Page 3 of Go Cook Yourself

“Babe, don’t leave me. Viv was just sex,” Neil says as Viv dabs at his flaccid and bleeding penis. I modelled my first Naughty Treat cookies on that pathetic excuse for a penis.

I sigh, shove my hair into a bun before yanking the Xbox’s cables from the wall, and tuck the game console under my arm.

“I don’t care anymore. You don’t deserve me.” I don’t know if I believe that, but I want to hurt him as he hurt me. I swipe at the tears that brim my eyes and snap, “The sex wasn’t great when we met, and then it got worse. I’m done.”

I stumble over Neil’s five pairs of expensive trainers before losing my shit and throwing them out of the front door and onto the front lawn.

“You didn’t even mow the lawn,” I yell over my shoulder as if it matters.

I slam the door hard to make a dramatic exit, which is pointless, as my last words were about mowing the damn lawn. I speed-dial my sister as I throw my bag and the Xbox into my rusty tin bucket of a car.

I have no money, no partner, and no friends, and I’m about to make a ridiculous decision that will put me into the orbit of one of the sexiest chefs ever to hand-roll pasta.

Amber answers on the second ring. “I know you’ll say you can’t come, but please consider my offer again. The doctor told me I have to go on maternity leave early and–”

“I’m on my way. I’ll be with you in about four hours,” I announce loud enough for the nosey cow at number five to hear. I point at her net curtains, which suddenly flop down. She could’ve told me my boyfriend was sleeping with my business partner. She’s mentioned the lawn often enough.

From the driver’s seat, I close my eyes and fist and stretch my hands as if making biscuit dough. My pulse beats out of control.

I remember all the times Neil encouraged me to work late because we needed the money and the times Viv checked when I was coming home so we could “discuss the business.” I flip down my visor and stare at my wild-eyed appearance. My bun is already a shaggy mess, and the dark circles under my eyesremind me that I’ve strained under the relationship and trying to make the business a success for too long.

“But you said your business and life were too important,” Amber fumbles through her words. I bet she’s rubbing her baby bump. This pregnancy and the fact that her naval officer husband is away on a submarine for some secret mission have got to her. Another reason why I must go home. I need to be with her and run that school.

But she’s a confident and skilled cookery school manager, and you’re not.I glare at myself.Suck it up, buttercup. You’re going home and learning cooking skills from a hot chef, which will help you develop a better dirty treats business.

“I’m coming, and I have an Xbox for you to play on until the baby comes. So you can put your feet up and—”

“But what about Neil?” Amber crows.

“I don’t have a boyfriend anymore.” I grip the steering wheel as I run through all the reasons why staying would be a bigger mistake than going to the cookery school.

“Good. I hated that guy. He was lazy, selfish, and never supported your dreams.”

“And he broke the bowl you gave me when I started Naughty Treats.”

And he slept with my friend and business partner in my kitchen. But I’ll wait until we’re sharing cookie dough ice cream to tell her that.

“The bastard. I’ll break him if I get the chance.”

I laugh long and loud. It was what I needed my sister to say. Once the twins are born, Neil’s a goner. Pregnant with twins and without her husband, she must have been struggling for months. My true best friend and sister, who’s always there for me, needed me.

“I’m sorry for not coming home sooner. I’ve wasted all this time in an ugly city with a crappy boyfriend—”

“Ruby, you can beat yourself up when you get here. Just come home so I can cuddle you.”

“I am sorry, though. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”

“I’ll put you through the wringer, don’t you worry,” she jokes. “Can you start tomorrow?”

“Yep. I can’t wait.” My reflection tells me off for lying, and I stick my tongue out at my brown eyes and freckled nose. “I’ll be at yours in four hours and then start tomorrow morning at the cookery school.”

“Fantastic. See you soon, baby sister,” Amber adds. “Love you to the sky and back.”

“And even further,” I say softly before hanging up.

I glance through the window of my former house, where a weeping Neil holds himself while Viv throws rolls of bandages at him. I start the car, which splutters.

“Come on, girl.” Quickly, she starts revving like she’s about to pass out. “It’s now or never.”

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