My husband forced me to bake a pie every day, Then he would change something and make me eat it. One day, I handed<\/p>\n
the slice back and told him to take a bite\u2026 He refused, and I froze in fear \ud83d\ude31\ud83d\udc94<\/p>\n
When I married my husband, Victor, everyone warned me that he was a strange man.<\/p>\n
He rarely spoke, almost never smiled, and hated it when people came to our house without warning. But he had always<\/p>\n
been caring toward me. Whenever I was sick, he would sit beside me all night. When I came home exhausted from work, he<\/p>\n
would quietly make me tea. I thought his reserved personality was simply the result of a difficult childhood. But about a year<\/p>\n
after we got married, he began behaving very strangely. It all started on a Monday morning. Victor placed an old, worn recipe<\/p>\n
book on the table and said,<\/p>\n
\u201cStarting today, you\u2019re going to bake this pie every morning.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEvery morning?\u201d I laughed. \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t laugh.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust make it. It\u2019s important.\u201d<\/p>\n
The book contained an ordinary apple pie recipe. There was nothing unusual about it\u2014flour, butter, eggs, apples, and<\/p>\n
cinnamon. On the first day, I made it without asking any more questions. When I took the pie out of the oven, Victor asked<\/p>\n
me to leave the kitchen for a few minutes.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
It even seemed romantic at the time.<\/p>\n
A few minutes later, he called me back. A single slice of pie was waiting on the table. Victor sat across from me and watched<\/p>\n
until I had eaten every bite.<\/p>\n
The same thing happened the next day. And the day after that. I baked the entire pie, but as soon as it came out of the oven,<\/p>\n
Victor always sent me out of the kitchen. When I returned, he would place a slice in front of me and carefully watch me eat it.<\/p>\n
He never ate any himself. At first, I didn\u2019t think much of it. But after a few days, I noticed that my slice sometimes tasted<\/p>\n
different. One day, it was more bitter than usual. Another day, it had a strange metallic taste.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you adding something to it?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Victor froze for a moment.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
His answer came far too quickly.<\/p>\n
That night, I couldn\u2019t sleep. I kept thinking about the tension on his face and wondering why he insisted that I be the only<\/p>\n
one to eat the pie.<\/p>\n
The following week, I began feeling weak. Sometimes I became dizzy. I felt nauseous in the mornings, and my vision<\/p>\n
occasionally went dark while I was at work. When I told Victor, he seemed strangely relieved.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was expected,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat was expected?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you not to worry.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was the first time I became genuinely afraid of him.<\/p>\n
I remembered that Victor\u2019s first wife had died several months before we met. He almost never spoke about her. He had only<\/p>\n
told me that she had been ill for a long time. But what if her illness hadn\u2019t been natural?<\/p>\n
The thought terrified me. The more I tried to push it away, the more suspicious everything seemed. Victor\u2019s secretive<\/p>\n
personality. His first wife\u2019s death.<\/p>\n
The way he sent me out of the kitchen. The changing taste of my food. And most importantly, the fact that he never touched<\/p>\n
the pie himself.<\/p>\n
It even seemed romantic at the time.<\/p>\n
A few minutes later, he called me back. A single slice of pie was waiting on the table. Victor sat across from me and watched<\/p>\n
until I had eaten every bite.<\/p>\n
The same thing happened the next day. And the day after that. I baked the entire pie, but as soon as it came out of the oven,<\/p>\n
Victor always sent me out of the kitchen. When I returned, he would place a slice in front of me and carefully watch me eat it.<\/p>\n
He never ate any himself. At first, I didn\u2019t think much of it. But after a few days, I noticed that my slice sometimes tasted<\/p>\n
different. One day, it was more bitter than usual. Another day, it had a strange metallic taste.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you adding something to it?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Victor froze for a moment.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
His answer came far too quickly.<\/p>\n
That night, I couldn\u2019t sleep. I kept thinking about the tension on his face and wondering why he insisted that I be the only<\/p>\n
one to eat the pie.<\/p>\n
The following week, I began feeling weak. Sometimes I became dizzy. I felt nauseous in the mornings, and my vision<\/p>\n
occasionally went dark while I was at work. When I told Victor, he seemed strangely relieved.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was expected,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat was expected?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you not to worry.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was the first time I became genuinely afraid of him.<\/p>\n
I remembered that Victor\u2019s first wife had died several months before we met. He almost never spoke about her. He had only<\/p>\n
told me that she had been ill for a long time. But what if her illness hadn\u2019t been natural?<\/p>\n
The thought terrified me. The more I tried to push it away, the more suspicious everything seemed. Victor\u2019s secretive<\/p>\n
personality. His first wife\u2019s death.<\/p>\n
The way he sent me out of the kitchen. The changing taste of my food. And most importantly, the fact that he never touched<\/p>\n
the pie himself.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My husband forced me to bake a pie every day, Then he would change something and make me eat it.…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":1521,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1520","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/recipecorner.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1520","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/recipecorner.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/recipecorner.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/recipecorner.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/recipecorner.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1520"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/recipecorner.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1520\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1522,"href":"https:\/\/recipecorner.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1520\/revisions\/1522"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/recipecorner.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1521"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/recipecorner.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1520"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/recipecorner.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1520"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/recipecorner.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1520"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}