Hello I'm writer Hellspawned in Thailand.
Notice to readers:
I'm unable to sell my book directly on this app. However, an e-book version is available for purchase in Thailand through the Meb Market website, a popular online bookstore in Thailand. You can find it there and enjoy reading!
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"Ugh… headache." The stubborn one groaned, and I walked over with a glass of water. Today I'd actually gone into the kitchen to cook for this wife of mine just a simple minced pork rice porridge. Normally, I never make meals for the wife; my expertise is Isaan food, which she won't touch anyway.
"Fia… wake up and eat some porridge so you can take your medicine."
The stubborn one squirmed, trying to sit up but still swaying, leaning back against the sofa. After I'd wiped the body clean and helped put on some pants, the light-colored eyelids fluttered open to glance at their husband—just a look and the face scrunched up, baring teeth like a little dog.
"Wh-why'd you come back?" Waking up and greeting me with that sweet, teasing tone—this really is my wife.
"Sorry about Friday," I said, kneeling on the floor, rubbing and massaging the legs. Even as there was a little shake, I held on, pressing my face close and sending those pleading, playful eyes I always did.
"Go wherever you want." This time, it looked like Fia was sulking. Sulking properly. Like never before has this wife seen her husband brave enough, and now here I am, kneeling, holding the legs, coaxing.
"I don't want to go anywhere… I want to stay with myself."
"You're full of it. Mouth says love me, do whatever I want, and yet you said you'd divorce me." My eyes went wide as goose eggs—because I never said anything about divorcing! I just went to talk with my brother and mom, and somehow Fia found out.
"How did you even know? I never once said I wanted a divorce to your face."
"Well, that clever little brother of yours… he came to tease me, saying you can't even handle one husband, and you let your dad and ex bring you to the point of talking divorce."
"Oh… Woon. Uh… I'm sorry… You can slap me hard if you want, I'm mouthy too. That day I was tired from work, and then I saw my ex looking adorable, and my dad was cheering them to get back together. I overthought it, so…"
"Divorce?" Fia shot back instantly, face scrunched up to a hundred, not giving me even a second to score points.
"No, I'm not divorcing. I want to stay with my wife, I'm sorry," I lunged forward, hugging that thick waist, burying my face into the lap—hoping Fia would soften like always.
"You've never been happy with me, have you?" When Fia pulls the drama card, it's maximum stubborn mode.
"I am… I've never been happier in my life," I admitted. "It just… happened that I compared myself to that other person, your ex. Felt insecure for a moment, then I yelled at them and completely lost it." Being rich does have its perks—so damn fragrant.
"I thought you'd be the only one by my side. You're from the countryside; you'd handle it if I was harsh with words. You'd eat my cooking for the rest of your life. But it seems you didn't want that. You didn't want the married life I dreamt of. Honestly, you could have rejected me from the start. But you married me thinking life would be comfortable, right?"
Fia spoke at length, in the same tone the entire time. For the first time, talking seriously about us, about what's really on Fia's mind, making me tense, scared it might lead to a divorce.
"Yes… that's right," I answered softly, admitting the truth, not daring to meet those eyes.
"Because it's not what you expected, you feel trapped and don't want to stay, right?" Fia continued, resting the head on the sofa back.
"Well…"
"I'll tell you one thing. I didn't marry Uang-Ing because I don't like flashy people. I don't like how Uang-Ing takes forever to get ready, leaves things out of place, won't listen, insists on doing things their way, swears a lot, won't eat what I cook, always goes to fancy restaurants just to check in and brag to friends, drags me to social events for networking, wants me to socialize even though I like staying home. I can't get along with Uang-Ing, we're incompatible. I chose you because you're ordinary… you understand, right?"
Fia went off, laying out every reason every single thing I'd secretly wanted to hear.
For the first time, I finally understood what had been in his head.
Why he didn't marry his ex.
Why he preferred staying home.
But the part about him liking ordinary people that one was new to me, and it made me grin like an idiot who couldn't stop smiling.
"I understand now," I said, already giving in since the moment I stepped through the door.
Turns out I really am the submissive husband here—kneeling on the floor, hugging my drunk husband's thick waist, whining like a fool.
"I'll let you decide," he said. "Say it. Divorce or not. Whatever you want—I'll give you this chance only once. There won't be a second. If you want freedom, choose divorce and we're done. But if you don't, you'll stay with me with all my shitty personality intact."
Then His Highness handed me my options.
Good. Better to settle this once and for all.
"I want a new husband," I replied pure provocation.
"Yeah? Do whatever you want then!"
He probably wanted to yell in my face and bite my head off, but he was too drunk—sprawled across the sofa looking pitiful.
Didn't stop me from laughing though.
"I want a new husband… who actually faces me. Who can talk about everything. Someone I can share burdens and happiness with. Someone who's willing to adjust with me.
…I'm not divorcing you."
"What the hell are you even saying? I don't get it!"
"We're a married couple. A marriage isn't about one person suffering alone. If we love each other enough, we meet halfway—that's what a real partnership is."
I couldn't even look him in the eye, but I said what I truly felt.
He fell silent.
Like he was waiting waiting for something I'd forgotten to say.
"Can I ask you something?" I whispered. "Do you…love me?"
Beer my idiot husband wasn't someone who said 'I love you' easily.
Hell, that phrase probably didn't even exist in his dictionary.
But I still wanted to ask.
"I…" he started.
"I love you, Fia."
Maybe he didn't love me back yet.
But that didn't matter I wanted him to hear it first.
First one to say it gets the advantage, and I'd just bug him every day until he gives in.
"…You love me?" he asked quietly.
"I do. I love you. I don't even know when it started, but right now I love you so damn much.
I used to think we'd never work out. I even wondered if divorcing was better.
But my head is full of you nothing but you. I can't stop thinking about you.
Even if your mouth is harsh sometimes, I still love you the most.
It's okay if you don't love me yet I just want to stay with you.
I'll eat anything you cook, I'll pay more attention to you, I'll stay by your side and never leave.
Let's not divorce."
Today was the final boss fight the legendary battle of husband vs. husband.
I deserved the Best Husband Award for this.
"…I love you," he said.
I sat frozen, eyes wide, as if I'd forgotten how to breathe. Hearing the words "I love you" from my handsome husband—someone I never thought would ever say it—felt like pure bliss. He's always been so serious, not the type to joke around. Feeling loved by someone so stoic was like floating straight to heaven.
"What did you say?" I managed to gasp.
"I've loved you from the start. I don't know why, but your ordinary self makes me unable to look away. I thought a casual line after we… you know… would make a simple person like you agree to marry me. All this time, you've been the one I wanted to be with. If you love me, stop comparing yourself to anyone else. Stop listening to my dad. Stop caring about my ex. You only need to care about me."
It was kind of like a man confessing he'd fallen head over heels—it's not classically romantic, but that's his style, and it's adorable.
"Okay. I'll do everything. Try the rice porridge I made. You need to eat your medicine—you've been drinking too much. Go rest already… in the fridge? How could you even…? If you got sick, what would I do~"
"Shut up, you're annoying, I'm dizzy!"
"Okay~"