Chapter 3
Edward Quan ·
9
That evening, I had barely cleaned and dressed my wrist when someone knocked.
I opened the door to a strong smell of alcohol.
Tieu Tri stood there, tall and straight in his immaculate suit. The corridor light caught him, making him look almost dazzling—and utterly out of place in the shabby old apartment block.
I stared for a moment.
“What are you doing here?”
His voice was low and cold.
“I’m not here for you. I’m here for your husband.”
Before I could answer, he stepped inside and looked around.
His brow tightened.
“Where is he?”
“Working late,” I murmured.
“Call him. Tell him to come home.”
He sat down, breathing heavily.
Where was I supposed to find a husband to produce for him?
And the last thing I wanted was to sit with the man I had loved while I looked like this.
I clenched my hands.
“What do you want with him? If it’s the repair money, I’ll transfer it now. Otherwise, please leave.
“You have a fiancée. I have a husband. We aren’t people who can sit down for a quiet chat anymore.”
I opened the door.
Tieu Tri crossed the room and slammed it shut.
His eyes blazed.
“What do I want? You’re still defending him?
“I want to ask that wonderful husband of yours whether he has any shame. Sending his wife out to earn money when she’s this pregnant!”
He tugged his collar loose, planted a hand on his hip and paced.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to use your looks to marry someone better off? This is the man you chose?
“How long have we been apart, and you’re already carrying his child?
“Were you that desperate for a man?”
The words cut through me.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe or think.
Then anger and humiliation surged up together.
I slapped him.
The crack turned his face aside.
My hand remained in the air, trembling.
I had never thought I would strike the only person who had truly loved me.
Nor had I imagined he would say such cruel things to me.
When he turned back, pain and regret filled his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Ky Hoa.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
He pulled me into his arms, holding my shoulders tight.
I tried to break free and couldn’t.
He buried his face against my neck and kept apologizing, his hoarse voice repeating the words until they broke my heart.
10
Tieu Tri fell asleep in my arms.
It took me a long time to get him onto the bed.
I sat beside him and studied his sleeping face.
He had lost weight.
He was thinner even than five months ago, his features harder and sharper.
I preferred the Tieu Tri I used to know.
The man asleep before me no longer belonged to me.
His phone rang again and again.
Tham Tri Y, every time.
I couldn’t answer.
I couldn’t let him stay either.
It had taken everything I had to bring us to this quiet separation.
After a long hesitation, I called his mother.
She arrived quickly with people to help her and had him taken out.
Before leaving, she looked at my belly.
I was thin, so my bump was smaller than other women’s at the same stage. It was hard to tell just by looking that I was seven months pregnant.
She was silent for a while.
“Have you been managing? If you need money, tell me. Don’t go to Tieu Tri.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t seek him out.”
She nodded.
“Why is he asleep like this?”
“He must have had a lot to drink before he came.”
She hesitated.
“Nothing… else happened?”
I stiffened, offended, and rested a hand on my belly.
“I’m pregnant. What do you think could have happened?”
She waved a hand quickly.
“Don’t misunderstand. It’s just that he hasn’t been sleeping well lately. I was only asking.”
She patted my shoulder, courteous but distant.
“You handled this well. But if he comes again, I advise you not to open the door.
“The Tham girl is jealous and narrow-minded. She isn’t someone who will overlook things.”
Her eyes returned to my belly.
“Take care of yourself.”
After they left, I dreamed of Tieu Tri again.
Only this time, Tham Tri Y was there too.
He and I were laughing together in our old room when she opened the door.
She was crying.
She asked why he had betrayed her, then turned on me, calling me a homewrecker.
A cheap woman.
I woke drenched in cold sweat.
Mistress. Homewrecker.
Those words had followed me since childhood.
My mother had been the other woman.
She was always complaining that Heaven had given her beauty but not a good family.
When I was three, she began an affair with a small-business owner.
The day his wife came to confront her, I could only scream and cry as the woman tore her clothes, pulled her hair, spat at her and called her a seductress.
Dad knew about it.
He couldn’t bring himself to divorce her.
He still wanted her beauty, even as he despised her betrayal.
“Cheap.” “Used-up.”
I heard those words almost every day.
They clung to each other in hatred.
Neither had anything left for me, the daughter nobody loved or thought about.
Perhaps growing up like that had taught me to remain calm.
I wasn’t easily delighted.
I wasn’t easily hurt.
Only Tieu Tri had disturbed that still water inside me.
He had been different from the other boys in our class.
He never stared at my body. Never asked with a smirk whether my mother was a mistress.
He always smelled clean and pleasant.
When our eyes met, he simply smiled.
Close enough to be friendly.
Never intruding.
I sat against the headboard for a long time.
Perhaps I should move.
My lease wasn’t up. I probably wouldn’t get the deposit back.
The landlady sounded sorry.
“I’ve really liked having you here, dear. You keep the place so clean. What if I lower the rent? Would you stay?”
I considered it, then shook my head.
I knew Tieu Tri.
Now that he knew where I lived, he would come again.
I didn’t want him to find out that I wasn’t married.
Or that the baby was his.
If he knew, everything would begin again.
A few days later, my belongings were packed.
The person who knocked was Tham Tri Y.
She wore an ivory dress, her hair softly curled.
Her voice was as polite and composed as ever.
“Miss Ky, may I speak with you?”
11
The door closed, leaving the two of us alone in the little room.
She glanced around at the luggage on the floor.
“Moving, Miss Ky?”
I nodded.
She gave a soft laugh.
“You must know that if Tieu Tri really wants to find you, it won’t matter where you hide.
“If you truly want him to give up, get married.”
I looked up in surprise.
She sat down on the sofa and took a document envelope from her bag.
“This is Tu Triet Hao’s file. The man who knocked you down the other day.
“Have a look. His circumstances are very good. He’s quite… suitable for you.”
She paused, smiling gently.
Her quiet words were sharp.
“More than good enough.”
The smile looked as gracious as ever. Away from Tieu Tri, though, it seemed like a cold mask.
I left the envelope unopened.
She went on.
“Mr Tu is thirty. Divorced, no children. He’s local, owns his home and has a car.
“Oh, and he’s infertile. He won’t mind that you’re having a baby.”
I couldn’t listen anymore.
I threw the envelope onto the table.
“What are you afraid of, Miss Tham? You and I hardly inhabit the same world.
“Are you so unsure of yourself that you think a pregnant woman like me could steal Tieu Tri?”
Her smile faltered.
Instead of answering, she took a bank card from her handbag and set it firmly on the coffee table.
“One million.
“Unless I’m mistaken, you need money. You don’t want him fighting his family over you again, do you?
“Take it. Do what you need to do.”
She was right.
I needed money.
Five months earlier, I would probably have thrown the card back and preserved the last of my pride.
Now, I looked down at the baby growing inside me.
I could endure hardship.
My child shouldn’t have to.
I drew a breath and held out my hand.
“Five million.
“I’m not getting married. But I’ll play the part for you.
“Afterward, I’ll leave this city. You won’t have to worry about me again.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
Contempt showed in her eyes.
“You certainly know an opportunity when you see one.”
She rose, brushing her dress as though some dust had settled on it.
“I’ll transfer the money tonight. You and Mr Tu had better get to know each other. Don’t let Tieu Tri spot any inconsistencies.”
Then she left.
That evening, the money arrived as promised.
They paid. I solved their problem.
It seemed the fairest arrangement there was.
After thinking it over, I added Tu Triet Hao on WeChat.
Tham Tri Y must have paid him already. He understood his role even better than I did.
We met a few times and exchanged the basic details of our lives.
He was of average height, with decent, respectable features. In a suit, he looked serious and capable.
I had once told Tieu Tri what I wanted in a husband: someone local, from a harmonious family, with a decent character and ordinary good looks.
Tu Triet Hao seemed to meet every requirement.
Perhaps that was why Tieu Tri had mistaken him for my husband.
A few days later, he and I went to Tieu Tri’s company.