Chapter 51
51
Saturday 15 October
1:20 a.m.
Just checked
TLTS
. Suresh is now at 718K followers on Insta! And there’s a heap of reaction videos on YouTube of people crying and most of it is of the positive kind where no one threatens the creator of
TLTS
for ending Water.
It’s official—Suresh’s bold move to kill Water has broken the internet—ish.
—
Visited Mong at the hospital. He was asleep, which was good. For lack of a good gift idea, I wrote him a card and told him that VizWare was in play again. Usman had written in to tell me this morning.
Also brought him a super boring new edition of some collection of essays from a super boring constitutional law expert from America, so he’d have something light to read.
Then I called Eric.
He met me at Les Deux, the very first restaurant we ever dined at together (“first date” seemed too juvenile a way to put it when it came to Eric). I wouldn’t let him pick me up from my place, preferring to meet him there directly.
There was champagne, a vintage bottle, chilling in a bucket, and dozens of red roses. He was sipping a glass of his favorite Burgundy red. I sat down and refused the menu when offered—I wouldn’t be staying.
“So, here we are,” he said.
I bit my lip and said nothing; I literally could not speak, so clenched was my jaw.
“I think I already know what this is about,” he said after several uncomfortable moments had passed; his tone was cool, his face expressionless.
I slid the beautiful ring in its box back to him. “I’m sorry, Eric. I just . . . I really thought I could, but I can’t. I’m so, so sorry.” I looked at him and looked away. The words were trivial compared to the visible impact it had on him.
He pocketed the box and gave me a small, sad smile. “It’s fine. I was afraid that was what you were going to say the moment you told me you wanted to meet in public. But I was hoping”—gesturing at the champagne, roses—“that my instincts would turn out wrong this time.”
“I wanted so much to mean yes,” I said, feeling worse and worse. “But I would have been making a big mistake. You are a good man—just not for me. I’m so, so sorry, Eric—for taking it back.” I tried to return the Charles Bukowski book, even if it had become such a prized possession to me in such a short time.
He flinched and pushed it back to me. “Please keep that—it was a gift. It’s fine, really. I knew this was the likelier outcome from the moment I saw you hesitate when I proposed. When a woman tells you she needs time to mull over her reply to your marriage proposal . . . well, the odds are definitely not in your favor. Even when you said yes to me in front of your mother, I thought you . . . you seemed . . . unsure.”
“Why did you agree to wait, then?”
He held my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I guess I wanted some more time to endear myself to you, in hopes that one day you’d be convinced to keep me by your side.” He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. Then he placed it gently on the table. “Goodbye, Andrea.”
“Goodbye, Eric.” It was taking all my willpower not to burst into tears at the wounded look in his eyes. I stood and walked away, but not before I paid the tab on our table (an eye-watering sum for his wine and the uncorked champagne). It was not a Power Move, but it was the right thing to do.
Monday 17 October
8:30 a.m.
Went to work and put in the Face Time. There’s still a chance Kai’s spies are wrong. It ain’t over till the fat lady sings.
Still . . . what a chore.
Sunday 30 October
5:30 p.m.
Just came back from KL after visiting my mom over the weekend. She’s recovered remarkably quickly, even if the heart attack had been a minor one. Turns out Eric was right: finding out that I was engaged had indeed hastened her recovery.
I did try to tell her, really; I had it all written down. How I recognized what a good man Eric was and how wonderful our life would be, but one without the surprises, the discovery, and yes, even the struggle, that make life
Life
. Choosing Eric meant choosing to study medicine when I really wanted to study pharmacy, however ridiculous that analogy was. Choosing Eric meant not ultimately choosing Me.
But I still couldn’t. I saw her wan face light up whenever she talked about wedding venues and dates, and I couldn’t do it. She may end up waiting on the longest engagement ever.
1:05 a.m.
OMG. What will happen to me when she finally finds out? When Auntie Wei Wei and the whole clan find out??? Will never hear the end of it. I’ll have to change my name and move to Japan, where people have given up on reproducing and have turned to much more enlightened, spiritually renewing social activities, like viewing blooming sakuras, bathing in
onsens
, etc. And maybe at one of the
onsens
I will, while in top physical shape, run into the divine, utterly age-appropriate Takeshi Kaneshiro, who is still, as far as I can google, single, and we shall fall hopelessly in love.
Mmm. Takeshi Kaneshiro.
1:35 a.m.
Texted Linda about possibly moving to Japan.
1:45 a.m.
She texts back:
Try learning kanji then tell me how you feel about Japan in an hour.
I rolled my eyes. I speak Mandarin, bahasa Indonesia, English, two Chinese dialects, and Spanish at B2 level. How difficult can Japanese be? Challenge accepted.
3:05 a.m.
Forget Japan.
Monday 31 October
7:15 a.m.
Terrible MRT ride. Blond cyborg cyclist was back and weirder than ever. Why, God, why, are men not arrested on public indecency if they wear Lycra suits? Why? It’s
so
unfair!
9:20 a.m.
Must . . . not . . . hurl . . . myself . . . out . . . of . . . building . . .
10:15 a.m.
Ooh croissants!
1:20 p.m.
Have decided to embark on a self-imposed season of sobriety. Much as I hated to admit it, I think I drink a bit too much. I have to stop using (so much) alcohol and Angry Birds/Candy Crush as ways to self-medicate. Abusing alcohol and mobile phone games is not allowing me space to develop the clarity of mind needed to identify and understand the root cause(s) of my problems so that I could truly solve them, according to a listicle I found on a mental health website today.
3:15 p.m.
OK, it’s maybe premature to lump mobile phone games with alcohol. Angry Birds, for example, promotes problem-solving skills and hand-eye coordination. It’s the key to keeping the brain young, unlike alcohol, ruiner of brains.
7:05 p.m.
Maybe will just have a wee bit of Malbec.
1:03 a.m.
Oof.
Saturday 5 November
Exercised today. Ran 3 km on a treadmill.
Fine, power walked.
Fine, walked.
But still—it’s a start.