15
Had he just said that to make me happy, or was Toop Pasutha truly starting to feel something for me?
After my parents returned to their countryside home the following morning, with me and him, the man who was playing the part of a loving husband and dutiful son-in-law, stood to see them off as he draped an arm around my shoulders as usual.
It had been nearly a week since he had said those words.
Nearly seven days of him not going anywhere and staying home with me.
“Mr. Toop.”
These days, waking up to find my sleepyhead husband still asleep beside me was becoming normal.
It felt strange at first, but now I had grown accustomed to it.
After getting up and showering, I would sometimes sit and watch his sleeping face.
He seemed so peaceful.
I called his name two or three times, but he did not stir.
Even when I sat down on the edge of the bed and nudged him gently, he remained motionless.
I smiled.
I smiled at his handsome face, his long lashes resting over serene features.
Carefully, I brushed back the stray strands of hair on his forehead.
He frowned slightly, but the crease smoothed out when I lightly tapped his brow.
When he was awake, I would never be able to do something like this.
This was the first time I had the chance to observe my husband so closely.
Lately, even though he still had his sharp tongue, his behavior had often made my heart flutter.
“You should’ve been cast as the villain, not the hero,”
I muttered arrogantly, scrunching my nose at the person who was breathing steadily.
I thought about yesterday when I had felt nauseous.
But before I could make it to the bathroom, he had dashed in first, retching loudly.
He would come out pale and drained, clutching smelling salts.
I had been worried, but I could not help laughing a little.
“You love me now, don’t you?”
I asked softly, voicing what was in my heart.
I did not expect an answer—not from someone sound asleep.
He always deflected whenever I asked such things.
But then,
“Mmhmm,” he murmured.
Toop shifted, turning to face me, nodding slightly, as though answering my question.
I froze, my hand poised mid-air, unable to move.
This was not fair.
I pursed my lips, watching him with shaky eyes, my heart pounding so hard I wished for a remote control to manage it.
How could he make me more confused, more willing to hope for something even in his sleep.
Who cared whether my lousy husband would wake up or not.
“Ah. Mr. Toop!”
Suddenly, he reached out and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me toward him.
I stumbled and ended up so close to his face that our breaths mingled.
My lips were almost on his.
“Mr. Toop!”
I called his name loudly, attempting to move my face away, by pushing against his chest, but he remained still and could not get up.
Was he really sleeping, or was he actually awake and intentionally doing this?
I had tried to push him away, yet his embrace tightened.
“Mr. Toop!”
“Just five more minutes,” he mumbled.
“Hey. You—”
Did he even realize who he was holding?
Did he know that his face was pressing into my belly?
My face burned even hotter.
“Get up, Mr. Toop. If you don’t, don’t blame me for what I’ll do. Ah! Mr. Toop.”
Was he really asleep?
The more I tried to push him away, the more he burrowed into me, his grip unyielding.
Even in sleep, his handsome features were striking, and somehow, I could not bring myself to do it.
He seemed so at ease in this posture, likely because he had not had a good rest in a while.
Fine.
I would sit here and give him five more minutes.
If he did not let go by then, I would push harder.
“He should be awake by now.”
I turned toward the kitchen door, muttering to myself.
At the five-minute mark, I had managed to wriggle free—not so much with a firm push as with a reluctant shift.
Honestly, it was not just him looking comfortable.
Being close to him, my body felt different too.
Mornings were usually dizzying for me, but having him nearby felt oddly reassuring.
It was similar to the night in the hospital; though I was irritated with him then, just the warmth of his embrace and his faint scent had lulled me to sleep.
“Is it him who smells nice, or is something wrong with my nose?”
I frowned as I wiped my hands clean after finishing breakfast preparations.
I craved all sorts of things.
Still, breakfast was the usual mild fare.
I would think about having lunch closer to noon, deciding then whether to cook or order in.
Since it was a day off, I decided to bring a dish to treat Mr. Yai and Khun Lek next door.
We had not spoken since that day.
After deciding, I ladled some freshly made egg-drop soup into a serving bowl, placed it on a tray, and headed out to deliver it to my neighbors.
“Mr. An.”
“Good morning, Mr. Yai.
I was just about to ring your bell.”
I smiled sheepishly at him as he opened the small gate.
If he had been any slower, I might have been fumbling to press the bell with my elbow, shoulder, or some other awkward method, unwilling to disturb him by shouting.
“I was on my way to drop off soy milk and fried dough sticks for you.”
Mr. Yai beamed as he always did, lifting a bag of food as proof.
“Well, I was planning to bring this egg-drop soup over for you and Miss Lek.”
“Really? I was so glad to see you I didn’t even notice what you were carrying. Let me help with that.”
I nodded, smiling as I handed over the tray and took the bag he offered in return.
“Help me carry it and help me taste it too.
Let me know if it suits your palate.”
“We’ll talk about whether it suits my palate, but it’s sure to win my heart, Mr. An.”
His grin was so wide it made me laugh.
“You’re always so cheerful, Mr. Yai.
I can’t compete with that.
Thanks for the soy milk and fried dough sticks.”
“You’re welcome.
My sister and I both agreed this vendor is excellent, so we wanted to share it with you.
I hope you and- your companion from the other day enjoy it too.”
At the mention of the third party—Toop—I could only offer a sheepish smile.
I had no idea how closely Yai followed celebrity news, but if he ever realized the person who had acted poorly that day was Toop Pasutha, I could not predict what impact it might have on my notoriously sharp-tongued husband.
He was charming in front of the camera, he was not on his best behavior that day.
“Mr. An?”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Yai?”
I jolted as he touched my arm, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“If you and Miss Lek personally vouch for it, I’m sure it’s delicious.”
Mr. Yai smiled in return.
“If you like it, Mr. An, that makes me happy.
By the way, are you still feeling dizzy?
I meant to ask the other day but didn’t want to intrude.”
“I’m feeling much better, just…”
I was pregnant.
Though I already knew my condition, I was not ready to share it with him—or anyone else.
Right now, the only ones who know are the two families, the doctor, and P’Thian’s family.
“It’s just a little discomfort.
But thank you so much for helping me the other day, Mr. Yai.
And I must apologize for how he…” I trailed off, leaving Toop’s name unspoken, “acted.”
By the way, who are you staying with, Mr. An?”
His made me hesitant, though it was not intrusive.
After all, we were neighbors with a friendly rapport.
But mentioning my housemate—my famous husband—was not an easy topic.
For me, it was not about whether I lived with a man or a woman.
The real dilemma was telling him who Toop truly was.
“Mr. An?”
“I live with my br—”
I was hoping to say ’brother,’ but—
“Anshan lives with me.”
I turned to see Toop—dressed in fresh clothes, looking impeccable—standing right there.
I thought for sure he would be in the shower for a good while after waking up later than I did.
“You…?”
Yai’s tone was laced with curiosity.
Meanwhile, Toop smiled effortlessly while squinting at the other party, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer.
“Mr. Toop.”
“Yes, Anshan, your husband’s name is Toop,”
he announced.
I gawked at him, my eyes wide in disbelief, before glancing at Yai, who looked equally astonished.
“Husband?”
Our well-meaning neighbor, who I had come to deliver soup to, echoed the word.
The neighbor who I had been trying to hide my relationship with this famous man from.
“Yes, husband. And where there’s a husband, there must be a wife. And yes, that wife is Anshan,” Mr. Toop declared.
He even bent slightly and flashed me a sweet smile before turning back to Yai.
“My wife.”
“M—Mr.
Toop.”
“Yes, darling?
Did your husband say something wrong?
Don’t be shy.
Oh, and about the other day—I was a bit rude because I got jealous seeing a neighbor so close to my wife.
But Anshan explained that you were simply being kind.
I apologize for my behavior, Mr.-uh, Mr. Yai.”
His words flowed smoothly, paired with his trademark smile.
But those sharp eyes that did not match his cheerful tone sent chills down my spine.
And then there were those words—darling and wife.
“Is that true, Mr. An?”
Yai turned to me.
I could barely swallow as I grappled with the unexpected closeness of the arm around my waist and Toop’s audacious behavior.
“Go ahead, darling. Tell him the truth. Don’t worry, it won’t tarnish my reputation. We’re all friends here,”
he added with a wink and a syrupy tone and smile that would melt any fan’s heart.
But as for me, his wife—I felt a mix of goosebumps and a faint, unwilling flutter in my chest.
“Yes…
This is Mr. Toop…
my husband, Mr. Yai.”
“Ahhhh!!!”
Before we could speak again, me and Yai, whose eyes widened even more than before.
As a sudden scream erupted from beyond the small gate behind Yai, it interrupted our conversation.
The unexpected sound caused Toop to tighten his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer.
“Miss Lek!”
“Good morning, P’Yai. Good morning, P’Anshan. And good morning, Mr. Toop Pasutha.”
The source of the scream stepped into view—Lek, Yai’s younger sister.
Her face was a mix of excitement and astonishment as she greeted us, leaving me stunned and bewildered.
“I’m sorry if I startled you, but—!”
The only woman among us took a determined step forward, stopping right in front of Toop and me.
“Is it true? Are P’An and Mr. Toop really married?”
Though I had known Yai and Lek for less than two months, my instincts assured me of their kind nature, reinforced by their actions.
But now, the hopeful glint in Lek’s wide round eyes made me feel unsteady.
“Miss Lek, the thing is, about me and Mr. Toop.”
“It’s true.”
Toop’s voice cut me off.
“I—no, we—P’An and I are husband and wife.”
“Mr. Toop.”
I could not count how many times I had called his name in astonishment with a startled expression.
Meanwhile, he simply smiled at our neighbors, completely unperturbed.
The most delighted person, however, was undoubtedly Lek.
She clung to her brother’s arm, shaking it as her sparkling eyes darted between Toop and me.
“P’Yai. I can’t take it anymore. Please excuse me—scream!!!”