After Divorcing my Captain Husband (Chloe and Michael)

Chloe remembered the one time Michael had tried washing dishes during their three years of marriage.

It was at Shawn Manor, and they'd been in the middle of a heated argument. She couldn't even recall what it was about. What stuck with her was that he had been downright rude, even in front of Admas. Seeing this, Admas had insisted Michael do the dishes. Within minutes, the kitchen was filled with the sounds of smashing dishes. When Chloe went to check, she saw him breaking more than one plate.

At first, she thought he was deliberately making a mess, but it quickly became clear that he genuinely didn't know how to handle washing up.

He'd put on gloves to avoid getting dish soap on his hands, but the gloves made everything slippery, and the dishes were slipping out of his grasp.NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

If it hadn't been for the surplus of dishes at Shawn Manor, Admas might have had to eat without any plates the next day.

After that fiasco, Michael had never been asked to wash dishes again.

Even though she knew he wasn't particularly concerned about breaking things, just hearing the clatter was hard for her to endure.

So, with no housekeeper around now, she figured she'd better offer to do the dishes herself rather than risk another disaster.

"I've got this," Michael said, blocking her way to the kitchen.

His insistence sounded almost touching, but Chloe wasn't convinced.

He might manage scrambled eggs, but she doubted he could handle washing dishes.

The more he resisted, the more suspicious she became. "Are you hiding something from me?"

She stood there, staring him down.

"I'm not."

"Then move aside. I want to see for myself."

"No, I don't want you in the kitchen."

His concern seemed almost sweet, but Chloe's instincts told her something was off.

Finally, she raised her hands in mock surrender. "Fine, I'll stay out. Go ahead and wash dishes."

After saying that, Chloe handed him the plate and turned to head back to the sofa.

Michael, relieved that she wasn't going to push the issue, started to grab his own plate from the table. But before he could move, Chloe suddenly spun around, dashed to the kitchen, and yanked open the door. Smoke poured out, and the kitchen looked like a disaster zone.

Michael's heart dropped. He was too late to stop her from seeing the chaos.

Chloe took in the charred pot and the trash can filled with what looked like blackened scrambled eggs.

Then she spotted something particularly glaring.

She picked up a takeout bag, eyeing the label with a raised eyebrow.

"So, you ordered takeout?"

Michael's face reddened, and he looked everywhere but at her.

Chloe couldn't help but laugh despite her frustration.

She was surprised to find out that the scrambled eggs were actually takeout he'd ordered.

He held two plates awkwardly, clearly embarrassed. "I just didn't want you to think I was completely hopeless."

He'd nearly wrecked the kitchen while she was asleep.

Back home, when he'd cooked, he'd always had help. He thought he could manage on his own, but today's attempt had been a total disaster.

If Chloe hadn't been sleeping so deeply, she might have noticed the smoke.

Even the neighbors were starting to worry about a potential fire.

Seeing the mess, Chloe patted him on the shoulder and teased, "Next time, try a different place. This takeout isn't exactly top-notch."

She had thought she'd need to give him some credit for cooking, but now that she realized he'd just ordered the food, she decided to tease him about it.