Difficulties in life begin simply, then grow ever more beautifully complicated!
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Kangsadan was having breakfast when her grandmother suddenly asked,
"What kind of dowry is that supposed to be? What did you say to make him believe you?" The old woman's eyes were sharp, almost piercing.
"He probably believes me," Kangsadan replied lightly.
"What? Tell me everything!"
"He might believe I'll stay with him for the rest of my life," the young woman said, smiling faintly.
"Oh? Are you afraid I'll give away that bucket?" Grandma pointed toward the one in the kitchen.
"Not at all. At this age, what's there to be ashamed of?"
"At least he won't think I raised you wrong."
"Grandma! That's cruel!" Kangsadan laughed, walking over to pat her grandmother's hand while clearing the dishes.
"I'll keep it, so I can take care of you later," she added softly. She never thought of doing anything for herself — she only wanted to repay the woman who had raised her.
"I just worry…" Grandma murmured.
"Thinking too much only leads to suffering," Kangsadan said gently, unwilling to dwell on what he had told her the night before.
"You could be mistreated, you know that?"
"Grandma, what are you afraid of? You'll be there too. We'll both move into his house."
Grandma only muttered under her breath while Kangsadan took the dishes to the sink.
A notification chimed from her phone. She ignored it, until the device started ringing.
"Hello, Aunt Uma. Sorry, I haven't checked my messages yet."
"Try on the gown tomorrow, dear. We've adjusted it to fit you perfectly!" The older woman's voice was bright and eager.
"Vishpan asked me to find a photographer for you," she added with amusement.
… … … …
The next morning, Kangsadan read Vishpan's message. He would pick her up and take her to the bridal studio.
"I want to find somewhere beautiful to shoot outside the studio," he said in the car.
"Do you know any place?"
"I don't…"
"Your relative's wedding had some nice spots. Let's use the same place."
"I don't see why that's necessary."
"Oh? Don't you want to keep the photos as memories?"
"Why would I? I'm only a hired bride."
"The contract didn't say you can't have photos," he teased.
"Mr. Vice President, please stop trying to make things awkward. I'm embarrassed enough as it is."
He smiled faintly. "Why are you embarrassed? I haven't done anything wrong."
"Absolutely wrong! Don't irritate me."
Before she could say more, he gently took her hand, giving it a light squeeze — a silent warning not to continue in front of the driver.
After the photo shoot, Kangsadan insisted on returning home, refusing to take any more pictures.
In the car, Vishpan messaged her again — he didn't want the driver overhearing.
"Can I ask you something personal? Have you ever had a boyfriend?"
"Of course. Many," she teased.
"Are you still together with any of them?"
"Why?"
"I just don't want any misunderstandings."
"About what?"
"You're my wife in name, after all."
"Exactly. Why?"
"Anyway, I'll tell you tomorrow."
He noted down the time — 3 p.m., dinner with his family.
… … … …
That evening, Vishpan greeted her grandmother politely, chatting about small things. Some questions left the old woman confused. While Kangsadan went upstairs to get her bag, she heard their conversation.
"Please take care of my granddaughter. She's not very tidy."
"Well then, should I take a rod to spank her with?" he replied, laughing.
Grandma joked.
"Of course. As long as she doesn't hit you back."
… … … …
Following him into the large, elegant living room, Kangsadan met an elderly woman seated in an electric wheelchair. Her gaze was cold and distant — not the kind that welcomed respect.
"What's your last name?" the woman asked sharply.
"Vongsudthi," she answered quietly.
"Your grandmother's name is Lamduan, isn't it?"
"You know my grandmother?"
"I know her very well," the old woman said, her tone dripping with disdain.
"Vish, when did this happen?"
"Almost two years ago."
"I never saw you dating anyone."
"She was introduced by an old friend of mine while I was abroad."
"Are you sure you didn't just bring her here to please me?"
"No, Grandma."
"Before this, weren't you dating a foreign girl?"
"Yes…" He glanced at Kangsadan.
"Then why didn't you bring her back?"
"We broke up before I returned."
"Daisy was your uncle's choice. Why didn't you go with her?"
"I don't think she understood me."
"Oh… I thought she looked far better than anyone else." Her tone was deliberately cruel, but Kangsadan remained calm. She knew her place — she was hired, nothing more. Whatever game Vishpan played to deceive his family was none of her concern.
"So, where does that leave this girl?"
"No one's being replaced," he said firmly. His tone made his grandmother fall silent.
… … … …
On the way home, he said softly, "Don't mind her words."
"I don't, Mr. Vice President."
"One thing," he corrected with a small smile. "Call me Vish."
For the first time, his voice wasn't commanding; it was almost gentle.
When they reached her house, he handed her a small box.
"Open it when you're home," he messaged.
"You don't have to look so suspicious," he chuckled.
"What are you trying to tempt me with this time, Vish?" She said his name for the first time.
"If I could buy you, I'd have done it long ago," he said lightly.
"Then why are you marrying me?" she shot back.
"Alright… don't make me do anything foolish again," he said with a half-smile.
"It's still awkward," she murmured.
"Should I kiss you to fix that?" His tone turned teasing.
"Was that in the contract too?"
"Of course."
She sighed. "My life's starting to get complicated."
"Life always begins with difficulties," he replied quietly, his gaze distant. "But it's the way they grow — beautifully complicated — that makes them worth living."