Chapter 7 That terrible man, indeed.

Chapter 7 That terrible man, indeed.

“That’s how it was. Luckily, I found it in time,” Jetanipat said with a smile.  

“Yes, very lucky,” Ladapha replied, exhaling in relief that he didn’t press further or seemed suspicious. Anyone else might have questioned how such a mix-up happened or speculated about who could have taken it.  

“Um… are you free this evening?” she asked hesitantly. “I’d like to treat you to dinner as a thank you.”  

Jetanipat glanced at his watch with a small smile. He wasn’t the one who found her belongings—it was his boss. Returning them was simply part of the task assigned to him.  

“Unfortunately, I have plans tonight. How about another time?” he replied politely.  

“Of course, that’s fine!” Ladapha answered quickly.  

“Let’s exchange numbers, then,” Jetanipat suggested, handing her his phone.  

She nodded and entered her number without a second thought before handing it back to him. He dialed her number immediately.  

“That’s mine,” he said with a grin as her phone lit up. “I’ll call you when I’m free, and we can plan something.”  

“Alright,” Ladapha said, smiling back as he stood to leave.  

“Well, I’ll be going now. Take care,” Jetanipat said, giving her a polite nod before walking away.

Ladapha watched Jetanipat leave before standing up herself. She sat back down, picked up her phone, and saved his number from the recent call list.

“Oh no, I forgot to ask his name…” she muttered, staring at the screen. After a moment’s thought, she decided to save the number with something simple and memorable for now.

“This will do,” she said with a small shrug.

After saving the contact, Ladapha dialed her elder sister.

[Chom! Why didn’t you pick up the house phone? Did you find your phone?]

Her sister’s voice boomed through the line, making Ladapha pull the phone away from her ear slightly.

“Yes, I found it,” she replied. “I was calling to ask if you’re coming home for dinner tonight.”

[Nope, I’ve got plans with friends.]

“Good, because I didn’t feel like cooking anyway,” Ladapha said, grabbing her glass of water and taking a sip.

[All right, got to go. Talk later,] her elder sister said hurriedly before hanging up.

Ladapha stared at her phone for a moment, baffled by the abrupt end to the call, then let out a sigh. Gathering her belongings, she left the coffee shop and headed home.

Nearly an hour passed as Ladapha wandered around the shops. She only bought a few essentials, mindful of the dwindling balance in her account. She knew if her job hunt dragged on, her elder sister might send her back home to live with their parents. Sighing heavily, she scanned the area for a place to eat before settling in a small restaurant to dine alone.

Meanwhile, Tharatchanan shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting left and right as she sat through dinner with Sarunphat and his mother. The upscale restaurant was luxurious, the food renowned for its exquisite flavors, yet every bite felt bitter, making her stomach churn.

She kept her head down, quietly eating, unwilling to speak or acknowledge the suffocating tension at the table. Truthfully, this situation didn’t warrant a forced marriage. But with Sarunphat’s mother taking the lead and dictating the terms, Tharatchanan had decided not to protest. After all, his family wasn’t just well-off, they were extraordinarily wealthy.

Though love wasn’t part of the equation, she thought to herself, “If we keep to ourselves, I can live with this arrangement.”

What else did she have to lose? Her ex had already cheated on her, lost her first time to a stranger, and endured enough heartbreak for a lifetime. This marriage wouldn’t bring any more misfortune—she had already reached rock bottom.

“Alright, then it’s settled,” Lapasrada announced, wiping her mouth with a napkin. She ignored the displeased expression on her son’s face entirely. “As for you,” she continued, turning to Tharatchanan, “we’ll begin the formal engagement process soon. In the meantime—”

“Um, right now, I’m only living with my younger sister,” Tharatchanan interrupted, lying swiftly to avoid giving away too much about her personal life.

“And you’re other relatives?”

“I don’t have any,” she replied quickly, her tone firm.

“Mother...” Sarunphat finally interjected, his voice tinged with frustration.

“Then let me handle the wedding arrangements,” Lapasrada said firmly, cutting off her son without hesitation. Deep down, she wasn’t particularly thrilled with the woman sitting before her—she had hoped to marry off her only son to someone from a family of equal social standing. But that dream had proven difficult, as Sarunphat had repeatedly refused to attend matchmaking meetings and often acted in ways that embarrassed the family. This time, she felt a stroke of luck. While the woman’s background wasn’t ideal, it wasn’t entirely unacceptable.

“Um… alright,” Tharatchanan agreed hesitantly, going along with the conversation but dreading the complications that might follow.

“If that’s all, I’d like to excuse myself,” Sarunphat said abruptly, standing from his chair.

“Then take your fiancée home,” Lapasrada said, her tone calm but her gaze commanding. It was clear her words were not a suggestion, but an order.

“Oh, no need. I can get home on my own,” Tharatchanan interjected quickly, trying to avoid the awkwardness of riding with him. But in the end, she found herself seated in his car.

The drive was filled with silence, broken only by her occasional directions. She sat stiffly, staring out the window, while Sarunphat focused on the road. As the car turned into the narrow street leading to her house, he paused.

Another car was parked in front of the gate.

Tharatchanan’s eyes widened in shock, her body trembling uncontrollably. She knew that car all too well—it belonged to him.

That awful man…

Her chest tightened, but she forced herself to take a deep breath. Turning to Sarunphat, she gave him a strained, overly sweet smile as though nothing was wrong.

“Thank you,” Tharatchanan said quickly as she turned to open the car door. But—

“Is that your ex?” Sarunphat’s voice stopped her mid-motion.

She froze before turning back to him. “He was, yes. Why?”

“No reason,” Sarunphat replied curtly, his tone rising slightly. He said nothing more, watching as she exited the car.

Once she was gone, he glanced toward the car parked in front of her house. He knew—there were still lingering feelings between her and that man. Smirking slightly, he leaned back in his seat, thinking it might work to his advantage.

Tharatchanan walked toward the gate, ignoring the familiar car entirely, even as its owner stepped out and approached her.

“Rak, wait! Can you talk?” Art called out, hurrying toward her and grabbing her arm.

She whipped around, her eyes flashing with anger, and immediately yanked her arm free. “Take your filthy hands off me!”

“Just listen to me, please!” he pleaded, desperation lacing his voice.

She scoffed, her glare filled with contempt. “What’s left for you to lie about now?”

“Rak, why are you talking to me like this?” Art protested, clearly frustrated.

“Why?” she retorted, her tone sharp and bitter. “After everything I’ve done for you—after all those years of staying loyal and trying to be better for you—you betrayed me!” Her voice quivered with restrained fury. “Just go. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

The young man steadied himself and met her eyes. “Rak, I’m sorry. Please give me a chance to explain. It’s not what you think.”

“Enough,” she replied, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “It’s over between us.”

“What you saw in that restaurant—it wasn’t like that at all!”

Tharatchanan let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, really? But what I did see was you in bed with her. And you’ve been with her for an entire year behind my back. That’s what you call honesty?”

He faltered, his confidence crumbling under her words.

“Don’t come here again,” she said coldly, her voice steady and firm. “Don’t make me despise you even more.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked into the house, leaving him standing there, stunned and silent.

Inside, she found Ladapha sprawled comfortably on the sofa, watching TV with a bowl of snacks in hand. Her relaxed posture made Tharatchanan sigh with envy. Must be nice, she thought, shaking her head at her sister’s blissful ignorance of the storm outside.

“Back already?”  

“Mm,” Tharatchanan responded with a low hum, setting down her bag before sinking onto the sofa next to her sister.  

“What’s wrong? Why do you look like that?”  

Tharatchanan let out a heavy sigh at the question, unsure how to put everything into words. The frustration and doubts about the arranged marriage weighed heavily on her. She could have refused the proposal earlier, but her lingering resentment and disappointment had kept her from speaking up.  

“I don’t know,” she muttered.  

“Is it about art?” Ladapha asked casually, still focused on the TV. “He came by earlier. He was looking for you, but I told him you weren’t home. Not sure if he’s left yet.”  

Tharatchanan sighed even louder this time, saying nothing.  

Ladapha stretched, finally turning her attention to her sister. “You’re staying up to watch this, right? If not, don’t forget to turn it off.”  

“No, just turn it off,” Tharatchanan replied tiredly.  

Ladapha shrugged, switched off the TV, and unplugged it before heading toward her room.

“All right, I’m off to bed. You should sleep soon too.”  

Once her sister had disappeared down the hallway, Tharatchanan remained on the sofa, lost in thought. It was nearly half an hour before she finally pushed herself up and trudged to her bedroom, the weight of her emotions following her every step.