Wilson stumbled home in a daze, and the second he pushed open the door, the thick, pungent stench of spicy seasoned braised pasta hit him square in the face.
Luisa was propped up on the sofa, feet kicked up on the armrest, shoveling forkfuls of rich, savory pasta into her mouth while binge‑watching a TV series.
The second she spotted him, she dropped her bowl right away. "Wilson, you're home! Did those old fogeys at the hospital give you a hard time again? It's fine. They're just jealous you're young and killing it!"
If this had happened any time before, Wilson would have felt pure happiness right here. But not now.
Staring at the messy trash littering the floor, at the rich, fiery chili‑infused oil glistening at the corner of Luisa's mouth, all he felt was a churning wave of nausea ro
