Brace

I don't know what to say; I just stared at him, trying to understand our situation. "I think we got married too fast; we didn't know each other," I said in frustration. My phone rang, and I answered it. The secretary of my OB called, reminding me of my appointment today. "Let's talk after my checkup," I said, and I turned to walk towards my bedroom to change.

I wore a yellow puff-sleeved knee-length maternity dress. He smiled when he saw me, and his eyes showed appreciation. I threw a bottle of rose perfume at him and motioned for him to follow me. He frowned and looked at me. "I don't like your masculine scents," I said.

He sprayed the perfume all over him. We were both silent in the elevator. He frowned when we walked towards the sidewalk and said, "I don't have a car here." I talked to the tuktuk driver and gave him the address of the hospital. He never said a word; he gently supported me getting in like I was a fragile china doll.

We entered the clinic, and Dr. Chatchai, as we call him, Bank greeted us; he was a young, good-looking doctor with a bubbly personality. He and his wife Nataporn volunteered in the same non-government organization I was in. "How's your feeling, Eyana?" he said while looking at his chart. They all called me by that nickname. "I am still sensitive to food and smell," I said. He smiled, "That's natural. Do you want to know the gender?" he said while looking at Mitch. To my surprise, Mitch answered, "Yes, if my wife wants it." Dr. Chatchai turned to me, and I just nodded. I wanted to know the gender too. I forgot to introduce them, but Bank knew who Mitchell was.

We went to a cubicle inside his clinic, and Mitch helped me lie down. He frowned when the doctor applied gel to my bulging tummy. We were both mesmerized by the sonogram. "It's a girl," he said to us, grinning. Mitch's expression was tender; he stared at the monitor for a long time. He watched the movement of the baby in awe.

I excused myself to go to the comfort room, which I use very often in my condition. I returned to the table with Bank and found Mitch asking questions and making scenarios at him like a soldier making a battle plan. I sighed and looked at him; warning him was the right term. Bank laughed and accommodated him like he was enjoying it.

"I am hungry," I said, and I wanted to eat at my favorite Thai restaurant near the beach. He followed me, and he was alert the whole time. I wear flats these days. I love walking in the streets, interacting with people, and sometimes trying street foods. We walked for fifteen minutes, and sometimes he grabbed my hand to change our position when many people were crowding us. His eyes were like hawks taking a survey of the place.

We chose to occupy the table near the beachfront. The restaurant has a native ambiance, and most of their customers are backpackers and locals. I asked him what he wanted, and he replied, smiling at me, that he wants what I want. I rolled my eyes; his gaze lingered on my face tenderly, like I was the most beautiful thing on earth.

I ordered Thai dishes, and when they arrived, he smiled and raised his brows in amusement at the variety of food I had ordered. Well, I am not alone, you know; I ordered for three," I said defensively. He laughed. "I am glad you and our baby are well, pepper," he said while looking at my tummy. My heart was melting like ice on the glass, the cold water slowly turning normal and becoming warm like my heart right now.

I love somtam, or papaya salad, and fried chicken together. The spicy tom yum and its sourness made me smile when I tasted them. The November temperature was good even at noon. The wind blew my curly hair, which often covered my face because of its thickness.

I banded my hair loosely, and my neck and bare shoulder were exposed. I didn't bother to put on make-up; my freckles were visible, but I didn't pay attention. My interest was focused on the food in front of me. He peeled off the shrimp's shells before he gave it to me.

I was full, and it made me sleepy. The ambiance contributed to my sleepy feeling. I closed my eyes, and my thoughts were fading. Only the sounds of the ocean and the wind remained. "I wanted to talk about Jessica and your child with her, but I am too sleepy," I said. His jaw clenched, but he didn't say a word; he asked for the bill. I saw a beach tent outside; a few locals and foreigners were having their siesta at the sunbathing chair. I stood up and walked towards the sunbathing chair. I lay down and closed my eyes.

I woke up feeling confused by the sound of waves and people talking. My eyes roamed around the place and landed on my right side. Mitch was looking at me intently, like he was doing it for hours. I checked my watch and was surprised that it was already six in the afternoon. I slept for six hours, and I felt that I have lots of energy stored within me that drives me to stay outside. Maybe because I was always in the confines of my unit.

I noticed that owners of mobile bars started to install and arrange the tables and chairs under the coconut trees in the beachfront. I felt thirsty, like I wanted to drink wine and water at the same time. I suddenly stood up, and the world twirled a little due to a sudden rush. Mitch was immediately beside me, holding my shoulder for balance. I held his arm and tugged him into the chair in front of the bar. It was a minibus converted into a bar; he frowned at me. "I am thirsty and hungry; I want mango juice, peanuts, and fries," I said. He smiled at me tenderly and went to the bar to order.

I looked around, and I started to appreciate the simple life from the perspective of many. Simone was right—I need to experience these things to stay in the ground. Mitch returned, and I looked at him intently, studying his features. He is a man of few words, but I realized I can read him. I knew what he was thinking when he frowned; his moves told me something that I understood. We tend to be synchronized in our moves, like, I know what he will ask me, and I answered it before he asked." He was already there when I was thinking of something or planning to do something. I stared at him with a perplexed face.

Why didn't I realize it before? I was focused on the words I longed to hear, but his actions told me his feelings. Like what Zach did to Simone, I even told Zach to say the words to make things clear—to tell her his feelings. I didn't expect that I am also a typical woman; I overthink. Our movements are synchronized because we understand each other. Damn! I smashed my fist into the table without realizing it.

Mitch's gaze traveled to my balled fist and to my face with fear in his eyes. "Jessica's child is not mine, pepper; please don't draw any conclusions. The father of her child is our enlisted personnel. Jessica was never my girlfriend; she loves another man, but her mother had huge pride in her. She didn't accept a lower rank for Jessica. She wanted me for her daughter; she told everyone that Jessica was my girlfriend, and I didn't bother to correct it as I didn't have plans to settle down until I met you. I went crazy when I found out that you went missing, and when I saw the pregnancy test kits in the bin, I felt so scared. I never been so scared in my life; I was in hell these five months." His voice shook, but he continued.

"Zach rebuked me when he learned you went missing, but I didn't mind; I need him and Lance's resources to track you. Romano and Lance monitored every move in the underground. When I reviewed the CCTV and found out that Mrs. Langley talked to you many times, I knew she said something to you about me and Jessica. I confronted them; they both apologized to me, but their apology never satiated my fear for you. When Simone confronted them in her own way, I didn't give a damn." His dark scowl made me want to soothe him.

"Roma told me that someone called from Cambodia asking your identity and that you were held captive by them. I prayed that day that I would do everything you want if you and our baby were still alive." He closed his eyes and spoke again.

"You are my life, pepper! I love you so much! I went to battle; comrades died in front of me; I saw unimaginable deaths in front of my eyes that made me dream of them. But when I learned that you were in danger in the hands of human traffickers, memories of my sister kept flashing back. I experienced a real nightmare that day. I am sorry for all the actions I took that you misinterpreted. I am not used to showing my feelings; please tell me what's on your mind and ask me. I will tell you what's mine. I will do everything to make you stay with me, to see my daughter first, and to be with you every step of the way."

That was the longest talk I heard from him, with his eyes full of tears. I tried to brace myself for his confession, but I didn't expect this. My guilt and the pain he suffered, which made my heart shatter, made me cry loudly. My cries were so loud that people started to look at us.

"I want to go home," I said between my hiccups.