Five minutes later, they’re slurping down thick rice noodles. Between mouthfuls of chunky fried fish and egg floss wisps, they fill each other in on the contours of the year past—the joys and perils of university life, anecdotes about their families and mutual friends. They speak of their plans for the summer and their upcoming internships. By the time their plastic spoons scrape the bottom of their bowls, the topic, as Nadine expected, turns to love.
Mo goes first, recounting the dates she’s been on in the last months. With an air of almost comic resignation, she describes how they haven’t gone so well despite her having studied the profiles of the potential candidates to ensure they met her preselection criteria. When they met in person, she always found something or other that put her off. Mo wipes away a thin moustache of perspiration with the back of her hand. “And you?” she asks.
“Me?” Nadine says. Colour rushes to her cheeks as Matthias appears in her mind. She recalls how they hadn’t known each other’s age, profession or appearance when they first began their correspondence. But with the daily exchange of emails that swiftly grew in length and depth, she soon felt as though they’d known each other for years. They discussed topics spanning love, mortality and philosophy. They divulged childhood aspirations and covert ambitions that would never have surfaced in face-to-face conversations with acquaintances.
One week in, Matthias proposed an idea—to jointly write a story together. The rules were straightforward. He would begin with a paragraph and Nadine was to continue with another, before passing the literary baton back to him. Intrigued, she agreed. Matthias surprised her by beginning with a scene set years into the future, propelling them into a world in which they shared a life together. It was but a short paragraph; Nadine found herself deeply, inexplicably moved. Fuelled by imagination and desire, they wrote on and on, sharing their words and worlds with each other.
As autumn passed into winter and winter into spring, the exhilaration from awaiting, reading and replying to Matthias’ words became the highlight of her days. She knew that the unconventional nature of their connection was bound to raise eyebrows and questions, and she possessed no desire to explain her actions. And so when they met on Skype for the first time, Nadine told no one. When Matthias went down on one bended knee in the world they had written for themselves, it remained a secret between them. To reach each other beyond the virtual world, they made trips to the post office and sent off handwritten letters and brown paper packages.
They longed to meet in person, but were constrained by their schedules. Matthias was a final-year law student preparing for his second state examination in Berlin, while Nadine was a second-year undergraduate and government scholar, in need of maintaining her academic standing. An opportunity finally arose that summer. They arranged to spend a week together in London after they were both done with their exams, and another in his hometown of Freiburg, from which Nadine would head back to Singapore.
In the weeks leading up to their meeting, alternating waves of euphoria and anxiety washed over Nadine. She wanted to tell Mo, but was afraid of her friend’s reaction. She felt as if she knew everything about Matthias, yet feared she didn’t. She wondered if she was utterly reckless to have made holiday plans with someone she’d never met in person. But all her fears dissipated when her eyes met his at South Kensington station. As they made their way towards each other amid a sea of strangers, Nadine felt a surge of affection and intimacy towards Matthias—a being with whom she’d shared her innermost thoughts and feelings, and yet whose form seemed so unfamiliar to her.
Over the following days, Nadine found the latter becoming familiar. Basking in the warmth of what seemed like a reunion, they went strolling in Hampstead Heath, lingered in bookshops along Charing Cross Road, wandered through art and ideas at the Tate Modern, marvelled at the bloom of summer at Columbia Flower Market, tasted more samples than their stomachs could hold at Brick Lane Market. They discovered quirks about each other they hadn’t realised in the preceding months of writing, but none prevented them from travelling onwards to Germany.
A week later, they arrived in Freiburg at dusk. Lying on the edge of the Black Forest, the town appeared quaint, its charm amplified by the presence of her local guide. Around them, open streams of water shimmered in the soft evening light. As they walked into the heart of the city, Matthias told her that those small, open canals were called Bächle—shallow runnels which were used to bring water from the Dreisam River into town since medieval times. By daylight, Nadine saw people frolicking by the Bächle, dipping their feet into the cool waters. Children ran alongside them, pulling along colourful wooden boats amid floating rubber ducks. That evening, Matthias told her that if a foreigner were to accidentally fall into a Bächle, it was believed that person was destined to marry a Freiburger.
On her last day in Freiburg, a playful nudge from Matthias caused her to unexpectedly step into one. Nadine wasn’t sure if she believed in destiny, if she hoped the myth would come true or if it mattered at all. Hours later, on board a plane en route to Singapore, she couldn’t help contemplating the various forms a home could take.
Nadine stops talking.
Her heart is pounding. It’s the first time she’s related anything about Matthias to anyone. She glances at Mo, wondering how her friend will react.
“You mean he’s an ang moh?” Mo laughs, rolling her eyes. “Oh my god, you’re such a SPG!”
The words are like a slap to Nadine’s face. She cannot tell if Mo is joking, but before she can utter a word, Mo exclaims, “Wah, so late already! We better go now if we still want to catch the movie.”
Mo begins gathering her things. Gulping back her hesitation, Nadine follows suit.
By the time they reach the cinema, collect their tickets and sink into the plush seats of the dim cinema hall, Nadine still cannot get Mo’s words out of her head. How could Mo have used that term on her—Sarong Party Girl—with all its derogatory connotations? First, she hardly goes partying. Second, she didn’t even know Matthias’ nationality when they started their correspondence. Third, they’d been writing to each other for over half a year before they actually met in person. Most of all, Mo is supposed to be her BFF, her best friend forever—shouldn’t this point alone nullify all the rest?
Nadine simmers with resentment as she sits next to Mo before the large, illuminated screen. The feeling does not diminish by the time the credits are rolling, does not diminish by the time they bid farewell at the bus stop. Yet she cannot bring herself to confront her friend about it. When Mo reaches out to her a week later, wanting to meet, Nadine says she has plans with her family and suggests a date a fortnight away. When the date draws close, Mo says she doesn’t feel well and postpones the meeting. Another date is set, though not the location and time. The day eventually comes and goes without either of them mentioning it.
In the penultimate week of Nadine’s internship, she finally meets Mo at a gathering organised by their mutual friends. Over dinner, Mo tells the group that she’s now attached. It’s someone she recently got to know from her summer internship. For the rest of the evening, they laugh and banter alongside their friends, as if nothing has changed between them.
On Nadine’s last day in Singapore, shortly before her flight back to London, she considers calling Mo. She reaches for her phone, but just as she keys in Mo’s number, Matthias’ name appears on the screen. Nadine picks up his call with a sting of relief, knowing this is another decision that will propel her towards a future she envisions—yet away from the way things used to be.
DID YOU KNOW
“I’M PREGNANT,” LENA says.
Delight floods Kai’s face. His arms stretch out to pull his wife to him, but it’s only when her bare cheek is pressed against the cotton of his shirt that he realises the stiffness in her posture. They’re both sitting on the olive green sofa in their living room, but her hands, unlike his, remain clasped in her lap.
“Lena?” Kai lets her go to study her face, which doesn’t reflect the rapture in his. He begins to fear that there is a complication with the pregnancy, for she’s thirty-five and he’s four years older. “Is something wrong?”
She says nothing, but anger flares in her ocean blue eyes.
It occurs to Kai then that conceiving their child hasn’t changed her mind. “I know it’ll be tough, but I’m sure we can do it together,” he says.
“You didn’t actually go for the vasectomy two months ago, did you?” Lena asks.
“Is wanting to be a father so much to ask for?”
“What about what I want?”
Kai clenches his jaw. They’ve had this conversation so many times, it makes no sense to repeat it now. Especially not when she’s already carrying his child. His child. The thought gleams in his mind, and it takes all his effort to suppress a smile.
“Lena,” he says, softening his tone. “Nature’s taken its course. Let’s accept it, celebrate it, make the best we can out of it.”
The tips of her elfish ears glare red. Lena turns and stomps into their bedroom, slamming the door behind her. For a moment, Kai worries her tantrum will affect the foetus. But he decides against telling her to calm down. Things will be fine by morning, he tells himself as he prepares to sleep on the sofa for the night.
Lena has already left for work when Kai gets up the next morning. Despite spending the night in the living room, he feels well rested, rejuvenated. He does not mind the jostle of passengers as he boards the MRT. Instead of reading the news on his phone, Kai begins his research. By the end of his thirty-minute commute, he’s come up with lists of recommended gynaecologists, hospitals and essential baby items to be procured. As he enters his veterinary clinic, he makes a mental note to start clearing his things in their spare room to make space for the nursery.
To his relief, the day passes relatively quietly. A series of straightforward consultations, the administering of vaccinations and a routine sterilisation for a Maltese. WhenKai returns home in the evening, he finds Lena’s keys on the dining table.
“I’m home,” he calls out. When there is no response, he adds, “I got vegetarian bee hoon for dinner.”
A few moments pass before Kai hears the flush of a toilet. Lena emerges from their bedroom. She mumbles a greeting, but doesn’t ask about his day. Kai maintains his cheer, doesn’t take offence. They unpack the food and begin to eat. As they bring tangled clumps of noodles to their mouths, Lena doesn’t bring up the topic of the pregnancy, so he doesn’t tell her that he’s decided on the baby’s name. Andrew or Alyssa, depending on the gender. Or both, if they’re lucky enough to expect twins.
Kai glances at Lena, at the scattering of freckles across the bridge of her pale, pointed nose, at her waves of flaming red hair. He wonders if Andrew or Alyssa will inherit her European features. Lena will make a wonderful mother, he has no doubt about that. Their children will be as entranced by her stories as he once was. A smile creeps onto Kai’s face as he thinks about the first days of their courtship, about his initial admiration for her choice of profession as a climate researcher, about her penchant for starting her sentences with Did you know. Did you know that birds living in the city tend to sing louder to be heard? Did you know that palm oil is pushing the world’s largest butterfly to the brink of extinction? Did you know that over three-quarters of coral reefs might lose their colours due to ocean warming? All he knew then was the beauty of her ocean blue eyes, the way they shone with flecks of gold, like the sphere of the Earth seen from the moon.
Lena meets his gaze just then, and perhaps because his expression has betrayed his thoughts, she almost smiles at him.
For the rest of the week, Kai continues to return home early when his work permits. He brings Lena her favourite foods. He places the waste in the composting bin and tends to her hydroponic garden on the balcony. He plans activities for the coming weekends that he knows she will enjoy: birdwatching at Sungei Buloh, cycling around Coney Island, kayaking through mangrove forests. Not once do they mention the child. But he’s familiar with her moods and is prepared to wait it out.
By Sunday evening, Kai is confident that things are back to normal between Lena and him. They’re in the kitchen preparing vegetable stew for dinner, with the television running in the background. He clears his throat and broaches the topic that’s been on his mind all week: the scheduling of her first prenatal appointment.
He is telling Lena that he’ll close his veterinary clinic to accompany her for the appointment with the gynaecologist, when she suddenly scoffs, “Yeah, right.”
