The pasta is a bit too chewy for my taste, but I still thought it was pretty good.

I never thought that my wife would be the type to cheat on me, but I guess I was wrong. I came home early from work one day and found her in our kitchen, wearing nothing but an apron and cooking up a storm. But it wasn't just any old meal she was preparing - it was a feast of pasta, garlic bread and wine, all for her and her lover. I stood there in shock as I watched her cook and chat away happily, completely unaware of my presence. It was only when I cleared my throat that she finally noticed me. The look of guilt on her face was all the confirmation I needed. I asked her who he was, but she refused to tell me. It didn't matter though, because I already knew. He was the man who had been coming into our home for "business meetings" while I was at work. The man who my wife had been spending more and more time with, while I was left feeling like a third wheel in my own marriage. The man who she was now cooking pasta for, right in front of me. I couldn't take it anymore. I turned and walked out of the kitchen, out of our home and out of her life. I never looked back.

We thought we could outsmart them, but we were wrong. The noodles are always one step ahead of us. They know our every move before we make it. We can't escape their watchful gaze.