Chapter 44
44
Sunday 2 October
9:50 a.m.
“You’ll
think
about it?” Linda shrieked. “That was your answer to a marriage proposal from Eric fucking
Deng
?”
“We’re still in the early days of our relationship. Plus he ambushed me,” I said between cool, calming gulps of bargain-bin Pinot Grigio. “It was the best I could do under the watchful eyes of thirty diners! Apparently some of them were his closest business partners!” I made a face.
“Well, I think it’s brave,” Jason said.
“Shut up, suck-up,” Linda said, succinct in her meanness as always.
“Settle down, you two,” I said companionably.
Jason and I were sprawled on the L-shaped couch, him with a glass of tap water, me with a bottle of Pinot Grigio that he had purchased from the local convenience store. Linda was on FaceTime with us from Lisbon; ostensibly she was there to meet with some clients, but really she was living it up with some Filipino jet-set friends of hers from boarding school. At least she was making every effort again to be there for me when I needed her: we had promised each other once upon a time that we would FaceTime whenever one of us sent out an emoji of a shark. A kind of Bat-Signal. I had sent one out as soon as I got home, but she was only able to reply to me six hours later to confirm that she could speak at 9:00 a.m. Singapore time, and now here we were. Neither Jason nor I had had much sleep (I’d put out an early-morning SOS for
company at my place on the group chat and he’d come over with liquid breakfast, the doll), and we were now FaceTiming while (I was) drinking.
“All the same, although things are moving really fast, it
feels
natural. We seem to be in a good place, and I’ve already met his daughter.”
“So, are you going to marry Eric or what?” Linda pressed. “And when are you expected to give an answer?”
“In two weeks, apparently.”
“It doesn’t seem right, to have to take two weeks to think over a marriage proposal.”
“Touché, sister. But two weeks is all I could get.”
“I meant, you shouldn’t have to take so long, you dope.”
“She’s got a point,” Jason said, making a face. “But, seriously, do you even love him?”
“I do love him,” I said sincerely. “I could be happy with him.”
“You could be happy with a vibrator, honey,” Linda said. “That’s how I get though my manless days.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Anyway, I’ve got to go. We’re attending a private after-party hosted by one of the Saudi princes, I believe. Someone told me David Guetta is spinning.”
“Only David Guetta?” I said sarcastically.
“I think”—she was distractedly putting on mascara while FaceTiming me—“Rihanna’s supposed to make an appearance as well, but the very
least
we can hope for is Maroon 5 minus Adam Levine.”
After we had said our goodbyes and Jason left, I sat in the dark and watched YouTube videos of cats doing funny things while doing up a pros and cons list for marrying Eric so early in our relationship. Not that I could concentrate. I kept tweaking the list. Can’t say I’ve found anything more gratifying in the pros column than “forever beating Helen.”
11:05 p.m.
Andrea Deng. Andrea Tang-Deng. Mrs. Deng.
11:47 p.m.
It’s just impossible to decide in two weeks. Mostly because this is so new. Normally couples date for at least a year, then they move in together, rough it for two years, then get engaged. That is the proper progression . . .
12:05 a.m.
Oooh, knock on the door!
3:17 a.m.
Was Eric in a suit. At first I was a little annoyed, since we were not supposed to see each other during these two weeks so I could have some space to think. Apparently a meeting in Jakarta had been canceled, so he’d decided to fly back to surprise me on his way to Malaysia. He’d come bearing a lush bouquet of dahlias, champagne, and a handwritten poem. It was all so sincere and romantic that I forgave the rule-breaking and spent a couple of hours just cozying up with him on the couch, drinking champagne while he caught me up on his admittedly complicated stepfamily tree.
“And speaking of family, here’s one of the reasons I came back to Singapore today.” He took something out of the pocket of his suit jacket. “Here,” he said, handing it to me.
I looked down, stunned. It was my Cartier watch, my graduation gift from my parents, the one that Orson had filched. “I-I don’t . . . I don’t understand.” I kept caressing the watch. “I mean, how?”
“I got it back for you from the . . .
boy
who’d stolen it from you.”
Apparently not too long after I’d casually mentioned Orson at our first and only group date, he’d asked Linda for more details at the Fourth of July party, and used his contacts in the PI industry to track Orson using a photo that I had sent to our WhatsApp group at LGA and which Linda had forwarded. It had been difficult to track Orson, since he didn’t really frequent the same spot twice, or
at least he didn’t follow any routine. “When my PI finally found him at one of the bars, he followed him to his HDB
*
flat, and—”
“Karate chopped him?” I interrupted eagerly.
He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “He took out his phone and threatened to start livestreaming unless he listened. He gave Orson an ultimatum. Either give back the watch or he would live broadcast his face and address on all the forums so all the women who he’d stolen from can take legal action—or otherwise.” Now he was grinning.
“That is an awesome threat,” I had to admit. “What did he say?”
“At first he didn’t know which watch my PI was referring to. He was confused. Turns out this guy has been running love scams for some time. It was only when the PI told him the watch model and the inscription on the back that he remembered which one was yours. Said that he hadn’t managed to pawn it because of that inscription, so he had been holding on to it. And now here it is.”
I was so touched, not just by the lengths he went to to please me but by the level of attention he paid to the seemingly random things I said to him, that I started to cry. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
He kissed the top of my head. “You’re welcome. Listen, I’ve been thinking about how I went about asking you to marry me. I’m sorry I sprung the whole engagement thing on you,” he murmured in my hair. “I know it’s fast, and we’re supposed to do things a certain way, but I can’t imagine waiting around two more years just so it’s appropriate to pop the question. You know I’m a decisive person, and Andrea, I know it’s you that I want.”
I found it hard to speak, so I kissed him.
Since he had an early flight to Malaysia and I had to work in a few hours, he left sometime around three. His visit had left me
keyed up, so I eschewed sleep and decided to go for a rare jog, figuring that the exercise would help me think. I couldn’t understand why I was on the fence about Eric—was it because it just felt too soon? That had to be it. Objectively speaking, Eric had so many good qualities it was hard to keep count: intelligent, caring, worldly, a good father, a family man, and, let’s be honest, wealthy. And he was totally devoted to me.
The more I thought about it, the more it made sense to commit to Eric. The bird in the hand is worth none in the bush, obviously. And obviously I would win forever over Helen if I married Eric. Billionaire
and
of Chinese descent.
And if I could time it so I’d get pregnant immediately after the wedding, and announce it right before Helen’s wedding . . .
Ahaha. Ahahaha!