My husband forced me to bake a pie every day, Then he would change something and make me eat it. One day, I handed the slice back and told him to take a bite… He refused, and I froze in fear
My husband forced me to bake a pie every day, Then he would change something and make me eat it. One day, I handed
the slice back and told him to take a bite… He refused, and I froze in fear 
When I married my husband, Victor, everyone warned me that he was a strange man.
He rarely spoke, almost never smiled, and hated it when people came to our house without warning. But he had always
been caring toward me. Whenever I was sick, he would sit beside me all night. When I came home exhausted from work, he
would quietly make me tea. I thought his reserved personality was simply the result of a difficult childhood. But about a year
after we got married, he began behaving very strangely. It all started on a Monday morning. Victor placed an old, worn recipe
book on the table and said,
“Starting today, you’re going to bake this pie every morning.”
“Every morning?” I laughed. “Why?”
He didn’t laugh.
“Just make it. It’s important.”
The book contained an ordinary apple pie recipe. There was nothing unusual about it—flour, butter, eggs, apples, and
cinnamon. On the first day, I made it without asking any more questions. When I took the pie out of the oven, Victor asked
me to leave the kitchen for a few minutes.
“Why?”Next Page →
