14
“Eat a lot, both of you—Anshan and Mr. Toop—so you’ll have the energy to run after the little one.”
“Mom,”
I called out again.
From midday until dinner tonight, I had no idea how many times I had alternated between calling out to Mom and Dad in a soft, scolding tone.
They were seated at the dining table facing Toop in our spacious house, which was livelier than usual.
Despite my protests, they just smiled, as did Toop, who said nothing and just smiled, much like during our previous visit to their country house.
My parents had come to visit us today, ostensibly to see how we were doing, but mostly to celebrate the soon-to-arrive grandchild, even though the baby was not due for months.
Throughout the day, Dad bragged endlessly, while Mom enthusiastically gave advice on how I should take care of myself.
Although they were thrilled about the good news, it was clear they were also quite concerned about me.
After all, I was a man, and this pregnancy, while special, came with unique challenges.
There was no telling how smooth it would be.
“Stop saying Mom like that, An. Eat up. I put my heart and soul into this meal,”
Mom said, piling food onto my plate from across the table.
“But Mom and Dad are here. I should be the one hosting.”
I pouted slightly, only to have my cheeks pinched, making me wince.
“It hurts, Mom.”
“Good.
It should hurt a little.
Now, stop saying things like that.
We know you and Mr. Toop are considerate, but it’s your dad and me who are imposing on you.
Let us take care of things, alright?”
“Mom.”
“Let her enjoy this, An.
When she found out you were pregnant, she almost had me bring her here last night.
It’s a good thing she spoke to son-in-law’s mom first.
This morning, she was up early, giving me instructions to gather all sorts of nutritious things for you to make a few dishes to bring along.”
“Dear,” Mom said in a low tone, glaring at Dad after he teased her.
But Dad was not fazed.
He just chuckled with Mr. Toop.
“Thank you again, Mom and Dad, for coming all this way to visit us today.
I’m sorry to trouble you both like this.”
“There you go, talking like Ann.
We already told you we’re more than happy to come.
Just take good care of each other and the little guy in the belly, okay?”
“The little guy?
Dear, I told you—it has to be a girl for the firstborn.”
“It’s going to be a boy, Dear.”
“Oh, come on, Dear.”
“Mom, Dad,”
I chimed in, shaking my head with a smile at their playful bickering rather than facepalming at the chaos that was immensely lively this evening.
The evening might have been noisy, but it was filled with warmth.
Along with thanking my parents for their visit, I was also grateful they agreed to stay the night.
I did not want Dad to drive late.
Most of all, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude toward my husband, who handled everything perfectly.
He was incredibly respectful to my parents and played the role of a devoted husband with ease.
“Here, try this dish, too.”
His demeanor—his words, his actions, and the care he showed—seemed entirely sincere.
He made my parents feel like he truly cared for and loved me.
Though I was not accustomed to him serving me food like this, an act he never did, I played along, doing my best to fulfill the role of an agreeable wife.
Since returning from the island, I had gradually become more of myself, but I was not ready to let our parents see the truth—that one of us did not feel the same way about the other.
“Thank you. You too, eat plenty.”
I was not sure if I had imagined the flicker of surprise in his sharp eyes, which quickly returned to normal.
As I turned, smiled, and put some of my mother’s delicious dishes on his plate, I saw Toop showing what seemed to be a surprise.
Then, as if on cue, he smiled—a soft, tender smile that momentarily made my heart feel a gentle warmth.
But almost immediately, I reminded myself: this was just an act.
“Cough.”
“An.”
“Anshan.”
Mom and Dad exclaimed with alarm when I suddenly choked on a small bite of food.
Toop immediately stood, moving to pat my back with just the right amount of pressure—not too light, not too firm.
Even so, it left me feeling a bit winded, choking on tears that were springing to my eyes.
This was not good for the baby.
Taking a deep breath, I raised a hand to indicate I was fine.
But as I turned my teary gaze toward my husband, I noticed that his eyes seemed to well up again.
“Mr. Toop.”
He stared at me, as I called out his name with a startle, but his expression suggested he did not understand my surprise.
“My goodness, Mr. Toop, why are you crying?”
“What?” Hearing them and seeing their stunned face, Toop instinctively touched his cheeks and, upon realizing that his tears were indeed falling, recoiled as though in shock.
“Isn’t it endearing?”
I frowned slightly, lying on Mom’s lap on the wide guest room bed upstairs.
Dad and Mr. Toop were still chatting downstairs.
After dinner, I had planned to help with the dishes, but Mom insisted I rest while she took over the cleaning with my husband who offered to help.
Despite their efforts to take care of everything, I was not thrilled.
It was not bad to have people worry, but I was not in such a delicate state—I was only mildly experiencing pregnancy symptoms.
Still, I set that thought aside for now as curiosity took over.
Why had Mom made that lighthearted comment while gently stroking my hair?
“It’s Mr. Toop.
He’s probably experiencing pregnancy symptoms for you.”
“That’s not true, Mom,”
I dismissed the idea, but she quickly countered.
“It’s so obvious. I bet he’ll start throwing up, craving sour foods, or wanting something bizarre to eat soon enough.”
Hearing that, I found it suddenly harder to swallow.
I sat up slightly, recalling how he had retched earlier today—was that morning sickness?
As for food cravings, it was probably the three bowls of yen ta fo.
Toop was not someone who ate so much.
“What’s on your mind, An?”
Mom’s gentle question snapped me out of my thoughts.
I shook my head.
“Nothing much, really.
Just random things.”
“Oh, An, An.”, she said with a warm smile, her palm resting against my cheek.
“Are you overthinking things because you’re pregnant?
That’s not good for the little girl in your belly.”
“Mom, you’re still insisting on calling them that?”
I said with a laugh, steering the conversation in a different direction.
Mom feigned ignorance.
“She’ll be a little girl, for sure. Trust me.”
I sighed, shaking my head with a small smile.
In the end, I did not care if the baby was a boy or a girl.
My only wish was for our child, now that I knew they were on the way, to be born healthy and strong.
“You’re going to be a father, Anshan, my dear.”
“And Mom’s about to be a grandmother too.”
I flashed a playful grin, my heart and eyes brimming with happiness.
I had already decided that both my parents and Mr. Toop’s would share equal titles as grandparents, just as I was equally a father to our child.
“I can’t wait to meet the little one.
By the way, have you and Mr. Toop discussed taking a course yet?”
“What course?”
“Parenting course, a preparation course for soon-to-be parents.
I spoke with Mr. Toop’s mother this morning.
We thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to find time to attend.
Of course, after the baby arrives, we’ll both be there to help, but having some foundational knowledge will make things easier when the little girl comes along,”
Mom explained with a smile.
I looked down briefly, nodding.
“I’ll look into it, Mom.”
But I already knew—I would likely have to attend the course alone.
Mr. Toop probably would not have time to join.
Just having him sitting down with me to eat yen ta fo today had been nerve-wracking enough.
“Good.
It’s already 8 PM; I think you should head to your room and rest now.”
“You should rest too, Mom.”
She nodded and stood up alongside me.
“I can get there on my own, Mom.
The rooms are so close.”
“Don’t be silly.
I’ll walk you to your door.”
I smiled and chuckled but froze the moment we opened the door.
“Oh, Mr. Toop! Were you looking for Anshan?”
He nodded, adding a charming smile that immediately melted my mother, his devoted fan.
“Yes, Mom.
I got carried away chatting with Dad and lost track of time.”
“And Dad-”
I asked about his absence.
“He’s downstairs in the bathroom.
It’s late.
Let’s head back to our room.”
“I was just about to walk him there.
Well then, I’ll leave him in your care, Mr. Toop.
Sweet dreams.”
“You too, Mom,”
I said, we smiled at each other.
But as soon as I passed through the doorway, Toop wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
“You.”
“Yes?”
He smiled innocently as if unaware of my narrowed gaze, at his hand that was resting firmly on my shoulder.
As for me, I’m blushing, but I can manage.”
“Mom.
Hey—you-”
I exclaimed, attempting to reprimand him when he tightened his hold, pulling me even closer.
I stopped myself, not wanting to make a scene in front of Mom.
Despite knowing he was only playing the part of a doting husband, just like when we visited the countryside, his mischievous grin sent my emotions reeling.
I felt both exasperated and flustered, ultimately letting it go.
“Goodnight, Mom.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Toop. See you tomorrow, An.”
I smiled at her one last time before stepping into the room with his hand over my shoulder.
“Let go,”
I said as soon as the bedroom door closed behind us.
Expecting him to release me as he had in the past, I waited, but when he did not move, so I finally spoke up.
“What’s the matter?
You rush to keep your distance the moment we’re alone?”
“Weren’t you just doing your duty?”
His usual stern expression faltered for a moment.
The arm he had had around my shoulder lifted uncertainly as if unsure of itself.
Rather than feeling a familiar sting in my chest, this time, I felt something else entirely.
“You’re getting better at making me delude myself every day, Mr. Toop.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If you’re curious, why not ask me directly?
Just like you told me to do?
That’d be good.”
“Anshan.”
His tone turned sharp, but I stood my ground, meeting his gaze.
“Do you remember what I said during our honeymoon? Even now that we’re back, even after the yen ta fo—you’ve apologized in your way. As for the neighbor, we’ll deal with that later. But I won’t forget to keep reminding you even if I’m angry with you: Do you love me yet?”
I held his gaze, watching his furrowed brows as he listened intently.
“Do you love me, or feel even a flicker of emotion for your wife yet?”
When I asked him, I kept my eyes on his, but as always, they eventually dropped.
“If I told you yes—that your husband is starting to feel something—what would you do?”
I snapped my head up, my eyes widening at his response.
I had not braced myself for that answer, nor for him stepping closer, forcing me to back away.
“Well, what now, my moody little wife? How many emotions do you go through in a single day?”
He crossed his arms, walking toward me as though intent on cornering me.
“What are you talking about?
Ask yourself first how many emotions you go through in a day.
Yesterday, you were yelling at me, and then you turned around and acted all nice—never even bothered to say sorry outright.”
“Your tongue’s as sharp as ever, I see.”
I hesitated, clenching my jaw as if to argue back, but somehow, as I backed away from him, I found myself standing near the bed in the center of the room.
How many emotions could a person cycle through in a single day, anyway?
Especially when it came to me and my razor-tongued husband.
“Well?”
He repeated, taking another step forward, forcing me back until I was pressed against the edge of the wide bed.
“I want to take a shower.
I’m going now.
Ugh.
Let go of me, Mr. Toop!”
“You’re not just sharp-tongued; you’re good at running away too?”
He smirked, a sly, infuriating expression, as he caught me before I could dart into the bathroom.
Wrapping his arms tightly around me, he spun me to face him.
“I’m not sharp-tongued, and I wasn’t running away.
Your overactive ears must have misheard me.
I said I wanted to take a shower and rest.
Let me go, Mr. Toop, ah.”
“Oh, so now you’re saying my ears are overactive?”
His grin turned even more mischievous, completely ignoring my protests as he tightened his hold.
“Thinking about it, you might be right.
My ears must be sharp, because I could’ve sworn I just heard my wife inviting me to shower with him.”
“What?
When did I ever say that?
I said—”
“An.
forgot to ask—what do you two want for breakfast tomor- oh my!”
“Mom.”
Just as I was pushing back against him, ready to argue more, the unlocked bedroom door suddenly swung open, and my mom stepped in.
Startled, both Toop and I immediately sprang apart.
Sure, we were married, but to be caught holding onto each other so tightly in front of our parents was a whole different story.
But before I could say anything to my mom, who had turned her back to us, his arm was already around my shoulders again.
“You—”
“Your husband is just doing his job. Now, ask your mom quickly.”
I huffed at him, irritated by the playful glint in his eyes.
Turning back to Mom, I managed to converse with her while she nervously apologized for bursting in to ask about tomorrow’s breakfast.
After she left, her face still smiling warmly, I tried to head to the bathroom, only to find my pretender of a husband trailing behind me.
He was incorrigible, I thought with a scowl.
Still, as I showered, my heart raced when I replayed his earlier words. ’If I told you yes—that your husband is starting to feel something—what would you do?’