The Ghost in My House Was Me - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
You are reading The Ghost in My House Was Me, Chapter 9: Chapter 9. Read more chapters of The Ghost in My House Was Me.
Kevin won't take no for an answer. He circles the block, determined to find another hotpot place, even though it's late and most places have already closed.
By the time we finally get there, the restaurant is nearly empty—just a few stragglers finishing up their meals. The lively buzz of dinner rush is long gone, replaced by an awkward silence.
My stomach has stopped growling. At this point, I'm not even hungry anymore.
Tommy shuffles in behind us, still sulking after Kevin snapped at him earlier. His usual cheerful grin is nowhere to be seen.
Kevin, stubborn as ever, orders enough food to feed an army.
I pick at my plate, forcing down a few bites before setting my chopsticks aside.
Tommy clearly doesn't have an appetite either, but under Kevin's watchful glare, he doesn't dare stop eating. When he finally can't take another bite, he shoots me a pleading look, silently begging me to intervene.
I drop my gaze, pretending not to notice.
The table is painfully quiet.
Another ruined evening.
The waitress lingers nearby, pity in her eyes. She approaches hesitantly.
"Sir, we offer free takeout containers. If you'd like, you can pack the leftovers to enjoy later."
That's when Kevin finally explodes.
He slams his chopsticks down with a sharp clack, making Tommy flinch.
"If you don't wanna eat, then don't!" he barks.
Tommy exhales in relief, his cheeks still stuffed like a chipmunk's—pathetic and ridiculous all at once.
Needless to say, we don't take any leftovers home.
After dinner, Kevin drags me to a jewelry store, determined to make things right.
It's past 11 PM. Tommy, who's never been up this late, keeps yawning in the backseat.
But Kevin doesn't care. He has a plan.
He pulls up to a 24-hour jewelry shop, where a bored sales assistant picks at her nails behind the counter. With a dramatic sweep of his hand, he tells her to pick out a full set for his wife.
The assistant's eyes light up like she's just hit the jackpot.
Kevin turns to me, guilt written all over his face.
"After all these years, I still owe you a real wedding set."
We got married right after college—against our parents' wishes. There was no ceremony, no guests, no blessings. Just the two of us at a restaurant, sharing a quiet meal.
No ring. No fanfare.
But we didn't care. We were so in love.
I remember how he held me that night, crying into my shoulder, whispering over and over, "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you someday."
But back then, I wasn't disappointed.
Because I did get a ring.
The first year after we married, when Kevin's career finally took off, he used his year-end bonus to surprise me with one.
I'll never forget that winter night. Freezing cold, he came home exhausted, covered in dust, wearing nothing but a thin shirt. His coat was bundled in his arms like treasure.
Icicles clung to his lashes.
With a magician's flourish, he pulled out two roast ducks from inside his coat.
"Boss treated us in Beijing. They were so good, I brought some back for you."
I just stared at him, smiling.
He got flustered. "Why are you looking at me like that? Eat it before it gets cold!"
I took a bite—no idea if it was actually good. All I remember is bursting into tears.
He panicked, shoving a piece into his own mouth. "Is it that bad?"
I shook my head, still crying.
"You carried two whole ducks back from Beijing? Didn't your coworkers make fun of you?"
He spun in frantic circles before finally pulling out a ring from his coat pocket.
"I—I was gonna wait for your birthday. I couldn't just bring you ducks! Stop crying!"
I slipped the ring on, then kissed him.
"Stop spinning. You look ridiculous."
"The duck's delicious. I love you so much."
Seems like I've spent my whole life crying over him.
Crying because he loved me too much.
Crying because he stopped.
My tears revolved around him for years—until one day, they just ran dry.
By the time we finally get there, the restaurant is nearly empty—just a few stragglers finishing up their meals. The lively buzz of dinner rush is long gone, replaced by an awkward silence.
My stomach has stopped growling. At this point, I'm not even hungry anymore.
Tommy shuffles in behind us, still sulking after Kevin snapped at him earlier. His usual cheerful grin is nowhere to be seen.
Kevin, stubborn as ever, orders enough food to feed an army.
I pick at my plate, forcing down a few bites before setting my chopsticks aside.
Tommy clearly doesn't have an appetite either, but under Kevin's watchful glare, he doesn't dare stop eating. When he finally can't take another bite, he shoots me a pleading look, silently begging me to intervene.
I drop my gaze, pretending not to notice.
The table is painfully quiet.
Another ruined evening.
The waitress lingers nearby, pity in her eyes. She approaches hesitantly.
"Sir, we offer free takeout containers. If you'd like, you can pack the leftovers to enjoy later."
That's when Kevin finally explodes.
He slams his chopsticks down with a sharp clack, making Tommy flinch.
"If you don't wanna eat, then don't!" he barks.
Tommy exhales in relief, his cheeks still stuffed like a chipmunk's—pathetic and ridiculous all at once.
Needless to say, we don't take any leftovers home.
After dinner, Kevin drags me to a jewelry store, determined to make things right.
It's past 11 PM. Tommy, who's never been up this late, keeps yawning in the backseat.
But Kevin doesn't care. He has a plan.
He pulls up to a 24-hour jewelry shop, where a bored sales assistant picks at her nails behind the counter. With a dramatic sweep of his hand, he tells her to pick out a full set for his wife.
The assistant's eyes light up like she's just hit the jackpot.
Kevin turns to me, guilt written all over his face.
"After all these years, I still owe you a real wedding set."
We got married right after college—against our parents' wishes. There was no ceremony, no guests, no blessings. Just the two of us at a restaurant, sharing a quiet meal.
No ring. No fanfare.
But we didn't care. We were so in love.
I remember how he held me that night, crying into my shoulder, whispering over and over, "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you someday."
But back then, I wasn't disappointed.
Because I did get a ring.
The first year after we married, when Kevin's career finally took off, he used his year-end bonus to surprise me with one.
I'll never forget that winter night. Freezing cold, he came home exhausted, covered in dust, wearing nothing but a thin shirt. His coat was bundled in his arms like treasure.
Icicles clung to his lashes.
With a magician's flourish, he pulled out two roast ducks from inside his coat.
"Boss treated us in Beijing. They were so good, I brought some back for you."
I just stared at him, smiling.
He got flustered. "Why are you looking at me like that? Eat it before it gets cold!"
I took a bite—no idea if it was actually good. All I remember is bursting into tears.
He panicked, shoving a piece into his own mouth. "Is it that bad?"
I shook my head, still crying.
"You carried two whole ducks back from Beijing? Didn't your coworkers make fun of you?"
He spun in frantic circles before finally pulling out a ring from his coat pocket.
"I—I was gonna wait for your birthday. I couldn't just bring you ducks! Stop crying!"
I slipped the ring on, then kissed him.
"Stop spinning. You look ridiculous."
"The duck's delicious. I love you so much."
Seems like I've spent my whole life crying over him.
Crying because he loved me too much.
Crying because he stopped.
My tears revolved around him for years—until one day, they just ran dry.
End of The Ghost in My House Was Me Chapter 9. Continue reading Chapter 10 or return to The Ghost in My House Was Me book page.