Chapter 5: Love Triangle

At Treephat’s art gallery, still in the midst of interior renovations and nearing its grand opening, the young woman sat upright in a sleek black leather chair. She had just closed her laptop after a long online meeting, her sharp, beautiful face still reflecting the seriousness of making a critical decision about the new marketing strategy.

Her voice was steady and authoritative.

"Thank you, everyone, for your ideas and dedication. The marketing team can begin implementing this plan immediately. For those who need budget approvals, please gather your documents and send them to me before the weekend. Also, ensure that all the necessary details are filled out in the Excel file."

Those were her final instructions before she offered her thanks and officially ended the meeting. Treephat let out a long sigh of relief as the day’s workload finally came to an end.

She stood up and walked over to a watercolor painting on an easel beside her desk. The painting was the product of a restless mind, one unable to shake the image of a certain someone from her thoughts.

Though the painting remained incomplete, if her close friend Nicha were to see it, she would undoubtedly tease Treephat right away.

Because the figure in the painting was none other than… Rinlada.

Still lost in her thoughts, Treephat didn’t notice the faint, chilling shift in the air behind her.

The spirit of La-Orduen began to materialize silently, her form devoid of the charred scars that had marred her previously. Her delicate arms, still bound by endless chains, reached out and encircled Treephat in a ghostly embrace from behind.

The touch was light, almost tender, but Treephat felt nothing at all.

"No matter how many lifetimes pass, I remain nothing more than an invisible breeze in P'Phiengwad's eyes."

La-Orduen's trembling voice carried her pain, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. For hundreds of years, she had waited, enduring the agony of watching Phiengwad—the woman she loved with all her heart—be reborn in each new lifetime. In this life, she had returned as Treephat. La-Orduen could only watch, torn between anger and fear, dreading the day when Phiengwad and La-Orchan would inevitably find each other again.

And now, that dreaded day had arrived. Phiengwad and La-Orchan had reunited in their new lives as Treephat and Rinlada.

Even as a spirit bound by centuries of hatred and vengeance, La-Orduen had tried everything to keep them apart. Yet, destiny was an unstoppable force. At the temple, within the sacred confines of the chapel, Treephat had met Rinlada. La-Orduen had witnessed the moment but was powerless to interfere, unable to cross the sacred boundary that shielded the chapel.

How much longer would she, a spirit shackled by the chains of her own vengeful oath, have to endure this torment?

Every night, La-Orduen cursed La-Orchan. She cursed her twin sister to suffer, to reap the karmic punishment for her betrayal in their past lives. The pain of those memories was seared into La-Orduen's soul, and no passage of time could ever bring her forgiveness.

"No matter how many lifetimes pass or how many centuries go by, You will always love La-Orchan more than me. You are so cruel to me, P'Phiengwad,"

La-Orduen murmured, her voice quivering with anguish and bitterness.

She tried to embrace Treephat tightly, desperate for even a fleeting sense of warmth from the woman she had loved for centuries. But Treephat shifted slightly, her body reacting instinctively to the discomfort, even though she was entirely unaware of La-Orduen's presence.

Defeated, La-Orduen released her phantom embrace and watched helplessly as Treephat walked out of the room, indifferent and oblivious. Left alone, still bound by heavy chains on her wrists and ankles, La-Orduen turned her gaze toward the painting that Treephat had left behind—the unfinished image of Rinlada, the woman she despised most.

Fixing her eyes on the painting, La-Orduen’s lips twisted into a wicked grin.

"If I can't stop you two from loving each other, then I'll tear you apart with death," she hissed, her tone dripping with venom.

Her vengeful gaze bore into the painting, and in an instant, black flames erupted across the canvas. The fire consumed Rinlada’s image with terrifying speed, leaving nothing behind—not even ashes.

…

Treephat stepped out of the art gallery, her mind swirling with restless thoughts. The growing longing for Rinlada became an undeniable force, pushing her to make an impulsive decision. Without hesitation, she got into her car and drove out of Bangkok, heading straight for Ayutthaya.

The sleek Porsche came to a stop in front of Sattaya Antique, Rinlada’s renowned antique shop.

Treephat paused, staring at the beautifully adorned storefront with its aged wooden decor. Her heart raced, a mix of excitement and anxiety surging within her. She had planned to ask Rinlada out for a meal, but now that she was here, she had no idea how to start the conversation.

Suddenly, the door to the shop opened, and Rinlada stepped out. Clad in a simple yet elegant casual outfit, her delicate features radiated surprise. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw Treephat.

“Khun Lin! What brings you here?” Rinlada asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Treephat froze for a moment, her mind completely blank as if every coherent thought had been pulled from her head. Gathering her composure, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind—something that, in hindsight, she would consider the silliest thing she’d ever said.

“I had some errands nearby,” she began, trying to sound as normal as possible, “so I thought I’d stop by and invite you to make merit at the temple with me.”

Rinlada blinked in surprise, then let out a soft laugh. “I’ve never heard of anyone inviting someone on a date by suggesting a temple visit, Khun Lin.”

Treephat’s face flushed, her embarrassment rising as she silently berated herself for intending to suggest lunch but somehow ending up here.

“And if you’re this much of a merit-making enthusiast,” Rinlada teased with a playful grin, “please don’t give me an amulet for Valentine’s Day. Flowers would be much better.”

“Uh… I—” Treephat stammered, at a complete loss for words.

Rinlada leaned in slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just joking, Khun Lin,” she said with a light laugh.

She seemed to enjoy teasing Treephat, who stood awkwardly, her cheeks burning. Sensing the need for a change in direction, Treephat quickly asked, “So, would you be free to join me?”

“Honestly, I’m pretty busy with work,” Rinlada replied, feigning seriousness. She glanced at Treephat’s slightly disappointed expression and smiled gently before continuing, “But sure, I’ll go. I’ve been meaning to make merit too.”

She paused for a moment, leaning closer to Treephat as she added in a playful whisper, “But I wouldn’t call this a date, Khun Lin. It’s just two people making merit and visiting a temple together.”

Rinlada’s words left Treephat struggling to suppress a wide smile. While it wasn’t an official date, she felt a sense of hope blooming—like a subtle beginning to something meaningful between them.

…

After finishing their prayers, Treephat and Rinlada walked toward the riverside, where people often released birds or fish as part of a traditional Thai merit-making ritual. A cool breeze brushed past, and gentle ripples danced across the water’s surface. The tranquil atmosphere was interrupted only by the sound of passing boats. Despite the serenity, Rinlada hesitated. Her steps slowed, uncertainty clear in her movements as she approached the riverbank.

“Khun Aey, is something wrong?” Treephat asked, her voice tinged with concern as she noticed Rinlada’s unusual behavior.

Rinlada pressed her lips together tightly before responding in a soft voice. “I... I’m afraid of the river. When I was a child, I almost drowned. My mother found me just in time.” She paused, then added, her voice trembling slightly, “And I can’t swim, either.”

Treephat nodded in understanding. “It’s okay. I’ll release the fish for us. You can wait here.”

With that, she made her way carefully to the water’s edge. Under the golden sunlight reflecting off the river, Treephat released the fish gently into the flowing current. Once finished, she returned to Rinlada, who stood waiting beneath the shade of a large tree.

Rinlada’s gaze never left Treephat as she walked back. Memories of her dream from the previous night resurfaced vividly in her mind—the face of Phiengwad, a woman in traditional Thai attire who bore an uncanny resemblance to Treephat, and the faces of two other women, La-Orchan and La-Orduen, who looked just like herself.

Should she tell Treephat about the dream?

The question lingered in Rinlada’s thoughts, her indecision showing plainly on her face. Treephat noticed immediately.

“Khun Aey, is something on your mind?” Treephat asked gently.

“Well... I…” Rinlada hesitated. She wanted to share the strange dream but feared Treephat might think she was being irrational.

In the end, she decided to keep it to herself. “It’s nothing,” Rinlada said with a soft smile before quickly changing the subject. “Shall we sit here and rest for a bit before finding something delicious to eat?”

“I’ll go along with whatever you want, Khun Aey,” Treephat replied with a warm smile.

Rinlada looked deeply into Treephat’s eyes, then teased lightly, “Do you say that to every woman, Khun Lin?”

“I only say it to you, Khun Aey.”

The reply made it almost impossible for Rinlada to suppress her smile, though she kept up her playful tone. “Really? With how good you are at indulging women, I bet everyone around you must be falling for you.”

Treephat smirked slightly before responding with earnestness, “And have you fallen for me yet, Khun Aey?”

That question caught Rinlada off guard, causing her cheeks to flush a soft pink. She quickly looked away, changing the subject in her fluster. “I think we should go grab lunch now.”

“Of course,” Treephat replied, her smile lingering. She could tell Rinlada was embarrassed, but she didn’t press further.

However, as Treephat stood, her vision blurred, and the world around her spun violently. Without warning, her legs gave out, and she collapsed.

“Khun Lin!!”

Rinlada’s panicked voice rang out as she rushed forward to catch Treephat. She managed to hold onto Treephat’s limp body, her heart pounding with fear.

The last thing Treephat saw before her vision faded completely was the large tree overhead. Then, everything went black.

.

.

As the memories of the past began to sharpen into focus,

.

.

Beneath the dense shade of a towering tree, its thick branches sprawling overhead, Phiengwad and La-Orduen slowly poured the water used for their merit-making ritual over the tree’s roots. The two women exchanged glances, and Phiengwad’s warm, tender smile radiated with gentle kindness. Meanwhile, La-Orduen’s smile carried a quiet joy, one that seemed to bloom gradually within her heart.

This meeting had drawn the two closer. The reserved and composed La-Orduen, who once seemed as still as a tranquil river on their first encounter, now revealed a softer, sweeter side that was endearing in its own way. Her smile appeared more often, a sight that Phiengwad couldn’t help but admire.

“It’s such a pity that La-Orchan couldn’t join us for the merit-making today,” Phiengwad remarked with a soft sigh, her gaze drifting wistfully around their surroundings. Deep down, she still longed to see La-Orchan, the younger twin, more than La-Orduen.

“She’s fallen ill after playing in the water,” La-Orduen replied with a faint, resigned smile. “I’ve often warned her that her swimming isn’t strong enough and that she shouldn’t play in the rivers and canals. But La-Orchan never listens.” Despite her words, her expression reflected genuine concern for her younger sister.

“In that case, I could send some medicine and herbs from my household to La-Orchan. Do you think that would help, La-Orduen?” Phiengwad offered with a voice as soft as her expression, filled with sincere care. Deep down, however, she harbored a private wish to visit their home herself—so that she might see La-Orchan in person.

"That won’t be necessary, P'Phiengwad. I wouldn’t want to trouble you," La-Orduen politely declined, though her words faltered when Phiengwad gently raised her delicate hand to brush away a stray lock of hair from La-Orduen’s face.

“You didn’t tie your hair up today,” Phiengwad remarked softly. “I think if you let it flow freely like this and push it behind your shoulders, it might help ease the heat a bit.”

Her voice was tender, and as she spoke, she reached for a flower she had picked earlier, tucking it delicately into La-Orduen’s dark, flowing hair. The pure white of the bloom contrasted beautifully against her ebony tresses, enhancing her beauty in an unparalleled way. The gentle gesture brought a faint smile to La-Orduen’s lips, though her heart raced uncontrollably beneath her calm demeanor.

“In two days, Father and my elder brother will return from their duties,” Phiengwad began with a warm smile. “I thought I might prepare garlands to welcome them home. If you’re free, La-Orduen, I’d love to invite you to my home. We could sit together, weaving garlands and chatting. It would be a lovely way to spend the day.”

La-Orduen’s face lit up with delight as she replied, “Of course, I’d love to.” Her expression was filled with happiness, though the smile didn’t linger for long.

“Don’t forget to bring La-Orchan along,” Phiengwad added with her usual gentle tone and a kind smile. “It would be nice to have everyone together. I think we’d have plenty to talk about.”

But those words caused La-Orduen’s smile to fade gradually. A subtle frown crept across her brow before she quickly adjusted her expression, hiding any sign of displeasure.

Why must she invite La-Orchan...?

The thought echoed in La-Orduen’s mind, but the flicker of annoyance remained buried beneath the surface, undetected by Phiengwad.

...