Even the expensive lights looked emotionless to Ploy.

As she entered the house, silence surrounded everything.

No warmth.

No comfort.

Only pressure waiting quietly behind luxury walls.

A maid approached carefully.

“Your father is waiting in his office.”

Ploy closed her eyes briefly.

Every step toward that room felt heavier than the last.

—

Inside the office, her father sat calmly reviewing documents as if nothing had happened.

As if his daughter’s heart wasn’t slowly breaking apart.

Ploy stood silently near the door.

“You wanted to see me.”

He removed his glasses slowly.

“Yes.”

No anger in his voice this time.

That somehow felt worse.

He gestured toward the chair opposite him.

“Sit.”

Ploy obeyed quietly.

Her father studied her for several seconds.

Then finally—

“I spoke with the Wattanakul family today.”

Ploy frowned slightly.

“What?”

“Their son recently returned from London.”

Her heartbeat stopped instantly.

No.

No no no.

Her father continued calmly,

“They’re interested in arranging a meeting.”

The room suddenly felt difficult to breathe in.

Ploy stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re talking about marriage?”

“I’m talking about your future.”

Tears immediately burned behind her eyes.

“My future already matters to me.”

His expression hardened slightly.

“You are confused emotionally right now.”

“No.”

“You are.”

For the first time, frustration entered Ploy’s voice.

“Why does everyone act like love between two women is some temporary mistake?”

Silence.

Heavy silence.

Her father leaned back slowly.

“Because life is not built only on feelings.”

Ploy laughed weakly through pain.

“And what kind of life is built without them?”

That question lingered painfully in the room.

But neither had answers the other could accept.

—

Meanwhile, across Bangkok—Ananya sat alone inside her apartment staring at her phone endlessly.

No messages yet.

No calls.

Only silence.

The tiny stuffed rabbit rested beside her on the bed.

A painful reminder of happier nights.

Finally—her phone vibrated.

Ploy.

Ananya answered immediately.

“Ploy?”

For several seconds, only quiet breathing came through the call.

Then softly—

“He wants me to meet someone.”

Ananya froze completely.

Every fear she had tried to ignore suddenly became real.

Painfully real.

“A man?”

Ploy laughed weakly.

“Apparently rich families solve emotional problems with arranged marriages.”

Ananya closed her eyes tightly.

Her chest hurt.

Actually hurt.

Not jealousy.

Not insecurity.

Fear.

Fear of losing the person who became her entire emotional world.

Ploy’s voice trembled softly.

“Say something.”

Ananya forced herself to breathe properly.

“What do you want?”

Silence.

Then immediately—

“You.”

That single word shattered Ananya emotionally.

Tears rolled down her cheeks instantly.

Because love sounded most painful when spoken honestly.

—

Later that night, Ploy drove toward the café again.

She needed to see Ananya.

Needed reality.

Needed warmth.

Needed the only place her heart still felt understood.

When she entered, Ananya was already waiting near the window.

The moment their eyes met—both immediately understood how exhausted the other felt.

No words first.

Only silence.

Then slowly—Ananya walked toward her.

And Ploy broke.

She wrapped her arms around Ananya tightly while tears escaped uncontrollably.

“I’m tired,” she whispered shakily.

That sentence hurt more than dramatic crying ever could.

Ananya held her carefully.

Like holding someone emotionally falling apart piece by piece.

“You’re okay…”

“No, I’m not.”

Ploy laughed weakly through tears.

“I’m starting to hate mornings because every new day brings another fight.”

Ananya’s eyes filled immediately.

Because she felt helpless.

And helpless love is one of the most painful things in the world.

They sat together quietly near the café window while rain started falling outside again.

Bangkok looked blurry beneath the storm.

Ploy rested her head against Ananya’s shoulder weakly.

Then softly—

“Can I ask you something selfish?”

Ananya gently stroked her hair.

“Anything.”

Ploy’s fingers slowly intertwined with hers again.

“If one day…”

Her voice trembled.

“…my family forces me to choose…”

Ananya’s heartbeat became dangerous instantly.

Ploy looked up with tear-filled eyes.

“Would you hate me if I became weak?”

That question destroyed something inside Ananya.

Because suddenly—she realized Ploy wasn’t afraid of losing love anymore.

She was afraid of failing everyone she loved at once.

Family.

Parents.

Ananya.

Herself.

Ananya carefully held Ploy’s face between her hands.

“No.”

Tears rolled silently down both their cheeks now.

“I could never hate you.”

Ploy closed her eyes painfully.

“Even if I hurt you?”

Ananya’s voice broke slightly.

“You already love me respectfully.”

Then softly—

“And people who love respectfully never become villains in my heart.”

That sentence shattered Ploy completely.

She leaned forward and buried her face against Ananya’s shoulder again while crying silently.

Outside, thunder echoed across Bangkok skies.

And inside the quiet café—two hearts held each other desperately while life slowly prepared to test how much love could survive against the weight of family, society, and sacrifice.