Goodbye, Mr. Weaponized Incompetence

My boyfriend, Ethan, was universally known as a "good guy." He didn’t smoke, didn’t party, and always came straight home after work.

When I came down with a severe flu and my fever spiked to 102°F, he immediately took charge of the kitchen and ordered me to stay in bed and rest.

Yet, in the span of just thirty minutes, he called my phone five times.

"Chloe, where is the garlic?"

"Do I need to boil the steak first? How do I even do that?"

When I finally dragged my weak, shivering body into the kitchen, I found the countertop flooded with water and covered in discarded vegetable leaves.