Sometime later...

Jude's POV

When I reborned back at home as I had 2 more hours until work, I kicked off my pumps, going upstairs to change my current clothing in the bedroom.

Once I arrived in the bedroom as the sun ryas illuminated our love nest with the pulled back curtains, I opened the wooden wardrobe, picking up the casual garments that I wear either every day or a couple of times a week.

As I took off my shirt and trousers including ny jewelleries, I put on my half naked body a pair of plaon denim jeans, a scarlet red tank top with with V neckline and my slippers on my feet.

As soon as I changed, I put the worn clothes in the washing machine as I adjusted the program in the bathroom.

Afterward I descended the stairs as I headed to the kitchen, sipping in a seperate, clean glass with some fresh, cool water. What I have decided to do is actually to bake a traditional apple pie which is going to take almost an hour for basic preparation!

I just cannot recall the last time when I had chewed a bite of an apple pie. It is among one of my favorite baked sweets, admitting it frankly. Every time when I remind myself of this appetizing thing, I betrayed myself, my scarcely opened mouth slobbered as colorless salivas, oozing from my mouth. The last time when I had tasted from this scrumptious baked sweet was actually a long-long time ago. Perhaps my late teen years when me and my mother baked along just a several months before her decease.

As these abundant thoughts swam in my mind like waves in a bellowing, invincible sea where a single sailor with its compact, modest boat won't survive the storm, I cut off myself from those thoughts as I opened the refrigerator, delving for the required ingredients for the apple pie.

Subsequently they were found as I closed the fridge, starting to prepare as I checked the cooking book, pursuing each step properly, rendering the ideal one.

When I put the apple pie to bake in the oven, I sipped a handful sips of my water as I wioped my perspiring forehead with my bare forearm as my cream flesh of my forearm rubbed against my temple. Little did I know what to do recently especially when I am obligated to pend. I couldn't be that patient anymore.

Moreover I was to some extent, quite precarious due to the fact that my bare hands hadn't baked anything that sweet and mouthwatering. As an addition,  what is going to be my partner's perception? Is he going to like it?

Those cardinal 2 questions spinned around my mind as my mind was the universe itself.

As a distraction and purification for my mind of negative thoughts, I went in the living room, turning on the TV, watching the afternoon news. On the news broadcasted something that had to do with the facility where I and my husband used to run not a long time ago.

For the last months since Briarcliff's prominent Monsignor Timothy Howard resigned from the church, the institution hadn't found a new  monsignor yet. Additionally, the conditions inside the mental facility are worse. As a result to the poverty and sinister misery, more unusual things are happening lately such as more birth rates among inmates'  who were either sexually assaulted or consented in an intimate act, more patients either commiting suicide or  passing away due to variety of reasons and so forth for listing. Briarcliff Manor cannot provide the best for each inmate, unfortunately. 

After I heard what the reporter said about this snake pit, besides mentioning fluently my husband's name, I got goose bumps as my epidermis bristled. The good thing is they hadn't stated more information, related with him or something about me, at least. Phew! I am already relieved. 

Thereafter I returned back at the kitchen as I checked the oven, looking after the apple pie

Around a couple of hours later...

Timothy's POV

When I got back at home, closing the door behind me as I kicked my shoes off, all of a sudden something an unusual but gratifying scent of apple pie came from the kitchen, fueling my nostrils with its redolent fragrance.

Once I headed directly to the kitchen, checking where is the recent location of the apple pie, I found it in the oven, slightly less warmer than a handful hours ago. And upon the kitchen plot there was a brief note as I grabbed it, subsequently reading it as my eyes were focused on every word in the letter:

Sweetheart, I made and baked an apple pie for both of us, despite I won't eat a lot. I made it specially for you! I hope you like and enjoy it!

With lots of love 

Your wife Jude

Hugs and Kisses

As soon as I finished reading the note, I took the tray with circle apple pie as I took a fork and a knife, pared the sole part of the apple pie which I am going to eat, consequently placing it in a seperate plate, serving on the table as I sat down, starting to taste it. 

To be continued...