For years, I endured hurtful comments from my husband about my plump figure. Food became my refuge, a way to cope with the growing distance in our troubled marriage. But one day, his cruel jokes crossed a line—he compared me to a slim, beautiful woman in front of everyone. That moment was a turning point. I decided it was time to take control of my life. The struggles with my weight had been ongoing for years. No matter what I tried, the extra pounds clung to me like a second skin. My dream of becoming a skilled pastry chef remained, but it came with a price. The kitchen, my sanctuary, was also where I indulged, tasting every creation, and with each bite, the weight piled on.
Everything changed at an event I was catering for the first time as a chef. This was my moment, a dream I had worked toward for months. My husband attended, not to support me, but to be near a slim, attractive woman named Elise. His attention on her, and the hurtful comments comparing us, shattered what little confidence I had left. It was then that I met Rowan, who noticed me for who I was, not just for my flaws. He offered me an opportunity to create a dessert menu for his restaurant, a chance that reignited a long-lost resolve within me.
Determined to prove myself, I dove into the task with renewed energy. I created a strict schedule, not just for baking, but also for improving my health. Mornings began with runs, and I exercised at home, building strength and confidence. My husband, meanwhile, continued his snide remarks, oblivious to the fire he had ignited within me.
The day of the competition arrived, and despite my nerves, I gave it my all. Surrounded by seasoned professionals, I felt out of place, but I pushed through. Seeing Elise, my husband’s mistress, was almost too much to bear. But when Rowan appeared and challenged me to rise to the occasion, I found the strength I needed.
To my disbelief, I won the competition, securing the contract and, unexpectedly, a chance to study in Paris. When I broke the news to my husband, he was furious, demanding that I give up this “nonsense” and return to the life he had controlled for so long. But Rowan, who had seen my transformation, stepped in, expressing his admiration and love for me.
In that moment, I found my voice. I told my husband I wanted a divorce, freeing myself from his shadow. Rowan offered me not just a bouquet, but a new life—a position in Paris where I could continue my journey. With happiness washing over me, I knew the world was offering me a fresh start, filled with love, creativity, and the freedom to be myself.
