The tiny stuffed rabbit sat beside her bed like a secret memory.

Every time she looked at it—she smiled unconsciously.

And every night before sleeping, Ploy still sent the same message.

Ploy:

Reached home?

Ananya:

Yes.

Ploy:

Eat properly.

Ananya:

You too.

Ploy:

Miss you already.

Ananya:

You saw me one hour ago.

Ploy:

Still.

Those small conversations slowly became the safest part of their lives.

—

But happiness rarely arrives alone.

Sooner or later—fear always follows.

—

Three days after the night market incident, Ploy was called unexpectedly to her father’s office.

The atmosphere felt wrong immediately.

Too quiet.

Too formal.

Her father stood near the large glass windows overlooking Bangkok city.

Cold.

Unreadable.

Ploy forced calmness into her voice.

“You wanted to see me?”

No answer immediately.

Then—

“Who is she?”

The world stopped.

Ploy’s heartbeat crashed painfully against her ribs.

Slowly, her father placed several printed photographs on the table.

Photos.

Her and Ananya.

Holding hands.

Laughing together.

Looking at each other too softly.

Too lovingly.

Ploy’s fingers trembled instantly.

The man from across the street.

He followed them.

Her father’s voice remained frighteningly calm.

“You embarrassed this family for a café worker?”

The sentence cut deeply.

Not because of anger.

Because of disrespect.

Ploy immediately looked up.

“Don’t speak about her like that.”

Her father’s eyes darkened slightly.

“So it’s true.”

Silence.

Ploy tried to breathe properly.

“She’s a good person.”

“A good person?”

He laughed coldly.

“This is not about goodness.”

“Then what is it about?”

“Reality.”

That word again.

Always reality.

Always society.

Always family reputation.

Ploy’s chest tightened painfully.

“I love her.”

The confession escaped before fear could stop it.

Silence filled the office instantly.

Heavy silence.

Dangerous silence.

Her father stared at her for several seconds.

Then quietly—

“You will end this.”

Ploy felt tears burning immediately.

“No.”

“You don’t understand what people will say.”

“I don’t care.”

“But I do.”

His voice finally rose.

For the first time, fear entered Ploy’s eyes.

Not fear of punishment.

Fear of losing Ananya.

Her father stepped closer slowly.

“You are my daughter.”

Tears rolled down Ploy’s cheeks now.

“And she is the first person who ever made me feel emotionally alive.”

That sentence shook even him slightly.

Because it came from genuine pain.

Real pain.

But still—

his expression hardened again.

“You will stop meeting her.”

“No.”

“Ploy.”

“No.”

The word came softer this time.

Broken.

Desperate.

“I can’t.”

—

That evening, rain poured heavily across Bangkok again.

As if the city itself understood heartbreak.

Ploy drove directly toward the café with shaking hands.

The moment Ananya saw her face—she knew something terrible had happened.

Without hesitation, she rushed toward her.

“Ploy?”

Ploy immediately hugged her tightly.

Too tightly.

Like someone afraid the world was about to steal something precious away.

Ananya’s heart dropped instantly.

“What happened?”

Ploy buried her face against her shoulder silently.

Then weakly—

“He knows.”

Everything froze.

Even the rain outside suddenly sounded distant.

Ananya slowly pulled back just enough to look at her.

“Your father?”

Ploy nodded.

Tears continued falling quietly.

“He had photos.”

Ananya felt cold instantly.

Fear crawled painfully through her chest.

Not for herself.

For Ploy.

Always for Ploy.

“What did he say?”

Ploy laughed weakly through tears.

“That I embarrassed the family.”

Ananya looked down immediately.

That hurt.

More than she expected.

Ploy noticed instantly.

“No—Ananya—”

“It’s okay.”

But her voice sounded painful.

Because deep inside—she suddenly remembered reality too.

She was:

* foreign

* middle class

* ordinary

And Ploy came from a powerful wealthy family.

The difference between their worlds suddenly felt enormous.

Ploy gently held Ananya’s face carefully.

“Don’t do that.”

Ananya looked up silently.

“Don’t distance yourself emotionally because of what he said.”

Tears formed in Ananya’s eyes now too.

“I don’t want your life to become difficult because of me.”

Ploy’s expression broke completely.

“You are not a burden.”

Her voice trembled.

“You are the happiest thing that ever happened to me.”

That sentence destroyed Ananya emotionally.

Because she felt exactly the same.

They stood there quietly holding each other while rain blurred the city outside.

Two hearts trying desperately to protect love from the world already reaching toward it.

Then softly—Ananya whispered,

“What do we do now?”

Ploy closed her eyes painfully.

For the first time since falling in love—she truly didn’t know the answer.