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It’s not the first time I’ve followed Kongpob.
Wait, that sounds awful. I don’t follow him like some kind of private investigator who wants to know all his secrets. I promise, I don’t.
I follow him because, for all that he wears his heart on his sleeve, there are times that I know he is holding back. Times when he thinks that I’m too delicate, too impatient or too embarrassed to hear his words.
I’m not. But I am a bad communicator, which Kongpob knows. He knows that I need his help to get the words out.
But lately, he’s not been teasing them forward, he hasn’t been encouraging me to share, has seemed distracted, and it’s frustrating. Because I don’t know why.
When we reach the mall, Kongpob a good ten lengths down the pavement from me, a gaggle of school girls in their pristine uniforms separating us, he heads straight for the grocery store as he had told me he would.
Inside, I stay away, but discreetly eye him from a distance as he picks up items I know he will turn into something tasty later on at home. He’s easy in the aisles, he knows his way around and his basket is quickly filling up.
And while he doesn’t notice me, he also doesn’t notice some of the lusty looks that other shoppers are giving him.
I’m almost tempted to go over and ‘claim’ him down the vegetable aisle when seven different women find a reason to slink into his path, some even speaking to him and asking him to check their peaches and pears for bruises. It’s frustrating that my boyfriend is so kind and attentive even to strangers.
I know he’s attractive, heck, he’s more than that. He’s downright sexy, especially with his soft fringe parted in the middle and falling into his eyes, his glasses perched on his nose, and his pale lemon cardigan buttoned to his middle. He’s a walking wet dream if I’m honest.
And he’s mine.
Shame those predators don’t know it.
But it’s not til he’s in the spice aisle that I really want to get involved. There’s another young man there looking at different packets and jars. And as Kongpob goes by, doing nothing out of the ordinary, I see his hungry gaze follow my boyfriend.
That is not okay.
Especially when the man looks around them briefly before he makes a strangled noise, catching Kong’s attention.
“Are you okay?” Kongpob asks in a soft voice, and I want to yell that the other guy is a charlatan and Kongpob should run away and not waste his time.
But I don’t. Because, actually, I don't suppose I’ve ever really seen how Kongpob reacts to being flirted with by other men. If it’s ever happened, he’s always kept it secret from me.
So, even though it pains me, I stay back and let it play out in front of me.
“Oh, I just twisted my hip trying to reach up there, don’t suppose you can help?” Then the man turns a blinding smile on my man, who offers only a tiny one back as he surveys the shelf.
“Which one?” He asks, calmly and the other man takes the moment of his distraction to get a better eyeful, up close.
“The cinnamon please.”
Clever, I think. The cinnamon is on the highest shelf, requiring Kongpob to lean towards the man as well as stretch the most.
My fingers curl into fists at my side as I observe, but I needn’t have bothered getting anxious (okay, angry), because Kongpob takes another look at the shelf and then points down the aisle.
“I think, this is too high for me. Perhaps you can use the steps from over there. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, but I’m in rather a hurry.”
Then Kongpob ignores the man’s disappointed look and steps away to grab a random spice from the shelf, dropping it into his basket.
“Well, maybe you can’t help reach the cinnamon,” The guy says, stepping over to Kong again and trying his luck further, “But maybe you’d be interested in trying the pancakes I’m going to make with it?”
Kongpob’s eyes widen and I see that he’s realised that this guy is flirting, finally.
Then he holds up his hand, “I’m married, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Oh, I’m sure she doesn’t need to know that you tried something new out, variety is the spice of life after all.”
I really want to punch this guy, and am thinking about just outing myself and heading down the aisle to have the pleasure of sinking my fist into his smug smile, when Kongpob laughs lightly, “I don’t think my husband would like to hear you say that.”
The man’s shock is clear. As is Kongpob’s disdain. He looks like he did in first year whenever anyone mentioned him making me his wife after we were already together.
I have to scramble out of the way in fact, as he marches away at a quick pace, shaking his head.
Oh my lovely man, he’s very good at getting rid of predators it seems.
Although, I have to reconsider when I follow him out of the grocery store, expecting him to head straight home, and instead he drops into one of the small cafes that litter the mall.
He goes straight to a table in the window, and I have to sneak in after him and take a table a few feet down, hidden away a little at the side.
I’m surprised he’s here. Normally he would have let me know if he was planning to go somewhere like this, and offer to bring back pink milk for me.
But when I check my phone (on silent mode of course) there’s nothing from Kongpob. So, I decide to make a bold mood.
What you doing? Thought you were grocery shopping but you’ve been gone a while. I’m hungry and I want pink milk.
It’s a pretty standard text for me, and I smile as he grins when he reads it.
But then, he doesn’t reply. He leaves me on read.
Huh? He’s never done that, even when he’s angry at me he answers my texts. What is going on?
The reason for his neglect comes bustling into the cafe a moment later, carrying dozens of shopping bags.
My mother?
He stands to greet her politely, but she ignores it, dropping all her bags into the booth and sweeping him into her arms.
“My Kong!” She grins and kisses his cheeks.
He smiles and then directs her to sit, offering her the menu.
They seem to make small talk while they wait for their order to come, but as soon as their drinks are on the table, my mother leans in close and their conversation gets serious.
It’s irritating that I can’t hear anything. I can’t even risk moving from my seat since I would have to walk right past them and I rue the second I followed Kongpob into this cafe.
Why was I following my amazing, handsome, loving, sweet boyfriend, who ignores when women hit on him and rebuffs men who try it on? I trust him. Completely and utterly without reserve.
So why am I here intruding on his date… with my mother?
They seem to spend a long time in deep discussion, before my mother leaps to her feet and moves to Kongpob’s side of the booth to hug him again.
If she wasn’t my own flesh and blood, I might have needed to intervene.
But she’s my Mae and she loves us both, has loved Kongpob since the second I introduced them and often begs me to bring him home with me.
Eventually, the conversation seems to wind down and my mother finishes her drink and tries to pay the bill. But Kongpob, ever the gentleman refuses, instead, I clearly here the words ‘pink milk’ and then my mother is gathering Kong back in her arms (for the third time, not that I’m counting, but I haven’t even had one hug today) and then she’s gathering her bags and heading out of the cafe with a final call of goodbye.
If I wasn’t so confused, I’d find their relationship sweet.
When the pink milk arrives, in a to go cup, Kongpob slides some notes on the tray for the bill and thanks the server, then he picks up his shopping and heads out of the cafe.
As he heads down the mall, my phone pings and I scramble to see what he’s replied to me.
But it’s not him, it’s my mother.
I hope you have a very delicious, special dinner tonight, my darling Oon. I expect you as early as humanly possible tomorrow. Mae x
Huh? I have seriously never been more confused in my life. I’m not due at my mother’s tomorrow? Am I? I’m sure Kongpob had mentioned seeing some kind of horror film at some art house cinema in the city.
Maybe she’s confused, we are supposed to go next weekend after all. Or maybe Kongpob’s changed the plans when they met just now and she assumes he’s already told me.
I’m about to reply, when my phone pings again and this time it is Kongpob.
On my way. I’ve got pink milk. Love you <3
Reading his message, I remember that I’m not where he thinks I am. So I quickly pay my bill and dash out of the nearest exit, leaping onto a motorbike taxi and telling the driver he can have double if he’s quick.
I make it home only a few moments before my love rides up.
“Oh, you didn’t need to come help me, P’Arthit.” He grins.
My heart is beating so fast, that I don’t risk relying, instead I do something rare, I lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, enjoying the way his eyes widen at the touch.
What he doesn’t know is that the kiss is a thank you for putting that horrid flirting man in his place earlier on.
We share out the bags and head to our apartment, helping each other to locate the new groceries amongst the old. And then Kongpob turns to say he’s going to shower, but I can’t let him.
I can’t let him go without finding out why on earth he had been with my Mae.
So it all comes blurting out. Much to his amusement.
His eyes are shining as I admit to following him, he smirks when I tell him I got angry about the women in the veg aisle, he reaches out a hand to stroke mine when I get worked up about the man with the cinnamon.
But when I tell him about seeing him with my mother, a panicked look spreads from his eyes to his mouth. “Oh, Phi, you heard that?”
I have almost managed to say I didn’t hear it, when he puts a hand across my lips, holding it firmly in place.
“I didn’t want to do this now, Phi. I wanted to make a nice dinner, set the table with candles and rose petals. I wanted it to be romantic, phi!”
He’s whining, but also confusing me. What is he talking about?
So, I put my own hand over his mouth and whisper, “Everything with you is romantic Kong.” That has his cheeks heating up, and mine too.
There’s a brief pause in the conversation while he shows me his appreciation with one kiss that turns into several, and a little bit of making out that has us seated on the sofa wrapped up in each other by the end of it.
I let him, because it feels so good and because I guess I finally got my power hug for the day.
But when he draws back, he starts again, in earnest, “Seriously P’Arthit, I wanted it to be a romantic surprise, but I guess if you already know..”
Then he stands and goes over to his bag and pulls out a brown envelope and comes to kneel at my feet.
“A long time ago, I gave you that ring.” He points to the one on my ring finger and my fingers automatically twist it nervously. I have no clue where this is going.
“Well, we never did get married, did we P’Arthit?”
I feel like all my breath has been sucked out of me as he slides a document from the envelope.
“I registered us today, Phi. I wanted it to be a surprise. But I was stressing about it because I sent the documents off ages ago and no-one replied to me for months. Even though it’s legal now, it’s taking forever. But today, I got this!”
I stare at him in wonder, eyes darting between Kongpob and the document in his hand that proclaims we can legally marry.
“So that’s why you were distracted,” I say and Kongpob nods.
“I wanted to have it ready for your birthday, but that didn’t work out.. so..”
“Oh you wonderful, wonderful man! I love you Kongpob,”
“I love you too Arthit Rojnapat Sutthiluk?”
“I like it,” I gasp.
“Can I have your name too?”
“Yes,” I kiss him deeply, “Kongpob Rojnapat Sutthiluk. Oh, and I didn’t actually overhear you and my mother, you were far too quiet!”
“Arthit!”
“Hey, I’m still your Phi!”