Not appealing at all.”
She frowns slightly but shrugs and starts eating her breakfast alone, thinking maybe lunchtime will be different. Sure enough, when noon rolls around, she sets a bowl of homemade soup in front of him and lays out some freshly baked muffins and a cheese sandwich. “How about some soup, a muffin, or a cheese sandwich?” she asks, trying a gentler tone, hoping he’ll eat something.
He shakes his head, a bit embarrassed. “No thanks,” he says. “I think it’s the Viagra again.
I haven’t felt hungry all day. My appetite’s just… gone. It’s like it’s completely ruined the idea of eating.”
Finally, night falls, and she’s bustling in the kitchen, preparing a feast.
A juicy rib-eye steak sizzles on the pan, a homemade apple pie cools on the counter, and there’s even a rotisserie chicken roasting in the oven. Aromas of stir-fried vegetables fill the air. She leans over and asks, “Would you like a juicy rib-eye steak with some apple pie for dessert?
Or maybe some rotisserie chicken? I even made stir fry tonight!”
He shakes his head once more, looking slightly guilty. “No,” he says, with a resigned sigh.
“It’s still the Viagra. My appetite is completely gone. I really can’t eat anything.”
Her patience finally snaps.
She throws down the spatula and points a finger at him. “Well, if it’s the Viagra keeping you from eating, then would you mind getting off me? Because I am bloody starving over here!”
