The right time for love

After a decade of bumping into one another while following separate paths, a friendship and then shared heartbreak over the loss of loved ones, Paul Ah Kuoi and Danyel Simich found true love, writes Jenna Moore.

Sometimes doing things back to front works out beautifully, and in ways that could never have been anticipated. Such was the case with Auckland-based couple, Danyel Simich and Paul Ah Kuoi, who turned a long-standing casual friendship into an intimate mutual support network, fell in love, became parents, and then exchanged engagement rings.

It all began in 1990: Danyel was 27 years old, a sophisticated girl-about-town, focused on her media design career; Paul was just 19, happily ensconced in a new relationship with his 17-year-old girlfriend and starting his second year of a Bachelor of Commerce degree at Auckland University.

The pair met when Danyel began seeing a good friend of Paul’s. “I met Paul’s mate when I was out dancing at a nightclub and we became friends,” she recalls. “It wasn’t a serious relationship: we just spent time together. I was at a stage in my life where I wasn’t looking for any sort of commitment. I was just interested in different experiences and in having a good time.”

In those days, Danyel and Paul’s friend spent much of their socialising time with Paul and his girlfriend. “Paul was always there in the background,” says Danyel. “I used to look at him and think, ‘typical – the nice ones always have girlfriends’.”

“I was impressed by Danyel,” says Paul. “She was the queen of the high street – glamorous and she always dressed well – ‘classy business’, I’d call her style then. I thought she was very attractive, and she was a woman. She was in her twenties and a lot older than the rest of us.”

When Danyel’s casual relationship ended, Paul and Danyel also went their separate ways. He and his girlfriend carved out a long-term relationship, and were an item for 12 years. “We were engaged: we bought a house and an investment property but somehow, never got around to getting married,” says Paul.

In the meantime, Danyel was travelling the world, working in advertising and design and enjoying her independence. “I was earning decent money; I bought an apartment and I had various boyfriends,” she recalls. “I lived with one boyfriend for six or seven years, after which my sister came and lived with me. During that period, Paul and I lived totally separate lives.”

As Danyel reached her late thirties, however, she started to feel as if something was missing from her life, so she invested in her much-loved toy poodle, Lolly. “I needed some responsibility,” she says. “In 2000, I’d started my own design business, and was doing really well. I had lots of free time, but it all seemed to be about me. I was becoming too selfish for my liking.”

Then one night, halfway through 2002, she ran into Paul in a bar. “I was amazed when I saw him: the first thing I said was, ‘Pauly, look at you – you’re a man!’” laughs Danyel. “He wasn’t a teenager anymore. He was bigger than I remembered: well-built and gorgeous. Twelve years before, he’d been tall but more wiry.”

“I was really pleased to bump into Danyel that night,” says Paul. “I’d thought of her occasionally and I’d had this vision that she’d be married with children, but it wasn’t the case.” In the time they’d spent apart, however, Paul had been burned. “My twelve-year relationship had finished and I’d quickly tripped over another liaison that lasted just nine months,” he recalls. “I’d been hit twice in a short period and was shying away from any association.”

In the course of their catch-up conversation, Danyel found out that Paul worked just down the road from her apartment. “So when he drove past every morning, we’d wave to each other,” she says. “Then one day, I was crossing the road and a car pulled up. I looked in at the guy driving and thought, ‘Wow, he’s gorgeous – oh, it’s Paul!’” Later, she found out that Paul had bought tickets to a Randy Crawford concert but had been too nervous to ask her to go. “So he took an old friend,” she laughs.

“Not long after, I bumped into him again. He said, ‘When are you going to ask me on a date?’,” remembers Danyel. “It’s my way to be jovial, and I didn’t think she’d say yes,” says Paul. “But she said, ‘Are you serious?’ And I said, ‘Yes’. We swapped numbers and Danyel was supposed to call me the next day.”

Danyel didn’t call: she’d been involved in a minor car accident damaging her phone in the process, so she couldn’t call at the agreed time – though once she got a replacement, she phoned.

That first real date hadn’t eventuated, but their friendship began to blossom. “We started spending time together – watching movies, going out to dinner – but we weren’t in a relationship,” says Danyel. “We were both seeing other people, though not in a serious way.”

“Our first get-together was a coffee date,” remembers Paul. “Danyel was dressed immaculately and I was in ripped jeans and a sloppy joe. It’s funny: I wasn’t trying to impress her and there was no stress to be on ‘date behaviour’.” “We were just ourselves – and we’re still like that now: we’re just happy to hang out with each other,” says Danyel.

“Then, about three years ago, I went through some hard times in a relationship, and I’d talk to Paul about my problems,” she recalls. “I went away in a last-ditch attempt to try to sort things out, but it didn’t work. One day, I was watching my then-partner’s interaction with his daughter and I thought, Paul would be better at that – he’d make a great father. It was weird I’d think like that, because I’d never really thought of having children.”

As Danyel was leaning on Paul for support, he was delivered his own bombshell. His older brother, Afi, then 41, told the family he was going to die of cancer. “I was by Paul’s side to help him through that time,” says Danyel. “Then my grandmother became ill. I used to live with her, so we were very close.”

As the days of heartache went by, Danyel and Paul drew closer. “Earlier, we’d had what you could call ‘sleepovers’ but it was nothing sexual: just a comfort and friendship thing,” says Paul. “During that hard time, we sort of progressed – kissed and cuddled and became intimate – but there was no major moment. Probably because we felt so ‘normal’ and relaxed with each other from the very start, our relationship just kind of evolved.”

“We became a ‘couple’ but didn’t really declare it,” says Danyel. “Afi and Grandma’s illnesses made us think a lot and accelerated our relationship. We grew very close in a short time.”

One night, things took a dramatic leap forward. “We knew Afi and my grandmother were going to die any minute, so we were talking about the meaning of life,” remembers Danyel. “I looked at Paul and said, ‘Why don’t we have a baby?’. It was very strange – it just came out of my mouth – and I never say things like that.” “But what’s even stranger is that I agreed,” smiles Paul.

“He could have laughed it off but he didn’t – he said ‘yes’,” recalls Danyel. “We were both a bit stunned, but we never changed our minds or got cold feet, and we were able to tell Afi that we’d decided to have a baby together before he died.”

Within a month, both Afi and Danyel’s grandma had died. “We didn’t start trying right away, or tell anyone apart from Afi till we were pregnant,” says Danyel. “Then I said, ‘Now we’re having a baby, we’d better move in together’. It was quite surreal.”

Danyel and Paul both had their own homes, but they chose to live at Paul’s because it was larger of the two. By September 2003, Danyel was pregnant: their first son, Kaemon, was born in June 2004. In early 2005 Danyel suffered an early miscarriage, but three weeks later, found she was pregnant again: Kairo was born in October 2005, when she was 42. Danyel and Paul call Kaemon and Kairo their ‘fruit salad children’. “Paul is quarter Chinese and three-quarters Samoan. I have European, Croatian and Maori blood,” says Danyel. “There are rumours Paul is related to Queen Victoria, and Kaemon has unusual green eyes that could be to do with the mix.” As legend goes, Queen Victoria and John Brown, her close companion after Prince Albert died, had an illicit child who was exiled to the Pacific. “My grandma’s name was Mary Brown,” says Paul. “But no-one will ever know the true story!” laughs Danyel.

After producing two children in as many years, is one planned for this year? “We don’t think so,” they chorus. “Two’s a good number – and I’m so glad we’ve got two little boys,” says Danyel.

In keeping with their tradition of doing things the untraditional way, Danyel and Paul have just exchanged diamond rings. “I thought after having two children, I deserved a ring,” smiles Danyel. “I thought Paul deserved one too, so we both got one. It’s a bit back-to-front, but I’ve always been unconventional.”

“It’s amazing we’re now a family,” says Danyel. “It never crossed our minds in the old days that we’d end up together.I’d often say to Paul, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if we had a photo of us in those days?’ And then one day, much to our amazement, my sister, who’s a photographer, found a Polaroid she’d taken of us together in 1990 or 1991. It is a very precious thing to have.”

Their lives have merged like pieces of a puzzle. They share the same taste in music; and have discovered they have similar taste in décor, too. “When we moved in together, our things fitted together quite seamlessly,” says Danyel. “But in other ways we’re opposite. Paul’s always been into sport and doesn’t touch alcohol; I’m interested in food, wine, art and books.” “Danyel watches rugby now, and I read the kids books,” quips Paul.

“It’s almost serendipitous,” says Danyel. “You live the life you think you should be living, and then you meet someone special and it all works out quite differently from what you’d imagined – but somehow, you know it’s right.”

 

Words: Jenna Moore. Photography: Andrew Lehmann. Hair & Make-up: Claudia Rodrigues.