found out her daily routine, watching to learn what she did every day. She normally left first around eight o’clock and drove to a nearby gym. She’d workout there for about an hour then head back home, probably for some healthy protein shake. No wonder she was so skinny. Then, when she didn’t have class at the local University, she’d head off to her job at Starbucks, where she made coffee and laughed with coworkers her whole shift. Most nights she stayed in, probably doing homework. The only times she left at night were to greet Chris and occasionally go out and party with her friends. She seemed like a pretty normal college student. If I’d seen her walking down the street, I wouldn’t have thought much. Unfortunately though, she was sleeping with my future husband. That caused a lot of problems. Last night I’d taken a little field trip to Claire’s apartment, the last one I would ever take. I smiled now as I watched the stew boil in the crock-pot. I couldn’t wait for Chris to eat it. After he did, all of this would be over. Both Chris and Claire would no longer be in my life. I would never have to worry about either of them ever again. I sat peacefully on the couch, watching mindless sitcoms on TV while I waited for Chris to get home. I stayed planted on the couch when I heard the door open. I kept my eyes on the TV. “Hey Rach,” Chris said. “I’m so sorry, things got so crazy at work.” I smiled. “Things always seem to get crazy on Thursdays.” I lifted my eyes to meet Chris’s. He laughed nervously. “Yeah,” he said. “Busy day for the office I guess.” He turned his attention to the crock-pot. “This looks delicious, babe.” I turned the TV off and got up, getting bowls and spoons out of the cabinets. I scooped a couple spoonfuls of stew into a bowl and handed it to Chris, grinning ear to ear. I couldn’t help but feel joyful right now. “Thanks,” he said, sitting down at the table. I scooped some stew into a bowl for myself and sat across from him. He dug in immediately, barely even slowing down for air. “This is incredible,” he said with a mouthful of stew. “Well, there’s a secret ingredient,” I said mysteriously. “Whatever it is, it’s amazing,” Chris said, continuing to devour his stew. “Don’t you want to know what it is?” I asked. I hadn’t touched my stew yet. I wanted to see the look on Chris’s face when I told him what the secret ingredient was. “Sure,” he said. “Wait, is it red wine?” I shook my head and laughed. “No silly,” I said. “It’s this weird type of meat I found. It’s called Claire.” Chris suddenly stopped eating his stew. He stared at me, his cheeks full with the remains of his mistress. “What?” he asked. “Claire,” I repeated, as if it should be obvious. “It’s her. In the stew.” I took a small spoonful of the stew and slurped it down. “Doesn’t she give it an extra kick?” Chris spit out his stew into the bowl and ran over to the sink to rinse his mouth out. I smiled. As if rinsing his mouth out would change the fact that he’d ingested his mistress. “Are you crazy?” he asked. “What- how?” I got up and walked over to the drawers with the cutlery, just like I’d rehearsed. I opened the top drawer and calmly pulled out the biggest knife we owned. “Rachel,” Chris said, eyeing the knife. “Please put down the knife. It didn’t mean anything, it was just sex! I swear to god she means nothing to me, you mean everything to me. I love you, Rachel.” I rested the tip of the knife against my chin and pondered Chris’s words. “You see, I want to believe you,” I said, stepping closer toward him. “But you’ve already lied so much. I just don’t think you should get any more chances.” I took the knife away from my chin and pressed the point into Chris’s neck. He swallowed. “Rachel, please,” he said. “Don’t do this. I’ll leave, and I’ll never talk to you again and I won’t tell anyone about what you did to Claire. Please, just let me go.” I pressed the knife deeper into Chris’s neck so that it drew blood. He gasped. “I don’t think that’s gonna work,” I said. “I mean, how am I supposed to trust you after everything you’ve lied about? No, I think I’m going to have to kill you.” “Rachel, ple-” I cut him off, literally. I took the knife and I sliced violently into Chris’s neck. His head toppled to the floor with a loud thud . I smirked down at it. Finally, the world was free of the biggest liar and the biggest whore it had ever produced. Order had been restored. *** “Hi Daniel,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m Rachel.” He was much better looking than Chris. He was taller, with a more chiseled jawline and silkier hair. And, if what the pictures on his dating profile showed were true, he had some serious abs. “I hope you don’t think it’s a little weird that I asked you to come over on the first date.” “It’s nice to meet you Rachel,” Daniel said, shaking my hand. “And it’s not weird at all. I’m honoured to have been invited to your apartment so soon.” I smiled. “Of course,” I said. “Would you like to have a seat? I’ve made a very special recipe of mine just for you.” “I can’t wait,” he said, seating himself at the kitchen table. I made my way over to the counter, grabbed a bowl from the cabinet, and scooped a couple spoonfuls of stew into it. I handed the bowl to Daniel, then proceeded to get a bowl for myself. Once I was seated across from him, we dug in. “Mm,” Daniel said. “This is delicious. What’s in it?” “Oh, you know,” I said. “Peppers, peas, carrots, potatoes, all the normal stew things.” “This meat is amazing,” Daniel said, shoveling spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. “It’s so juicy. Is it just regular beef?” “Yeah,” I said. “Something like that.”