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Alyssa"s mother had made sure she knew how to cook. After all, providing for your husband was about the highest task in life a woman could get in her eyes. For her mother cooking had always been about what someone else liked. So often Alyssa had wanted to point out there was no man in the house, so who on earth were they hypothetically making dinner for?
(She never actually raised that point, of course, because she knew for a fact her mother had only started cooking after her dad left. She suspected her mother wasn"t so much preparing Alyssa for the married life, as punishing herself for a perceived slight that caused the end of her marriage. As if it had been her lack of culinary skills, and not Alyssa"s father"s cheating ways, that had broken them up.)
As a result, Alyssa had always hated cooking. It came with so many associations, so many expectations, that she"d resolved to find herself a partner who would make dinner for her and not the other way around. She would happily do all the other chores - she"d clean up after and do the vacuum cleaning and she"d even take on ironing - as long as she would never have to prepare food again.
Which is why she was currently crying tears of happiness in their new home, while Emma was looking at her with wide eyes, panic and concern written all over her face.
"What did I do wrong?" she asked, crouching down near the couch were Alyssa was sitting. "Do you not trust my food? I promise you what I make is always edible."
Alyssa shook her head. "These are happy tears," she said, smiling up at her partner. "I always thought I"d have to resort to stupid excuses, I"d have to tell my partner I"m so bad at cooking I could burn water, and here you are, just taking it on, no questions asked."
"Of course, "Lyss," Emma said, some confusion in her voice. "I"ve heard you complain about having to make dinner enough times to know you hate it with a burning passion. I will always want to make life easier for you if it"s within my power. And I quite enjoy making food for someone I love. I get to pour all that love into something real."
"My mother would be so proud," Alyssa teased and Emma playfully swatted her.
"You shut your dirty mouth or you will have to make dinner yourself," she said.
Alyssa mimed zipping her mouth shut. "You want some company in the kitchen?"
"I would love that," Emma said. "Tell me about your day."
Alyssa snorted. "You do realise we spent like 90% of it together, right?"
"That"s still 10% of your life for me to discover," Emma answered. "And I want to know everything."