In January 2011 my partner of nine years and I were just finishing up dinner, a chipotle chicken chowder adapted from a Cooking Light recipe. It’s a soup I had made many times before because I loved its spice, smoky flavor, and creaminess. On a cold winter’s night like that one, it was like an extended hug in a bowl.
As I scraped the last remnants of the dish, we started talking about our relationship. I was thinking ahead to what we could do for Valentine’s Day — possibly a getaway to a romantic bed and breakfast nearby?
My ex had a different idea: “I’ve been thinking about things and … it’s over.”