I Kicked My Husband Out Over Chicken and I Don’t Regret a Thing

**”I Kicked My Husband Out Over a Chicken, and I Dont Regret a Thing”**

That day, Olivia was exhausted. Shed spent the morning tidying the lounge, hanging laundry, picking up their sons toys, and scrubbing the windows. Finally, she peeked into the oventhe roast chicken with golden potatoes was perfect, filling the kitchen with a dizzyingly delicious aroma.

“Just ten more minutes,” she muttered, setting the timer before dashing to the bathroom to clean the grout. Everything was going smoothly until the front door slammed.

“The kids must be home,” she thought. But on the doorstep stood neither James nor Emilyit was her husband, William, who was supposed to be “at the garage” all morning.

“Oh, that smells amazing!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “Your roast chicken always wins!”

“Call the kids for dinner,” Olivia replied, turning back to the sink.

A minute later, little bare feet pounded the hardwood, trainers flew into the hallway, and laughter erupted. Hearing an argument, Olivia stepped out, forgetting the timer.

“Whats going on?” she asked, hands still gloved.

“I want a drumstick!” shouted Emily, age ten.

“Me too!” insisted James, eight.

“There are two, arent there?” Olivia said, confused.

“No! Theres only one left!” Emily stomped her foot.

Olivia walked to the table. Sure enough, half the chicken was gone. Only the breast and a few lonely potatoes remained.

“Wheres your father?”

“He left. Took half the chicken and just left,” James grumbled.

Olivia grabbed her phone and called Williamno answer. Snatching the keys, she stormed out. Her anger boiled over: again! Hed taken the best for himself. But this time, it wasnt even for himit was for his mates. This wasnt just selfishness; it was betrayal.

Near the village square, William sat on a bench with his friends. Beers in hand, chicken on his lap, they laughed, ate, and licked their fingers.

“Not too heavy for you?” she snapped, eyes blazing.

“Go home. Well talk later,” William muttered, embarrassed in front of his pals.

“No, well talk now! You stole what I made for our children! Have you no shame? Its not enough you always hog the best bitsnow youre feeding your mates with what isnt yours?”

“Piss off before I lose my temper,” he shot back, grabbing her arm.

“What are you doing?” Olivia gasped. “Youre not just selfish, Williamyoure a thief. A thief who steals food from his own kids to fatten up your drunk mates!”

“Stop making a scene, Liv,” he grumbled, humiliated. “It was just this once.”

“Once? What about the chocolates? The truffles from my mum you scarfed in a day? Or the barbecue where you left the kids with burnt bits while you stuffed yourself with the best cuts?”

Olivia turned on her heel and marched home.

That evening, when he returned, she stood by the window.

“You should see yourself,” William sneered. “‘Divorce over a chicken.’ You belong on telly.”

“I want a divorce,” she said coldly. “You still dont get it. Its not about the chicken. Its about your rudeness, your greed, and the fact you only ever think of yourself.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” he mocked.

“Your mums. The one who taught you the best bits are yours. Let her share with you now.”

William left, convinced Olivia was bluffing. But the next day, she filed the papers. He slept at his mothers.

Two weeks later, her phone rang.

“You were right,” sighed her ex-mother-in-law. “He eats everything here. I buy chocolates, have onethe rest vanish by nightfall. I thought you were exaggerating. But yesterday, he even took the last drop from the kettle without asking.”

“Want me to take him back?” Olivia asked, surprised.

“No just needed to vent, I suppose.”

“Good luck, then. Ive moved on from that glutton. And guess what? I can finally breathe.”

**Todays Lesson: Love makes us tolerate much. But when selfishness rules the table, it chokes the soul of the home.**

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I Kicked My Husband Out Over Chicken and I Don’t Regret a Thing
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