Oblivion Tasted Like the Love He Betrayed

Ethan once told me the faint aroma of food clinging to my skin was the scent he'd treasure for the rest of his life.

He sat on a cold bench outside my kitchen for an entire night, waiting for me to perfect a single sauce.

I thought that was love.

Then he gave away the winery I'd dreamed of my entire life to another woman during a global livestream, casually saying, "As long as you like it."

I made scenes. I went crazy. I threw away my dignity trying to win back his heart.

But when he didn't hesitate to carry his mistress out of a fire without even glancing back at me, I finally understood.

Once sincerity rots, it can never be mended.

That night, I made him one final dish. I called it "Oblivion."

Anna's POV

The glow from the kitchen fire illuminated my calm face.

The aroma of French slow-roasted squab filled the air. Black truffle juices sizzled softly under the high heat.

Today marked the day L'ternit officially earned its third Michelin star. And my third wedding anniversary with Ethan.

For this celebration dinner, I'd turned down all media interviews and stood in the kitchen for six straight hours.

Ethan once said the thing he treasured most in this life was the faint scent of food on my skin.

He'd sat on a freezing bench outside my kitchen for an entire night, waiting for me to perfect a single sauce.

He'd spent a fortune building me the finest private kitchen in all of America.

"Miss Anna..." My assistant Lynn pushed open the kitchen door, her steps frantic. She clutched her tablet tightly, her eyes evasive.

"How long until he arrives?" I placed the final gold leaf garnish on the plate, my voice gentle.

Lynn bit her lip. Her eyes suddenly reddened as she handed over the tablet. "Mr. Sinclair... he probably won't make it."

On the screen was a livestream of a top-tier winery auction in Bordeaux, France.

At the center of the frame stood Ethan in a bespoke tailored suit, his posture impeccable, his handsome face wearing a casual smile.

He'd just bid one point five billion dollars for the legendary "Moonlight Winery."

That was my lifelong dream. I'd curled up in his arms countless times, describing how I'd buy that winery and use its grapes to create a signature sauce just for him. He'd kissed my forehead then, murmuring a promise. "I'll definitely buy it for you."

And now, before the eyes of the world, Ethan casually handed the ownership documents to a young woman beside him.

Her name was Chloe, a recently viral food blogger known for her innocent eyes and clumsy yet heartfelt cooking videos.

Chloe covered her mouth in excitement, stood on her tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to Ethan's cheek.

"Thank you, Ethan! I'll definitely use these grapes to make you the best wine ever!"

Ethan didn't pull away. Instead, he indulgently touched her hair and spoke casually into the camera. "As long as you like it."

The kitchen fell deathly silent.

Lynn watched me nervously.

A year ago, when Ethan was linked to an actress, I drove my car straight into hers.

Six months ago, when he was photographed on a yacht with a strange woman, I had people destroy that yacht the same night.

Everyone knew I loved Ethan intensely. Obsessively. Even madly.

I wouldn't allow anyone to touch him.

"Anna, PR is asking if we should handle that girl the usual way?" Lynn asked carefully, afraid I'd overturn this meticulously prepared dinner any second.

I stared quietly at Ethan's doting smile on the screen.

That smile once belonged only to me. Now he'd given away my dream, my treasured promise, so casually to another woman.

There was no hysterical screaming, no angry destruction. I just felt my heart squeezed by an invisible hand. The pain so extreme it turned into a strange numbness.

"No." My voice was eerily calm, calm enough to frighten Lynn.

I pulled out a chair and sat down, picking up my knife and fork to cut into the squab that had grown slightly cold. I placed it in my mouth.

The premium ingredients filled my mouth, but I tasted nothing. Each swallow felt like shredded glass scraping down my throat.

"Miss Anna..."

"Tell everyone to leave early. The restaurant will be closed tomorrow." I swallowed the last bite and picked up my napkin, dabbing my lips with perfect grace.

For two years, I'd made scenes, gone crazy, trampled all my dignity trying to keep this man's heart. But once sincerity rots, it can never be stitched back together.

I removed my Michelin chef's whites that symbolized my honor and tossed them casually over the chair.

I was tired. I didn't want to fight anymore.

Anna's POV

Morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto the kitchen island.

I held a cup of black coffee, head down as I revised next season's menu in my notebook. My expression was focused and cold, as if last night's betrayal that had exploded across the internet didn't exist at all.

The sound of the security code unlocking came from the front door.

Ethan walked in carrying the cool air of Bordeaux and a barely noticeable sweet perfume scent.

He stood at the entrance, his gaze sweeping over the quiet living room, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.

He removed his suit jacket and walked to the island, looking down at me from his height.

"I'm back." He spoke with a testing tone that also carried his usual arrogance.

I didn't even lift my head, just crossed out a line in the recipe. "Mm."

He laughed coldly and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "You saw the news? You finally understand that making scenes doesn't work?"

I looked at this familiar yet strange face, my eyes showing no ripple of emotion.

"The winery is just an investment for Sinclair Group. Chloe's image is perfect for brand ambassador. Don't overthink it." He released my chin, explaining naturally.

"I'm not overthinking." I lowered my eyes and continued reading the menu.

"Good." Ethan drummed his fingers on the counter, his tone brooking no argument.

"Tomorrow is Chloe's twenty-fourth birthday. She's always admired you and wants to try your cooking. Clear out L'ternit's VIP room, create a special menu personally, and throw her a birthday party."

He wanted his wife to personally cook for his mistress in the restaurant that had just earned three Michelin stars.

This was grinding my dignity into the ground.

Ethan stared at me intently, as if waiting for me to explode.

However, my hand holding the pen only paused for one second before I continued writing the menu as if nothing had happened.

"Alright." My voice was as calm as stagnant water. "I'll arrange the menu."

Ethan froze.

"As long as you behave, the position of Mrs. Sinclair will always be yours." He smiled with satisfaction.

I pulled out a thick stack of documents from beside me and pushed them toward him.

"This is the authorization for next quarter's imported premium ingredients. As the controlling shareholder, you need to sign."

Ethan didn't even look. He simply pulled out his fountain pen and signed his name at the bottom of each page.

"Just decide these small matters yourself from now on. Don't bother me with them." After signing, he pushed the documents back and turned toward the bathroom.

I quietly watched his retreating figure, then flipped to the third page from the back.

It was a drafted divorce agreement.

In the property division section, I'd chosen to leave with nothing except the restaurant brand I'd created before marriage. And in the lower right corner, Ethan's signature was clear and glaring.

The ink wasn't yet dry. Just like our marriage, finally reaching its end.

That evening, L'ternit's VIP room was brilliantly lit.

Ethan sat at the head of the table with Chloe nestled beside him, surrounded by several of Ethan's friends. Everyone wore mocking expressions, waiting for me to appear.

Everyone knew my terrible temper. They were certain I'd cause a scene at tonight's banquet.

Anna's POV

The door to the private room opened.

I wore crisp white chef's whites and white gloves, followed by a line of servers. I directed the service expressionlessly with elegant movements, as if truly serving a group of ordinary diners.

The final signature dessert was brought to the table.

It was my signature creation, "Snowfall."

White truffle ice cream processed with liquid nitrogen, paired with an extremely complex vanilla extract that melted instantly on the tongue like dissolving snowflakes.

This wasn't just the restaurant's signature dish. It was the dessert I'd personally made for Ethan when he proposed five years ago.

"Chloe, try it. This is Mrs. Sinclair's signature creation. People wait six months outside just to taste it," one wealthy patron said.

Chloe glanced at me timidly, then picked up a spoon and placed a small bite in her mouth.

After just one second, she frowned slightly and set down her spoon.

"What's wrong? You don't like it?" Ethan immediately turned his head, his tone showing undisguised concern.

Chloe bit her lip, looking somewhat aggrieved. "Miss Anna's technique is truly excellent, it's just... this dessert tastes too cold. It feels like eating something made by a precision machine. Ethan, I don't understand all those sophisticated techniques. I just feel that food should be warm, should have soul..."

The room fell instantly silent. These words were tantamount to publicly slapping a three-Michelin-star chef in the face.

Everyone looked at Ethan, waiting for him to defend his wife.

However, Ethan only glanced at "Snowfall" before pushing the plate away without hesitation.

"Chloe's right." Ethan lifted his head, his gaze piercing coldly toward me. "Anna, your cooking has become too commercialized. Your head is full of techniques. You've completely lost the soul of food. Yesterday, Chloe fried me an egg at home that had more flavor than this dessert you worked so hard on."

The others let out low chuckles.

I stood there, staring at the pushed-away plate.

Once upon a time, Ethan had waited three hours for me in subzero snow just to taste "Snowfall." When he took the first bite, his eyes reddened as he said, "Anna, this is the most soulful flavor I've ever tasted in my life."

Now he said it wasn't as good as his mistress's fried egg.

The pain in my chest had gone numb. I even found it somewhat laughable.

I didn't explode as they expected, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply raised my hand calmly and snapped my fingers.

"Clear them away."

The servers stepped forward to remove the desserts.

But I picked up the two plates of "Snowfall" in front of Ethan and Chloe. I turned and walked to the trash can in the corner. Then I flicked my wrist.

The exquisite porcelain plates, along with the expensive desserts, crashed into the garbage.

"Anna! What are you doing!" Ethan shot to his feet, his face livid.

I removed my white gloves and tossed them on the table, my gaze cold as ice. "Since Mr. Sinclair's palate has degraded to only appreciating fried eggs, stop wasting my premium ingredients here. Garbage belongs in the garbage can."

With that, I didn't spare Ethan another glance and strode out of the room.

Anna's POV

Early morning, the moment I stepped into the restaurant, the purchasing manager rushed up to me drenched in sweat.

"Miss Anna, we have a problem! Our exclusive white truffle supplier in Alba, Italy suddenly terminated our contract unilaterally! That's the core ingredient for next month's new menu. Without it, our Michelin star review will be seriously affected!"

My brow furrowed. "They're willing to pay the penalty?"

"They said... Sinclair Group acquired their estate. All white truffle production has been absorbed internally."

My movements froze abruptly.

Sinclair Group. Ethan.

Without hesitation, I drove straight to Sinclair Group headquarters.

Top floor, CEO's office. The secretary tried to stop me but couldn't block me as I radiated cold fury.

I pushed open the heavy double doors.

Behind the massive desk, Ethan leaned back in his chair. Chloe wore an obviously oversized men's dress shirt, sitting on his lap with a delicate silver spoon in hand, feeding him an extremely precious slice of white truffle.

Hearing the door open, Chloe yelped and curled into Ethan's arms like a frightened rabbit.

Ethan patted Chloe's back reassuringly, then looked at me coldly. "Don't you know to knock? Where are your manners?"

I slammed the rejected procurement contract onto his desk, papers scattering everywhere.

"You cut off my white truffle supply?" I stared at him, my voice icy.

Ethan casually adjusted his cuffs. "Chloe's preparing to launch her own high-end food brand recently. She's focusing on truffle sauce. She needs the best raw materials. Your restaurant already has three stars. One less dish won't affect anything."

Chloe peeked out from his embrace, her eyes reddening. "Miss Anna, I'm sorry. I didn't know Ethan would take your allocation. If you really need it, I can give you some..."

"Shut up." I didn't even glance at her, my gaze locked on Ethan. "Ethan, that's L'ternit's lifeline. I spent three years securing that exclusive contract. You destroyed my achievement to make her cheap canned sauce?"

Ethan frowned, impatience flashing in his eyes.

"Anna, don't be so petty. Chloe's just starting out. She needs publicity. As a senior, you should support her. They're just a few mushrooms. I'll compensate you ten times the money afterward."

A few mushrooms.

I looked at this man before me. He'd not only betrayed our marriage but was now brazenly trampling on the professional faith I held as dear as life.

He knew exactly what it meant to me, yet for a beauty's smile, he tore my kingdom apart so easily.

"No need for compensation." I suddenly smiled, though the smile never reached my eyes, radiating bone-deep coldness.

I looked deeply at Ethan one last time. That gaze held no more love, no more hatred. Only barren, desolate emptiness.

"I hope her canned sauce is worth your one and a half billion."

I turned and left, my spine straight.

That evening was a charity gala that had all of New York buzzing.

As a special guest, I donated a sugar sculpture called "Ember's Grace."

I'd spent an entire month painstakingly creating the phoenix from extremely fragile sugar threads. It was breathtakingly beautiful, with a starting bid of five million dollars.

This wasn't just an artwork. It was an important chip for demonstrating my capabilities to the international culinary world.

Ethan attended with Chloe. She wore a pure white haute couture gown, like a delicate white flower, clinging tightly to Ethan's arm.

Five years ago, my family faced disaster. Ethan descended like a god and cleared all our debts.

Later, in a kitchen fire accident, Ethan inhaled massive amounts of smoke trying to save me, causing severe damage to his taste nerves.

For an entire year, everything tasted like nothing to him. He became volatile and irritable. Only the special soup I continually prepared for him allowed him to taste even a hint of flavor.

He'd held me once, his eyes red, saying, "Anna, you're my life, my only sense of taste in this world."

But now his taste had recovered, and his life had become someone else.

The gala reached its climax when "Ember's Grace" was wheeled onto the display platform. Under the lights, the sugar threads refracted dazzling brilliance.

Chloe pulled Ethan forward, apparently wanting a closer look.

"Wow, so beautiful..." Chloe exclaimed, then suddenly stumbled, her entire body pitching straight toward the display.

CRASH.

A tremendous sound.

Ember's Grace, which took a month to create, instantly shattered into fine sugar fragments.

Anna's POV

The entire room erupted in chaos.

Chloe sat collapsed among the scattered sugar pieces, covering her face with both hands, crying pitifully. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... my ankle twisted..."

I stood a few steps away, staring at the crystalline fragments covering the floor, my mind briefly blank. That represented countless sleepless nights, every ounce of effort I'd poured into my work.

Ethan rushed forward and swept Chloe up from the ground, anxiously checking her hands and feet. "Are you hurt anywhere? Does it hurt?"

After confirming Chloe was fine, he whipped around and glared at me furiously. "Why did you place such a fragile item by the walkway?! Are you trying to kill someone?!"

I watched his enraged appearance and found it utterly absurd.

"Ethan, are you blind?" My voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly to everyone's ears. "The display is six feet from the walkway. Did she fly over there?"

"Anna! Enough!" Ethan cut me off sharply. "Chloe already apologized. What more do you want? It's just a broken sugar sculpture. Is it worth getting this angry over?"

I closed my eyes and swallowed the bloody taste rising in my throat.

During the subsequent auction, to comfort the shaken Chloe, Ethan announced on the spot that he'd bid ten million dollars for a box of burnt cookies Chloe had supposedly "personally baked" for charity.

All the cameras focused on them, praising Ethan's devotion.

Meanwhile, the Michelin chef whose work was destroyed stood alone in the shadows like a forgotten joke.

I didn't look at them again. I turned and walked out of the banquet hall. The night wind cut through me, chilling me to the bone. My love, along with that phoenix, had shattered completely into dust.

Several days later, a video went viral across the internet.

Chloe posted an episode on her personal channel titled "Original Spring Secret." In the video, she wore an apron, using clumsy yet "creative" techniques to prepare an extremely complex molecular gastronomy dish.

I watched the video on screen, my blood instantly freezing.

That wasn't any original creation! It was the brand new spring signature dish I was preparing to unveil at next month's global launch! The recipe was extremely complex. Aside from myself, no one else knew it.

The only possibility was that my private notebook draft had been leaked.

Online sentiment shifted instantly. Chloe's fans began viciously attacking L'ternit, accusing me, the supposed three-star chef, of being a thief who'd plagiarized an influencer's creativity.

The restaurant's reservation line was flooded with cancellations and abuse.

I immediately pulled up the home security footage. The video clearly showed that two days ago when Ethan brought Chloe to the villa to get something, Chloe had snuck into my private study and photographed the notebook contents with her phone.

I had evidence.

I grabbed the USB drive and called Ethan. "Have your PR department issue a clarification statement immediately. I'll simultaneously release the surveillance video of Chloe stealing the recipe."

Thirty minutes later, Ethan didn't issue any statement. Instead, he rushed straight back to the villa.

He walked quickly to the main console and, under my icy gaze, pressed the format button without hesitation.

All the surveillance records vanished instantly.

"Have you lost your mind?" I stared at the blackened screen, my voice trembling.

Ethan turned around, his brow furrowed, his tone carrying unquestionable firmness. "Anna, Chloe's about to sign with a major international brand. If a theft scandal breaks now, her entire career is destroyed!"

"What about MY career?!" I raised my voice sharply, my eyes reddening. "I'm being cyberbullied across the internet for plagiarism! My restaurant's reputation is destroyed! Ethan, that's my life's work!"

"You already have three Michelin stars! You can spare one dish!" Ethan gripped my shoulders, trying to convince me with his twisted logic. "You have so many recipes. Just write a new one! Consider this dish a gift to Chloe. I'll compensate you. I'll buy you the best downtown location and open ten new restaurants!"

Looking at this man before me, I suddenly found him as alien as a monster.

He not only wanted to strip away my love but also destroy my pride, forcing me to bear the infamy for a thief.

"You want me to bow my head and confess to a thief?" I asked softly, my voice drifting like a ghost.

Ethan's eyes flickered, but he continued. "As long as you stay silent, this will blow over quickly. Anna, I'm begging you to let Chloe go."

For another woman, he begged me for the first time.

I looked at him and suddenly laughed. The laughter echoed through the empty villa, desolate and desperate.

"Fine." I stopped laughing and looked at Ethan, my eyes hollow and terrifying. "I'll stay silent."

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief and reached out to hug me, but I dodged him.

I turned and walked upstairs. With each step, another shovelful of dirt was added to the grave in my heart.

Anna's POV

Three days later, at the law office, I received the legally binding divorce certificate.

Because I'd walked away with nothing and waived all property disputes, the process went unusually smoothly. Ethan's grandfather sighed for a long time on the phone but could do nothing.

Leaving the law office, I returned once to the Sinclair family villa. My private research kitchen was there, containing a recipe book my late grandfather had left me. It was the only thing I wanted to take.

Pushing open the research kitchen door, I froze.

Chloe stood at the stove wearing my backup chef's coat, holding a blowtorch, attempting to recreate a high-difficulty flamb dish.

"What are you doing here?" I said coldly.

Chloe startled, and the blowtorch in her hand jerked sideways. Blue flames instantly ignited the oil-resistant paper stacked nearby. The fire fed on the kitchen oils and spread like a beast.

Chloe screamed and dropped the torch. Flames shot up the curtains.

Thick smoke rolled as alarms shrieked.

Ignoring Chloe's screams, I immediately covered my nose and mouth and rushed toward the innermost safe, quickly entering the code and retrieving the yellowed recipe book.

Just then, the kitchen door was kicked open violently.

Ethan charged in like a madman. Through the firelight, he immediately spotted Chloe collapsed on the floor coughing from smoke, and me standing by the safe, separated by a wall of flames.

He didn't hesitate for even a second.

Ethan stripped off his expensive coat and wrapped it around Chloe. He scooped her into his arms and turned without hesitation, rushing out of the inferno.

I stood in place, watching through the dancing flames and acrid smoke as that man's broad back disappeared through the door.

He didn't even look back at me. Didn't ask once if I could get out.

The temperature rose around me, yet I felt plunged into freezing water.

I didn't call for help or shed tears. I simply calmly placed Grandpa's recipe book into a fireproof bag, then dampened a towel to cover my nose and mouth, avoided the worst of the fire, and walked out through the back emergency exit.

Outside the villa, fire trucks had arrived.

Ethan knelt on the lawn, clutching Chloe tightly, shouting frantically at the paramedics. "Check her quickly! She inhaled smoke!"

I held the fireproof bag, standing quietly in the shadows, watching this tender scene.

Only after Chloe was loaded into the ambulance did Ethan suddenly seem to remember something. His face turned deathly pale as he turned and tried to rush back into the still-burning villa.

"Anna! Anna's still inside!" His voice was hoarse with unprecedented panic.

An icy hand landed on his shoulder.

Ethan whipped around and, seeing me, pulled me into a death grip, his entire body trembling. "You're okay... thank God, you scared me to death..."

I didn't struggle, letting him hold me. I felt his violent heartbeat, smelled Chloe's perfume clinging to him.

"Ethan." I spoke softly, my voice completely flat.

"Let go. You're dirtying my clothes."

I pushed him away coldly and walked into the night without looking back.