“I Have to Cook Every Day Because Henry Refuses to Eat Leftovers: Is There a Way Out?”

Gianna had always loved cooking. It was one of the things that brought her joy and a sense of accomplishment. But ever since she married Henry, her passion had turned into a daily grind. Henry had a peculiar quirk: he refused to eat leftovers. No matter how delicious the meal was the day before, he would turn his nose up at it if it wasn’t freshly made.

Every morning, Gianna would wake up an hour earlier than necessary to prepare Henry’s breakfast. She would scramble eggs, fry bacon, and toast bread, making sure everything was hot and ready by the time he came downstairs. As she cooked, her mind would race with ideas for lunch and dinner. Henry wouldn’t settle for a simple sandwich or salad; he demanded a full meal for lunch, complete with a main course and sides.

After breakfast, Gianna would start on lunch. She would fry cutlets or bake chicken, making sure everything was perfect. She would pack it all up in containers and leave it in the fridge for Henry to take to work. But she knew that by the time he got home, he would be expecting another freshly cooked meal.

Gianna worked a full-time job as a marketing manager. Her days were long and stressful, and by the time she got home, she was exhausted. But there was no time to rest; she had to start on dinner immediately. She would chop vegetables, marinate meat, and cook everything from scratch. By the time dinner was ready, she was too tired to enjoy it herself.

Henry never seemed to appreciate the effort Gianna put into cooking. He would eat his meals without a word of thanks, often criticizing her for not making something different or for not seasoning the food to his liking. Gianna felt like she was walking on eggshells, constantly trying to please him but never quite succeeding.

One evening, after a particularly long day at work, Gianna decided she couldn’t take it anymore. She had spent hours preparing a roast chicken with all the trimmings, only for Henry to complain that it was too dry. She snapped.

“Do you have any idea how hard I work to make sure you have fresh meals every day?” she yelled. “I’m exhausted, Henry! I can’t keep doing this!”

Henry looked taken aback but quickly recovered. “I didn’t ask you to cook every day,” he said coolly. “If you can’t handle it, maybe you should find someone who can.”

Gianna felt a lump form in her throat. She realized that no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to please Henry. He would always find something to complain about, always demand more than she could give.

That night, Gianna made a decision. She packed a bag and left Henry a note on the kitchen counter. “I can’t do this anymore,” it read. “I need to find my own happiness.”

As she drove away from their house, Gianna felt a sense of relief wash over her. She didn’t know what the future held, but she knew she couldn’t continue living like this. She needed to find someone who appreciated her for who she was, not just for the meals she cooked.