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“Neighbors, I’m still on the fence about them.” – Jarod Kintz

“A neighbor can be your best friend or your worse enemy.” -Yours truly

Hi my name is Nalin or you can call me Bua. Three years is not long enough to forsake that face. Cheeky bastard. Just when my life is starting to look up- I mean I’m practically due for a promotion at work- creative director is within my grasp!- but I’d see his face at the elevator, after 3 years no less, and he has the gall to call me wifey? That water has far long been under the bridge.

What is he doing here anyway? Shouldn’t he be in America? Married with children? Dammit, his smiling, taunting face is the last thing I need. It never has done any good for me, that face. I got my life together after our divorce- don’t worry even that marriage was a sham to appease his grandma- which his family is the only redeeming quality of this man. Grannie loved me, everyone knew she was a cheer leader for us- so we married when she got on her last leg of illness, then divorced right after her funeral. He couldn’t high tail out of the home that borders mine, fast enough. We grew up as friends, neighbors. But now he’s the last person I want to see.

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I’ve made a promise to myself that I would never marry for someone else. It’s going to be about me now. Bua Bua Bua. I’m still marriage material but this time, my future husband is going to be someone that people write poetry’s about: caring, sweet, contribute to society, reads the paper and drinks coffee. My guy would bring me a rose everyday. I’m not selling myself short this time. I deserve it.

So dammit, what is Kob doing back in Thailand? Is this a joke? But he’s standing before me like the arrogant, bastard that he is. Asking for taxi fare money, like nothing has changed in that three years time, as if we were the same Kob-Bua duo. Smiling before me like we have a secret that only we are privy to. But I got news for him, this new and improved Bua has worked too hard to be where she’s at, to allow a nonsensical, troublemaker like him to take her down.

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Hell, who am I kidding? He’s still as gorgeous as always. I’m always weak when it comes to him. It’s just not fair.

I should focus my energy on Khun Din. Thinking about him makes me blush. He could be my walking, talking dream man. He’s successful (brother to the CEO of the advertising firm I work for) and he speaks very nicely to everyone. He oozes culture.

Nai Kob (it’s what I call him when I’m really angry) tells me that he’s opening his very own architect firm in the same building as my company. We are going to be neighbors at all waking and sleeping hours?! That’s more than I can fathom.

So I’m just going to pretend I don’t care. Perhaps if I say it enough, I’ll believe it too? I’m going to take the high road and ignore him, stay away from him. Whatever his intentions are in returning to Thailand, it has nothing to do with me. That is one winding road, even I am not willing to take.

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