I Think Married the Wrong Man... Not Knowing He Owns Bangkok

Luna Harris went into the room and knew straight away that it was strange. It was the draft of air between the bricks. She had thought there would be noise like she remembered in her early years. She had thought there would be loud voices singing, bottles of champagne being opened, and somebody weeping with love. However, it was not like that. It was not irregular. Everybody was deeply careful in what they said. Her mind advised her that the room was similar to a city hall that people go to in order to arrange affairs. It was weirdly silent. The chairs made a soft croak, similar to insects. Everybody went silent as Luna Harris entered. No one was laughing. Luna Harris discovered that the municipal hall was silent in the manner of persons who are avoiding voices being cried out of consideration for injured feelings. No one applauded. Everything was noiseless. This, of course, is odd. The noise is like the fog that forms in the evening. It is brisk. This guilt rendered her.

She squeezes Ethan’s hand. It was good and warm and safe, and that was exactly the kind of feeling that was so easy to forget. That is also why she does not want to look at the people sitting there. She will see exactly what she expects to see, though a sense of pity will mingle with the preemptive disappointment that will finally occur when their curiosity overtakes her. Right now, she and Ethan should be joking about wedding plans and the impossibilities they both knew would be there.

He took a breath. He was the one who should have been holding the wedding. He sounded like he was reading from a piece of paper. The meaning of his words didn’t mean anything to her. She was looking at the room. Noticing the little things about it that she wanted to notice. Her aunt was trying to smile. It was not working. One of her cousins was staring off into space at their phone that was lighting up their face a little blue. A few of her family members were leaning towards each other. The sounds were loud, but it was very silent and freezing. A little too freezing. How weddings should have been. The wedding was silent, and it was putting everything into place. It was wrong. The wedding was not supposed to happen this way.

She lifted her head just a little more. That was her choice. She chose that road. She chose him to be with. Ethan wore a charcoal suit, which was simple. It fit around his body just right. He didn‘t look like he was trying to be anything, a Christmas present or anything. His hair in its mess, his shoulders appeared relaxed. She thought to herself that this was how she wanted him to be. She seemed to feel at ease. Ethan had no imperfections if she was searching for any. They were deep set into his face and looking at her like he wanted her to talk to him. It felt like he was looking at a note that would be filed away in a drawer and reading it.

In that same moment, the person who was to do the ceremony asked Luna if she would marry Ethan Cole. She didn‘t wait. “I do,” she said. It was strange how her voice sounded to her. It was loud and clear, not like her voice was her empty heart. Ethan Cole said I didn't make it. His voice didn‘t sound happy. Seek to impress. Before, it was like an inner secret only to the two of them, and it felt like it was only Luna and Ethan Cole.

Then Luna and the man exchanged rings. The delicate gold ring was placed onto her finger. At first, it was numb. Then there came warmth. Luna concluded that, gradually, Luna and the ring would become fused to her finger. It was shivering when Luna finally held his hand. The man observed Luna’s hands shivering. The man consumed her shivers in silence. Then he tried to wrap Luna’s fingers. It was a wrap, but it was fixed there. It was a wrap that said more than words could about Luna and the rings.

My nuptial commissioner was embalming. “Kiss the bride!”

The next thing I knew, it was really quiet. No applause. No cheers. Ethan slowly turned a full 360; it seemed like he was the last person on the planet. He took his hands and touched her face. His thumb found her cheek as he gently kissed her. No one else was there when he kissed her. Ethan was slow, careful, and shy; he was there with her, not just doing it to impress. My heart leapt into my mouth. When they pulled apart, their foreheads touched. Ethan’s kiss told her everything was going to be okay. The way his lips kissed her made the staring and whispering irrelevant. She and she were still touching. It was uninhibited.

He uttered, "Thank you for selecting him," in a whisper so soft it was only audible to Luna.

A prickly feeling ran down her throat. She hung onto him desperately as if he were the only thing that could save her. She was so frightened that if she relaxed, then it would all go to pieces. He was stopping her from falling apart, hard and strong, his chin resting on the top of her head. A cough from the crowd made Luna look at her aunt, who was leaning forward and whispering loudly enough to be heard by the people around, who was saying, "Such a waste; you could have done better with someone." Luna was holding the other person, and her aunt was talking, thinking Luna could have picked someone.

The party was just like being in cold air. The tables were round, and the food came on plates, and the room was not very bright. The decorations were nice. They didn’t make people happy. Luna sat next to Ethan. Their knees went under the tablecloth; it was happening, but it was like a lot because it was so silent. When someone laughed, it just sounded like they weren't laughing genuinely, just like a noise.

Her cousin Clara arrived ten minutes late, already dressed in a beautiful satin dress, wielding a complete lack of modesty with one hand on her hip. She had a brilliant, toothy smile on her face with diamonds shining around her lips as if to say, "Don't mess with me." Is this really it? Clara asked delicately, thinking of her smug smile, insinuating a ‘close relationship’ by what she called. That seemed more like a bad emotion that sat in the pit of your stomach. like she was intentionally trying to make me feel out of place. Even now.

Luna smiled. And she said, "We want something really simple."

Clara looked at Ethan. Don't look away. Said to him, “{...}. Who are you?”

He rang when he got up to introduce himself to her. He offered his hand to Ethan.

Clara merely touched the back of Ethan’s hand briefly before pulling her hand away. She asked, ‘What do you do, Ethan?’ in a voice he could tell was trying to deliberately hurt.

And the table just stayed there. He said, “I am in the middle of some things every day,” and he said it lying back, and he was really calm about it.

Clara let out a dry, very unhappy laugh. ‘Naturally,’ she said. Luna started feeling rather hot; her cheeks (in fact, her whole face) were flushing with color, more specifically, her neck. Luna held Ethan firmly against her underneath her clothes. His chin didn‘t move, nor did he seem in any way displeased; he was mildly unflappable and remained perfectly still; he didn’t seem to mind.

As they departed, there were no farewells, no unkind words, and no wishes for good luck, only little smiles and smiles. When Luna finished putting on her coat, though quiet, her aunt said to her loud enough for the two of them: “Luna will regret it.” Again, Ethan heard Luna’s aunt saying it but didn’t comment and remained silent. Out beyond the night air, Luna could smell tar mixed with tears of jasmine. There were so many sounds of this city, the rush of autos, the sparkle of neon signs. Luna let out a soft, trembling breath that she had not tried to mask. “I’m sorry,” she started, the words rushing forth before she could shut them out. “I’m sorry it all had to end like this, with the city and everything.”

Ethan looked very upset. “Why are you apologizing to me? You’ve been wrong.”

(For them. For now.)

He took a couple of steps forward. Gently lifted her chin to force her to look into his eyes and said, “Today was truly great.” Today I married the woman I love. The woman I love is the only thing that matters to me in the whole world. When I think of the woman I love, that is all I think of in the entire world.

The tears blurred her eyes. She held him closer still, her arms wrapped round him tighter than ever, knowing that he was hers might just be enough to make everything OK. They made their way home along a deserted street. It was a house, a little old, but it was home. When Ethan scooped her up and carried her in through the door, she couldn't help but let out a laugh. The first sound in a while that didn’t come from her was heard as they crossed the threshold.

Cliffhanger: And then she was on the balcony, overlooking the city. It was as if she were staring at millions of stars dimly glittering. Ethan hurriedly threw his arms over her. She whisperingly said, “Everything’s going to be alright.” He concurred.

He didn’t see the glow on his thigh; the phone was busy vibrating underneath his jacket, as though there was a bug caught in the material. She didn't realize that the name flashing across the screen was of someone who could change your life with a single word. The hum of another person’s phone was the same as his was, and he held the entire power of the phone and the life he had there; little did he know the same was happening to his, just with buzzing.