Fantasy Flashes

Apple Pie

My husband loves it when I make him pastries for dessert, especially apple pie. And I loved to cook for him, I was the perfect little housewife in the eyes of strangers. My husband would come in after a long day of work and there I would be, setting the dinner table all ready for him. We'd have roasted pork for supper and then apple pie and ice cream for dessert. Life really was perfect. At least, for a little while.
​I soon realised my husband would no longer rush home for the sweet taste of my pie, and he began craving other desserts. The fluffy texture of Betty's brownies, the bit of salt in Cathy's caramel, and even the warm strawberry tarts Tabitha next door would make. Soon, every woman in town was fighting over who's baking was best for my husband. I'd decided I'd had enough after that. Why should I have to fight for my own husband's affections?
​I was determined to make one last apple pie to show him how much he longed for it after tasting all the tacky things the other women would make him. Mine was its own original recipe. But this time, I'd added something extra into the ingredients.
​My husband came home on time that night, his "meeting" prior had been cancelled. I'd told him we'd skip the main course and get straight into dessert, after all I had made his favourite. I eagerly watched as he shovelled my juicy pie right into his mouth. My eyes lit up when he mentioned the taste was different.

'Oh? That's strange, you've had it before.'

'I have?'

​I smiled. 

'Yes. I believe her name was Natalie.'