“You’re wrong, Michael!”
“No, you just don’t see it! But I can’t face another dinner at Nassim Road or Tyersall Park with some minister of finance, some genius artist I don’t get, or some tycoon who has a whole bloody museum named after him, feeling like I’m just a piece of meat. To them, I’m always ‘Astrid’s husband.’ And those people — your family, your friends — they stare at me with such judgment. They’re all thinking, ‘Aiyah, she could have married a prince, a president — why did she marry this Ah Beng[92] from Toa Payoh?’ ”
“You’re imagining things, Michael! Everyone in my family adores you!” Astrid protested.
“That’s bullshit and you know it! Your father treats his fucking golf caddie better than me! I know my parents don’t speak Queen’s English, I didn’t grow up in a big mansion in Bukit Timah, and I didn’t attend ACS—‘American Cock Suckers,’ as we used to call it — but I’m not some loser, Astrid.”
“Of course you’re not.”
“Do you know how it feels to be treated like I’m the bloody tech-support guy all the time? Do you know how it feels when I have to visit your relatives every Chinese New Year in their incredible houses, and then you have to come with me to my family’s tiny flats in Tampines or Yishun?”
“I’ve never minded, Michael. I like your family.”
“But your parents don’t. Think about it … in the five years we’ve been married, my mother and father haven’t once — not even once—been invited to dinner at your parents’ house!”
Astrid went pale. It was true. How could she not have realized it? How had her family been so thoughtless?
“Face it, Astrid, your parents will never respect my family the same way they respect your brothers’ wives’ families. We’re not mighty Tans or Kahs or Kees — we’re Teos. You can’t really blame your parents. They were born that way — it’s just not in their DNA to associate with anyone who isn’t from their class, anyone who isn’t born rich or royal.”
“But you’re on your way to doing just that, Michael. Look at how well your company is doing,” Astrid said encouragingly.
“My company — ha! You want to know something, Astrid? Last December, when the company finally broke even and we did our first profit sharing, I got a bonus check for two hundred and thirty-eight thousand. For one minute, one whole minute, I was so happy. It was the most money I had ever made. But then it hit me … I realized that no matter how long I work, no matter how hard I sweat my ass off all day long, I will never make as much money in my whole life as you make in one month alone.”
“That’s not true, Michael, that’s just not true!” Astrid cried.
“Don’t patronize me!” Michael shouted angrily. “I know what your income is. I know how much those Paris dresses cost you! Do you know how it feels to realize that my pathetic two-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus can’t even pay for one of your dresses? Or that I’ll never be able to give you the type of house you grew up in?”
“I’m happy where we live, Michael. Have I ever complained?”
“I know about all your properties, Astrid, all of them.”
“Who told you about them?” Astrid asked in shock.
“Your brothers did.”
“My brothers?”
“Yes, your dear brothers. I never told you what happened when we got engaged. Your brothers called me one day and invited me to lunch, and they all showed up. Henry, Alex, and even Peter came down from K.L. They invited me to the snotty club on Shenton Way that they all belong to, took me into one of the private dining rooms, and sat me down. Then they showed me one of your financial reports. Just one. They said, ‘We want you to have a glimpse of Astrid’s financial picture, so you have an idea of what she netted last year.’ And then Henry said to me — and I’ll never forget his words—‘Everything Astrid has is safeguarded by the best team of lawyers in the world. No one outside the Leong family will ever benefit from or come to control her money. Not if she divorces, not even if she dies. Just thought you should know, old chap.’ ”
Astrid was horrified. “I can’t believe it! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What good would that do?” Michael said bitterly. “Don’t you see? From day one, your family didn’t trust me.”
“You don’t ever have to spend a single minute with my family again, I promise. I am going to talk to my brothers. I am going to give them hell. And no one will ever ask you to recover their hard drives or reprogram their wine fridges again, I promise. Just please, don’t leave me,” she pleaded, the tears flooding down her cheeks.
“Astrid, you are talking nonsense. I would never want to deprive you of your family — your whole life revolves around them. What would you do if you weren’t at Wednesday mah-jongg with your great-aunt Rosemary, Friday-night dinner at your Ah Ma’s, or Pulau Club movie night with your dad?”
“I can give it up. I can give all of that up!” Astrid cried, burying her head in his lap and clinging to him tightly.
“I wouldn’t want you to. You’ll be happier without me in the long run. I’m just holding you back.”
“But what about Cassian? How can you just abandon our son like this?”
“I’m not abandoning him. I will still spend as much time with him as you’ll let me. Don’t you see? If I was ever going to leave, this is the perfect time — before Cassian is old enough to be affected by it. I will never stop being a good father to him, but I can’t stay married to you. I just don’t want to live in your world anymore. There’s no way I can measure up to your family, and I don’t want to keep resenting you for who you are. I made a terrible mistake, Astrid. Please, please just let me go,” he said, his voice getting choked up.
Astrid looked up at Michael, realizing it was the first time she had ever seen him cry.
15
Villa d’Oro
SINGAPORE
Peik Lin knocked softly on the door. “Come in,” Rachel said.
Peik Lin entered the bedroom gingerly, holding a gold tray with a covered earthenware bowl. “Our cook made some pei daan zhook[93] for you.”
“Please thank her for me,” Rachel said disinterestedly.
“You can stay in here as long as you want, Rachel, but you need to eat,” Peik Lin said, staring at Rachel’s gaunt face and the dark circles under her eyes, puffy from all the crying.
“I know I look like hell, Peik Lin.”
“Nothing a good facial won’t fix. Why don’t you let me whisk you away to a spa? I know a great place in Sentosa that has—”
“Thank you, but I just don’t think I’m ready yet. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Okay, tomorrow,” Peik Lin chirped. Rachel had been saying the same thing all week, but she had not left the bedroom once.
When Peik Lin left the room, Rachel took the tray and placed it against the wall next to the door. She hadn’t had an appetite for days, not since the night she had fled from Cameron Highlands. After fainting in the drawing room in front of Nick’s mother and grandmother, she had been quickly revived by the expert ministrations of Shang Su Yi’s Thai lady’s maids. As she regained consciousness, she found a cold towel being dabbed on her forehead by one maid, while the other was performing reflexology on her foot.
“No, no, please stop,” Rachel said, trying to get up.
“You mustn’t get up so quickly,” she heard Nick’s mother say.
“The girl has such a weak constitution,” she heard Nick’s grandmother mutter from across the room. Nick’s worried face appeared over her.