When Alexis’ parents forced her to marry Robert, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. Later, Alexis broke the one rule her husband gave her and entered the room he warned her about, unleashing secrets she wasn’t prepared for.
I couldn’t understand why my parents wanted me to get married before I found someone myself.
“Alexis,” my mother said, “Robert is a catch. He’s a wealthy man who will take care of you. You wouldn’t even have to work.”
I couldn’t refuse. My father had made it clear.
“You marry Robert, Alexis,” he said, puffing on his cigar. “Or you can figure out your own living arrangements.”
In a sense, Robert was my prince charming. Our family had a bakery, which was losing customers because we had no gluten-free options on the menu.
“We will continue to bake what we know,” my father insisted.
Our marriage was definitely an arranged one. Robert’s demeanor was cold, and he refused to let me get to know him properly. I don’t know how my father arranged our connection.
Our wedding was a spectacle of Robert’s affluence, nothing short of extravagant. Robert’s wedding planner had thought of everything.
My wedding dress was a custom piece that he commissioned for me. But even through our wedding planning, we barely spoke.
“I’m looking forward to being married,” he admitted one evening, a few days before the wedding.
“But I don’t know what I’m doing,” he added.
That was the closest Robert had gotten to letting me in.
Two days after our wedding, I moved into our new home.
“Come, I’ll show you around,” Robert said.
He took me around our home, a mansion boasting luxuries I’d never imagined before: sprawling golf courses, a shimmering swimming pool, and a fleet of staff at our beck and call.
“It’s beautiful,” I said when we got to the kitchen. “Everything is beautiful.”
“Now, Alexis, this house belongs to you too,” he declared with a hint of pride.
I smiled at the stranger standing in front of me. Maybe we were going to make something of our marriage.
“But one thing, Alexis,” he said. “There’s one rule. The attic. Never go in there.”
I nodded at Robert. I couldn’t fathom why I wouldn’t be allowed anywhere in the house. But I also recognized that I didn’t know my husband well enough yet. So, I had to obey.
A few days later, Robert went to a meeting, leaving me alone in our massive home.
Driven by curiosity stronger than any warning, I found myself ascending the stairs to the attic. My heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time.
A quick in and out, I thought to myself.
Pushing the door open, I was met with a sight that sent me to my knees, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know why I was crying. I didn’t know why I felt confusion and relief at the same time.
The attic, dimly lit, seemed to be a vault of my husband’s hidden memories. Childhood toys lay scattered, each carrying untold stories. Old postcards and photographs of Robert’s life before me. Among the relics were letters from a young boy to his father, a soldier away at war.
“How dare you come in here? Now, I have to change the locks in my own home because my wife does not respect my requests?”
Robert’s face turned red with rage.
“I just want to understand,” I stammered. “I just want to know you, Robert.”
Slowly, his rage dissolved, and he seemed to see me as a companion in his world, instead of the intruder he had made me out to be.
“Alexis,” he said, “Come, let’s sit.”
Robert led me to the living room.
“My father was a stern man. He was a soldier and he believed in keeping emotions locked away. These are the only things I have of a time when I felt loved,” he confessed.
My heart caught on his every word as his voice broke.
What followed was a revelation of his soul. Stories of a lonely childhood, of a boy yearning for his father’s approval, unfolded in our home.
In those vulnerable moments, I didn’t see the distant, cold man I had married but a boy who had never stopped seeking love and acceptance. He just didn’t know how to go about it.
In those few hours, things changed. Robert started letting me in. And now, years later, our home is filled with the cries and laughter of our daughter, April.
Through our daughter, Robert healed. He healed for himself, and for our daughter.
We’ve packed away everything from the attic, so it is no longer a shrine to Robert’s past but is now my little reading nook.
Shоuld Yоu Rinsе Grоund Вееf?
When it comes to cooking up a storm in the kitchen, ground beef is a culinary superhero. From tacos to spaghetti, this versatile ingredient has the power to turn a simple meal into a flavor-packed feast. But there’s a lingering question that divides kitchen warriors: Should you rinse your ground beef before cooking (or after)?
Some kitchen enthusiasts swear by rinsing their ground beef before (and after) cooking, and they have a few compelling reasons. First and foremost, rinsing can help reduce the fat content of the meat. If you’re trying to cut down on calories or simply want a leaner dish, giving your ground beef a quick rinse under hot water might be the trick.
Rinsing can also help eliminate excess grease, preventing your dish from turning into an oily mess. Imagine a perfect plate of spaghetti, where the star of the show isn’t overshadowed by a pool of unwanted fat. Rinsing can be the hero that sаvеs your meal from becoming a greasy catastrophe.
On the flip side, many cooks argue that rinsing ground beef is a culinary sin. One of the primary concerns is flavor loss. When you rinse ground beef, you risk washing away not only the fat but also some of the savory juices that make your dish delicious. After all, who wants a bland and dry burger when you were aiming for a flavor explosion?
Another point against rinsing is that it can be a messy affair. Picture yourself at the sink, trying to juggle a pound of ground beef while hot water splashes around. It’s not the most glamorous part of cooking, and the cleanup might not be worth the potential benefits.
While rinsing fat from ground beef down the sink might seem likе a convenient solution, it can lead to serious plumbing issues. As the fat cools, it solidifies and can clog pipes over time. This creates a recipe for disaster, potentially causing blockages, slow drainage, and even the need for costly plumbing repairs.
Dispose of fat from ground beef by letting it cool and solidify, then scrape it into a sealable container. Toss the container in the trash, preventing plumbing issues caused by pouring fat down the sink. Proper disposal ensures a smooth-running kitchen and avoids potential pipe blockages.
So, should you rinse your ground beef? The answer depends on your culinary goals and personal preferences, but our short answer is no. If you’re a flavor enthusiast who wants every drop of deliciousness, skipping the rinse is the way to go.
Whether you’re Team Rinse or Team No-Rinse, the most important thing is to enjoy the process of creating mouthwatering meals. In the end, the choice is yours.
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