I stepped out of the fancy condo without glancing at the person who was fuming inside. No yelling, no slaps, nothing like back when things were good between us just standing there, trembling, fists clenched, letting me walk out like it was nothing. I didn't expect it to be this easy, not after countless times I'd thought about walking out of their life.
For the past nine months, you could say I'd gotten attached to this place a towering, luxurious condo, convenient, spacious, cleaner and fresher than that rat-hole rental I used to pay five grand a month for. But maybe comfort is a matter of perspective…
I left without taking a thing except my wallet and phone. I don't know why, but this time I was rebellious against my spouse, after always giving in. Not that it ever was cute they've been good at the icy, "don't care about the world" look since day one.
We'd never really talked about real-life problems. All our conversations were about food, movies, dogs, cats, or some random nonsense. Sometimes I wondered if this was just a temporary role I played an accessory for a spoiled rich kid. If they got bored, maybe they'd walk away. But… almost a year has passed, and here we still are.
Is it bad…?
I don't know, maybe it depends on how you look at it. I just feel a bit drained too much responsibility, both for the family and work, all piling up too fast for me to keep up. And now, with the ex coming back, my spouse comparing things… I feel so small, I can't even keep my face straight.
Completely confused. Normally I'm not overthinking, maybe it's because I've been working too much, or because the ex is back, or maybe because I actually started taking this relationship seriously.
I wonder if my stubborn, high-society spouse even loves me…
"Whoa, Wai, why are you showing up this late? I thought you'd come tomorrow," said Woon, my 25-year-old brother, sitting in his room, playing games instead of sleeping. He noticed immediately as I stuck my head in since I had to crash in his room tonight.
"I've got a little problem with the spouse. Might look for work around here, so probably won't go back to the spouse's company… thinking of divorcing," I muttered to Woon, then went to wash my hands and feet in the bathroom habit from living with a clean freak and then sat on the bed.
"What? That fancy little high-society one's actually going to divorce you?" Woon paused his game, spun his chair, and looked at me, sitting there with my head in my hands, tense.
"Don't know. No complaints from them," I muttered.
Talking about the spouse, I wondered: alone, do they smoke a lot? Drink too much at night? Do they like being held from behind while sleeping, or do they flinch? All I can think about is them.
"Was it a big fight? What happened?" Woon asked.
"Nothing, I'm just tired… and the ex is back. Looks like their parent favors them more than me. I can't do anything right. I probably shouldn't even try running the company better let them handle that. After all, their side owns a real estate company, and my father's in construction, top-tier stuff."
"Ah~ feeling neglected by the in-laws, feeling hurt over the spouse. I don't think your spouse would ever leave you; if they were going to, it would have happened long ago."
"Woon, what do you think I have going for me? How did someone like me end up as the husband of a company owner's child? I've been the laziest in the company, and yet they picked me—I just don't get it."
"I don't know what your spouse sees in you. From where I'm standing, you're simple, trusting, honest, a good listener, and comforting. You don't show off, you don't flaunt the son-in-law status, and you don't act full of yourself. I think that makes you cool."
I had no idea my little brother saw me as a hero, romantic, a genuinely good person, when I've been thinking of myself as a total screw-up all along.
"I think they don't really like me. They just used me as a guard dog. They've told me before."
"If they said you were just a guard dog, that means they didn't want to marry the ex."
"Yeah… maybe. I don't know if they're just sulking or what. But if it's just sulking and I'm the only one falling in deep, then I still hurt. Should I just let them stay in the same company so they can help their parent work?"
"Do you really love Fea that much?"
Wun, my younger brother whom I usually think of as just a kid—asked this short question, and it made me freeze, forgetting how to even answer for a moment. It felt like I was the one who hadn't grown up. The question echoed in my head, over and over: Do I love him? Do I love my spouse? Do I love him that much? Was that the very thought that had been running through my mind all this time, the expectation that he would be the person I hoped for, not just as he is?
"I don't…"
"We've been together for nine months now."
"…I…"
"You should have talked it out before coming out here. That's your spouse, not just a boyfriend—you'd have sorted things, avoided fights, and gone your separate ways."
"…"
"Let's just sleep. Tomorrow we can figure out what to do next."
.
.