Crazy Rich Asians

“No, no,” Astrid said. “I want you to know the real reason I got into the car wreck.”

“What are you talking about?” Michael asked, confused.

“I’m talking about how I became so distracted that I almost got our son killed,” Astrid said, a note of anger hanging in her voice. “It was my fault. It was far too late, and too dark, especially those narrow lanes around the Botanic Gardens. I shouldn’t have been driving, but I was. And all I could think about was where you were and what you were doing.”

“What do you mean? I was home,” Michael said matter-of-factly. “What were you so worried about?”

Astrid took a deep breath, and before she could stop herself, the words came tumbling out. “I know you think I’m some sort of delicate creature, but I’m a lot tougher than you think. I need you to be honest with me, completely honest. I saw a text message on your phone last month, Michael. The dirty one. I know you’ve been in Hong Kong when you were supposed to be in northern China — I found your dinner receipt from Petrus. And I know all about the charm bracelet you bought from Stephen Chia.”

Michael sat down, the color draining from his face. Astrid watched him slump into the sofa, his body language speaking volumes. He was guilty as hell. She felt a surge of confidence that compelled her to ask the question she never imagined she would ever ask: “Have you been … are you having an affair?”

Michael sighed and shook his head almost imperceptibly. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry to have hurt you and Cassian. You’re right — the car accident was my fault.”

“Just tell me everything, Michael, and I … and I will try to understand,” Astrid said softly, sitting down on the ottoman across from him, a calmness coming over her. “No more lies, Michael. Tell me, who is this woman you’ve been seeing?”

Michael could not bring himself to look up at his wife. He knew the time had finally come to say what he had been struggling to say for so long. “I’m so sorry, Astrid. I don’t want to cause you any more pain. I’ll go.”

Astrid looked at him in surprise. “Michael, I’m asking you to tell me what happened. I want to know everything, so we can put this all behind us.”

Michael got up from the sofa abruptly. “I don’t know if that’s possible.”

“Why not?”

Michael turned away from Astrid and stared past the sliding glass doors of the balcony. He stared out at the trees lining Cavenagh Road, looking like giant bushy stalks of broccoli from up here. The trees marked the perimeter of the grounds that surrounded Istana, and beyond that, Fort Canning Park, River Valley Road, and then the Singapore River. He wished he had the power to fly off the balcony, to fly toward the river and away from this pain. “I … I’ve hurt you too much, and now I don’t know if I can stop myself from hurting you even more,” he finally said.

Astrid was silent for a moment, trying to decipher what he meant. “Is it because you’re in love with this woman?” she asked, her eyes brimming with tears. “Or is it because you had another child with her?”

Michael smiled mysteriously. “What, does your father have me under surveillance or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. A friend just happened to see you in Hong Kong, that’s all. Who is the boy? And who is this woman you’ve been seeing?”

“Astrid, the boy and the woman are beside the point. You and I … it isn’t working for us anymore. It hasn’t really ever worked. We’ve just been pretending it has,” Michael said emphatically, feeling that these were his first truly honest words to her in a very long time.

Astrid stared at him, stunned. “How can you say that?”

“Well, you want me to be honest, so I’m being honest. Your father was right — I haven’t been doing my duty as a husband. I have been too consumed with my job, working my ass off trying to get this company off the ground. And you — you are consumed by your family obligations and traveling around the world fifty times a year. What kind of marriage do we have? We’re not happy,” Michael declared.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. I’ve been happy. I was very happy until the day I discovered that damn text message,” Astrid insisted, getting up and pacing around the room.

“Are you sure about that? Are you sure you’ve truly been happy? I think you’re deceiving yourself, Astrid.”

“I see what you’re doing, Michael. You’re just trying to find an easy way out of this. You’re trying to blame me, to make this all about me, when you’re the one who’s guilty. Look, I’m not the one who broke our wedding vows. I’m not the one who cheated,” Astrid seethed, her shock transforming into rage.

“Okay, I’m guilty. I admit it. I admit that I am a cheater. Happy now?”

“I’m not happy, and it will take me some time, but I’ll learn to deal with it,” Astrid said matter-of-factly.

“Well, I can’t deal with it anymore!” Michael moaned. “So I’m going to pack.”