A Wished-For Love, Chapter Twenty-Two

I glanced up at Sasi’s balcony as I approached her building. Her rooms were on the top floor directly above the pool. I wasn’t surprised to see her waving to me. I returned her wave and walked faster. When I looked again she had gone. I pushed through the revolving door and strode through the lobby. The clerk called out but I ignored him; I couldn’t wait to see Sasi. The elevator doors opened and she ran into my arms.

“Tom. Tom. How wonderful of you to come. I was worried you mightn’t.”

I held her by the waist as she kissed my cheek. My hand pulsed with the touch of her body. The clerk was standing by, his face filled with anguish. He spoke to Sasi in Thai. She replied, then wrote in the guest book to the clerk’s visible relief.

“Oh, Tom. You are a criminal. You failed to sign the guest book. I may have to call for the police.”

“Oh dear. Will you handcuff me so I don’t run away?”

“Of course, but the handcuffs are in my nightstand.”


She took my elbow the way a policeman might have done. “Come with me, you felon. I am making a citizen’s arrest.”

“Is that a thing in Thailand?”

“You know, I will have to ask the police when they arrive.”

“What did you write in the book? That I promised to always sign in?”

“I wrote that I take responsibility for your actions, though you ravish me and make off with my sangria.”

We laughed at the joke, and when the doors opened entered the elevator. The attendant’s placid face turned into a smile when he saw Sasi. When the door opened to the foyer, the attendant bowed and spoke to her. She appeared to blush – the cast of shadow made it hard to tell, but she smiled and said thank you in English. The attendant bowed again as the door closed.

I was intrigued; the blush seemed remarkable for Sasi. “What did he say?”

“He said it was a pleasure for him to see me laughing, that I most often look serious and it makes him afraid to speak to me. I had not realized that was so. I must endeavor to smile more often when staff is in my presence.”

She stood close to me and I was afraid she would hear my heartbeat. Had she pressed her palm to my chest she would have felt its rapid beat.

“You make me smile, Tom. Perhaps you should see me every evening.” Her moist, parted lips seemed to beg the press of mine.

“Then we would both smile, Sasi.”

Neither of us spoke for a moment and I thought if she were any other woman I would kiss her. I knew she wouldn’t turn away. I knew too, that I would stay with her and there would be no turning back.

The long moment slipped past and Sasi opened the door and led the way to the kitchen. Sasi had known I would come: she picked up a tray with two glasses and a pitcher of sangria and nodded toward the balcony.

“If you will open the door, Thomas, I will serve the drinks in Club Sasi.”

We sat at the same table as before and rested our feet the same way on the balcony rail. The sangria was cold and soothing, the night warm and relaxing. I was glad I had come. Sasi wore shorts and a light blouse tied in front. Her manner expressed ease and comfort. We made light talk for a while, Sasi asking questions about the life of a Sailor, while I learned more of Sasi’s remarkable life as the child of a globetrotting diplomat. My fatigue drained away as we chatted and I slid ever deeper into the rattan chair.

A timer rang out and Sasi walked to the kitchen where she was warming a late snack. She returned with a tray of sweet pork spring rolls and a dish of fried rice. She set the tray on the table between us, and we ate from small plates, using fingers for the spring rolls and spoons for the rice.

“Ummm, these spring rolls taste great, and the fried rice is different but delicious. You’re a wonderful cook, Sasi.”

“You’re sweet to say so, Tom. The spring rolls are made from my mother’s recipe, the fried rice is my own creation.”

“I can’t put my finger on what makes it different, though”

“We use shrimp paste in Thailand, and jasmine rice. I add coconut water when cooking the rice, though; perhaps that makes the difference.”

I was famished and Sasi watched me eat, smiling as I scooped the last of the rice into the spoon with my finger.

“I must remember to keep fried rice warm for your visits.”

“Fried rice is comfort food.” I sipped from a glass of water and dabbed my lips with a cloth. “The first meal I ate in Pattaya, several years ago during my first visit here, was pineapple fried rice served in a hollowed-out pineapple, along with salad and red snapper – I selected the fish myself from the display tank. Everything was so delicious. I must take you to that restaurant if it’s still open.”

A pleasant drowsiness overcame me just then and I couldn’t stifle a yawn and covered my mouth. “Excuse me. I guess eating made me sleepy.”

“You must be dreadfully tired after such a long day of hard work,” she said.

“Your note was a welcome relief and invigorated me. I had wondered if I should come, and was afraid it would seem presumptuous and untimely. Still, I thought about our date all day, although I grew less hopeful about seeing you as the work wore on.”

“I would have slept on the sofa all night waiting for you.”

“It must be a comfortable sofa. Does it double as a bed? If I pull up the cushions, will we find a squeaky, lumpy mattress or a satin divan fit for a seraglio?”

“Neither, but we could lay the sofa and chair cushions on the floor. They would make a suitable bed, yes?”

“Hmm. What if we slipped between the cracks? Would we not disturb the people below us?”

The mischievous smile gave her away. “That would depend on how much noise we made.”

“I can’t picture you in an awkward position.”

“You haven’t seen me on my yoga mat.”

“Oh? Limber, are you?”

“Visualize a human pretzel and you will have some idea.”

I liked the image, not because it was suggestive, but because it fit the picture in my mind of this warm woman whose charm was melting my heart. Whether it was the sangria, the late meal, or the fatigue that was returning, I wanted her to know how I felt.

“There is grace in all your movements, Sasi. You are purposeful, direct, funny, thoughtful, considerate.”

Pleasure showed in her face and she looked at her hands, clasped in front of her.

“You are charming, seductive without effort, beautiful beyond measure, and your smile reaches deep inside me so that I want to cry with joy when I see you.”

I paused, certain I had said too much, too soon. “Now, I’ve said too much and upset you.”

“No, Thomas. I’m not upset.”

“You’ve called me Thomas several times.”

“Have I?”


“Should I not?”

I was silent.

“Did Susanna call you Thomas?”

“Yes, Sasi.”

Sasi’s eyes were pleading, her voice soft and tender. “Tell me about her.”

“No, Sasi.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“No, Sasi. You don’t. You can’t understand.”


“No. Someday, I will tell you about Susanna. I’m not ready.”

“What if someday I am no longer here?”

Her eyes held mine in a steady gaze.

She spoke again. “What if someday you are no longer here?”

“What do you mean?”

She rose from the chair and leaned on the balcony railing. Moonlight reflected in her black hair – the way it had done in Susanna’s. Where Susanna’s face was parchment white, Sasi’s face was tan. Their lips had the same fullness, the same dip in Cupid’s Bow, the same moist pull of desire.

“I don’t believe in chance, Thomas. I believe we were brought together for a purpose.”

“For what purpose?” My heart beat faster and faster.

“I have waited for you all my life, Thomas.”

“What makes you feel this way?”

She turned toward me, her hands behind her on the rail. “When I first read your name in the register my heart seemed to beat faster.”

“Perhaps it was coincidence.”

“Yes. Perhaps. It happened a second time when I read your name again. When you gave me your letter it happened a third time, but with a stronger feeling.”

“Maybe that’s when you fell madly in love with me. Maybe angels were saying,
“Fall in love, Sasi.”

Behind the smile, I was serious. I wanted to hear the words “I love you, Thomas,” spill from her lips but I was afraid to hear them too. The pull she exerted on my heart was tangible, not just a whisper of desire, not just a wish. Susanna’s pull had affected me the same way. I was afraid of what was happening with Sasi, and afraid, too, of what she might tell me. It wasn’t wrong, it was just too late. Wasn’t it?

She turned to face the sea and I went to her, standing so close that our shoulders touched when we moved slightly. I breathed in the thick, jasmine scent of Sasi’s perfume. The closeness of her body sent a thrill through me, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. I would recall that moment many years later. The thrill passed, but the feeling remained, a warmth that seemed to buzz silently about me, as the love potion cast by a fairy godmother sparkles around the virtuous lover.

Then I knew I had to go. The spell of Sasi was strong and I being weak could not break it. I had not come to Thailand to add guilt on top of guilt, but I could not step away from Sasi. Every bond between a man and a woman begins with a crucial moment. Our moment was at hand. Was lightning striking a third time?

“I did not want another relationship with a man, Thomas. My last one ended badly and left me with much anger and hurt. For some reason, though, some reason I do not understand, I wanted to know more about you before you walked away. I knew I had to see you before you saw anyone else, before you saw another woman. I had to stop you before fate intervened and left us no more than hotel manager and guest.”

Sasi walked to the end of the balcony. She stood with arms crossed and her back against the wall. The full moon shone on her face. Her eyes were wet. I didn’t speak.

“I waited until you were gone, then picked up the bag of groceries and walked after you. I worried I had lost you until I saw you at the bar. Courage failed me, though, and I walked back to the hotel. I thought I should wait for your return, but I knew that would be too late. I had to go to you.”

I walked to her and she turned to me.

“I am afraid of loneliness, Thomas, but loneliness flees when you are near. It flees now.” Her eyes were heavy with tears.

I felt tenderness for Sasi, but sorrow and regret for myself. How could I have let things come this far? How could I have left myself so vulnerable? Why hadn’t I walked away from her when I had the chance? If I had not stopped at the kickboxing bar, if I had continued to Walking Street, if, if, if. So many ifs. So many possible paths. So many possible pasts. How many futures had I embarked upon through my choices? Life would be easier without the twists and turns, false roads, and dead ends. My entire adult life had been a continual search for the true path to the love my parents had shared. Instead, I had scrambled blindly through maze after maze, each one stacked atop the other and mashed down until every turn ended in disappointment, every twist ended in another crushed dream, every exit an entrance to another chasing of my own tail.

The warm breeze carried the muffled sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below. I wished I were back at sea. There, I would be surrounded by five thousand men like me, their only concerns food, work, sleep, and not being blown into the sea by jet blast. Life was simpler at sea.

“I don’t know what to say, Sasi.” I sought for words to express the feeling behind the pulsing in my temples. “I’m glad you came after me. I knew as I walked away that a bond was established between us. I questioned the feeling and – I shouldn’t say this – felt a similarity with the day I met Susanna.”

I gripped Sasi’s arms and held her. She gazed intently, expectantly, at me, tears rolling to the tips of her eyelashes where they hung, stretched, then dropped away. I didn’t want her to cry.

“I have wandered lost in love since Susanna died. We were going to have a life together.” I didn’t want to cry. “We were born in love, Sasi, and we spent our lives waiting for each other. When we met, we knew, we knew we had found the one we were born to love. Born to marry, to grow old with, to die next to in old age. When I held Susanna, the world ceased to exist and we were alone, completely alone, as though the only two people created. When she looked in my eyes, I could have lived without air, without bread, without water. I needed nothing, I wanted nothing, I had nothing, because Susanna was everything. Her touch thrilled me the way lovemaking does when you find yourself between passion and ecstasy and you feel the breath of God waft through your soul and you understand, you realize, you know at last that she is the precious gift whose name is imprinted on your heart.”

Sasi was crying, but her eyes held mine. My grip tightened and I knew I was hurting her.

“Thomas. Thomas. I’m so sorry.”

“We were cheated, Sasi. We were cheated. We didn’t have a chance to marry. We didn’t have a chance to grow old together. We didn’t even get a chance to die together because I wasn‘t with her when she died!”

Passion gripped me. I ripped the necklace from my neck and held it up. The moon’s light reflected from the medallion, the rubies, the engagement ring. Tears blurred my vision and my voice caught in my throat.

“This. This. This is my mother’s medallion. She died giving birth to me. Her death broke my father’s heart. This is Susanna’s engagement ring. She died when our love was still in its infancy. I knew her for a fraction of the time we should have had together. It isn’t fair, but then life isn’t fair is it?”

I let go of Sasi’s arms. She rubbed them where my hands had been.

“I’m afraid to love you Sasi. I’m afraid to love you and lose you. It seems the men in my family are doomed to kill the women they love. If I don’t go now, you will die too, and I don’t want to love you if that is our future.”

“Tom. Tom.”

I left then. Her cries tore at my heart but my own heart beat loud as passion surged and ebbed, surged and ebbed. I knew I was going to love Sasi. I knew she was the one. But I couldn’t bear to love her with the passion and ecstasy I had had with Susanna and then lose her. I couldn’t take the pain. Not again. I couldn’t take the pain of Sasi, Susanna, my father, and my mother upon my shoulders. I wasn’t a God who moved pieces around on a chess board with whatever whim he felt. I was a man whose heart broke the same way in grief and love.

11 thoughts on “A Wished-For Love, Chapter Twenty-Two

    1. Thank you! Part of my absence is the honey-do list, and part rewriting the novel in first person past POV. It was always intended to be somewhat autobiographical, so the new POV should make it more personal.


    1. I’ll have to come back to that after I finish this round of editing. They’re just falling in love so there’s a lot of sweet silliness, but I don’t want it to come across as saccharine. You’ve pointed that out before – keep on me!

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Wow! What a difference, Will! Love the first person versus third person. Now I hear you even more in your writing. But boy, you have a lot of editing to do. So fun reading a chapter of your novel again:-)

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’ll have to come back to that after I finish this round of editing. They’re just falling in love so there’s a lot of sweet silliness, but I don’t want it to come across as saccharine. You’ve pointed that out before – keep on me!


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