I put on my fiercest face. P'Pang had no choice but to comply. She chewed… then her eyes widened. Told you. This was a signature dish—rare, prized, and authentic Isaan soul food.
"This is so delicious! In all my life, I've never had a spicy stir-fry this good. Want to try some, Tongjai?" "Careful—one bite and you'll be hooked. I guarantee it." Tongjai hesitated, clearly tempted. She tried just a small taste first, then smiled—yeah, I could tell. She was sold. "Alright, next up is the lizard larb, and then dessert, right?"
It didn't take long before everything was done. The two of them kept praising me—no surprise there. I used to spend every school break in Isaan, so I can eat pretty much everything. The only thing I won't touch is snake. Grandma said we spiritually raise them; if we eat them ourselves, they'll catch the scent and hold a lifelong grudge.
"Once the plates are ready, go ahead and share the rest among yourselves. I'm going to lie down and recharge for a bit." I headed upstairs and stopped by the window when I heard singing. Two guys were taking turns belting out songs, laughing, occasionally tossing bits of food at each other. It was unbearably cute. I kind of want handsome sons like that.
"What nonsense are you thinking?" I shook the weird thought away. Come to think of it, working life has made me a little strange. I used to find kids annoying—couldn't stand them. Now whenever I see the teachers' kids at school, I can't help playing with them, wishing I had one of my own. With the father of those twins? Ha! What a hopeless fantasy. He doesn't even want to look at my face.
Around seven in the evening, while I was sitting in the living room watching TV, that jerk of a minister suddenly stormed in and threw his suit jacket right at my face. "From now on, when you hear my car pulling in, come out and greet me."
He stood about a meter away. Way too close. The way he stared—I swear, he looked like some Thai ghost about to rip out my guts and feast on them. "Why should I?" I shot back. "You're just walking into your own house. Is that going to kill you? What are you—incapacitated?"
"It's your duty. Don't argue." "I won't!" I tossed the suit back at him. What does he think I am, a maid? I married into this house as a wife, you know. "I-Tim!" "Yes?" I stared right back. Like I'd be scared. "What are you doing?"
He grabbed my wrist and yanked me up. His grip was so tight I honestly thought my bones were about to shatter. "Other than in bed, your duty is to be a proper wife—ironing my clothes, preparing my outfits, setting out my shoes, keeping the house, and waiting to welcome me home. Do it properly, the way your family sent you here to do."
But I wanted to be the lady of the house. Wasn't that how this was supposed to work? "You're crossing the line. What right do you have to order me around? And you—have you ever actually done your duty as a husband?" I snapped. I'm not your son, you know—someone you can boss around.
"I already did. Last night." "That's disgusting. That doesn't count," I shot back. "You order me around, but look at what you're doing—keeping me like some shameful secret. What are you so afraid of? Is it really that hard to admit you have a wife and kids?"