Chapter 6: Sasina Thewapitak

That same afternoon, Narin brought Praemai back home. As soon as they stepped into the living room, Praemai spotted Tawan Attanon seated comfortably, sipping hot oolong tea with a slice of bread slathered generously with butter—clearly one of her favorite snacks.

The bread hadn’t been toasted, just thickly spread with enough butter to gently melt on its surface. Praemai couldn’t help frowning a little. To her, bread had to be crispy first—non-negotiable.

She found herself quietly observing Tawan’s odd little habits. She didn’t even realize how intently she was watching until—

She caught herself staring.

At that exact moment, Tawan looked up, her gaze landing squarely on Praemai. What she saw made her momentarily lose focus. Praemai was wearing her oversized white shirt, paired with denim shorts that revealed soft, fair skin—far more eye-catching than Tawan would’ve liked to admit.

She stared for a beat too long.

Internally, she scolded herself for it. But the more she tried to look away, the more her eyes drifted back to the girl's porcelain skin.

“Hey, P’Tawan,” Narin chirped as she bounded over and took a seat beside her sister, “I took Praemai to that shrimp-paste rice place in the market. You know the one.”

Tawan glanced briefly at Praemai, who was still lingering by the doorway, then brought her teacup to her lips in a practiced motion, her expression calm and unreadable.

“How was it?” she asked in a neutral tone. “It’s my favorite spot.”

Their eyes met briefly before Praemai gave a small shrug.

“It was fine.”

And with that, she turned and walked straight into the kitchen.

Tawan frowned slightly, watching her retreating figure. Something about her attitude was... mildly irritating. Or was it just the fact that she was being blatantly ignored? Either way, Tawan quickly tore her gaze away—just in time to stop herself from staring at those legs again.

A few minutes later, Praemai returned, carrying a plate of khao kluk kapi, complete with the full spread of toppings—exactly like the one she had earlier that morning.

She set the plate down in front of Tawan, her face unreadable.

“Someone told me you don’t eat breakfast,” she said flatly. Then, after a pause, added, “You’re thirty now. Maybe start taking better care of yourself? Skipping breakfast increases your risk of Alzheimer’s. You know that, right?”

The mention of “thirty” made Tawan’s hand freeze mid-air, teacup suspended halfway to her lips. Her sharp eyes flicked toward Praemai, clearly unamused, while the latter acted completely innocent and breezily took a seat across the table.

Narin, who had stayed quiet this whole time, watched their exchange with barely concealed amusement. A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips.

With this kind of energy…

This house was going to be very entertaining.

…

After Tawan finished the khao kluk kapi Praemai had brought her, she couldn’t help feeling a little... off. Surprised, even. For someone like Praemai—who didn’t exactly strike her as the thoughtful type—to go out of her way and buy food for someone else? That was unexpected.

Still, being as stubborn as she was, Tawan simply muttered a thank-you and pretended it was nothing. She stood up and motioned for Praemai to follow her upstairs.

“I’ve set up this room for you,” she said, opening the door. “The housekeeper only comes on Sundays, so today you’ll have to clean it yourself.”

Praemai looked around at the dusty room, lips pressed into a tight line. Then, she snapped.

“Are you serious?! I’ve never cleaned anything in my life, and now you expect me to do this? Are you out of your mind?!”

Tawan shrugged, entirely unfazed.

“You’ve got two options: clean this room, or go back to sleeping on the floor in my room.”

Praemai's face twisted in indignation. Her eyes flared like a child being forced to do chores. She grumbled under her breath—loud enough for Tawan to hear.

"I really shouldn't have brought her that damn khao kluk kapi."

Tawan heard it but chose to ignore her.

“One more thing. From now on, you’ll need to pay rent. And you’ll be splitting the utilities with me. You can’t just live here for free.”

Praemai froze. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and her face flushed red with something between shame and outrage. She stared at Tawan, speechless for a long moment, then finally exploded.

“Are you kidding me?! Visuth Tech Group went bankrupt! All my assets were seized! I walked out of that house with nothing. My credit cards don’t work, my bank accounts are frozen, I don’t even have a car—and I’m wearing your clothes right now! I’ve got practically no money left! How the hell am I supposed to pay anything?!”

Tawan replied with a blank expression, calm and unaffected.

“No money? Then get a job.”

Her voice was steady and clear.

“It’s about time you learned how to earn your own.”

The words struck Praemai like a slap. She opened her mouth to argue—but nothing came out.

Tawan sighed, her tone softening just slightly as she tried to explain.

“I have to work too. This house? I’m still paying off the mortgage. The car? Monthly payments. Welcome to real life, Praemai. Everything costs money. Everyone works to survive.”

Praemai stood there, stunned into silence. Then, without a word, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

Tawan watched her go, weariness flickering in her eyes, followed by a trace of guilt. She let out a long sigh. All she wanted was to help the girl grow up—but somehow, every time they talked, it turned into a fight.

Moments later, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed back, and the door swung open with force. Praemai marched back into the room, her face set in a scowl and a luxury handbag clutched tightly in one hand.

“This bag? Market value—nearly a hundred thousand baht,” she said sharply, thrusting it into Tawan’s hands.

“Consider it advance rent.”

Tawan held it for a second, then calmly handed it back.

“I don’t use designer brands. It’s pointless for me.”

Praemai huffed. She yanked out her wallet, rummaged through it, and began counting the cash in front of Tawan.

Nine 1,000-baht bills.

Nine 100-baht bills.

One 50-baht bill.

A total of 9,950 baht.

She shoved the cash into Tawan’s hand, voice tight with frustration.

“Cash. Nine thousand, nine hundred and fifty. That fifty’s there because I used my own money to buy you lunch, and I was stupid enough not to charge you for it. So yeah—this is all I’ve got left.”

With that, she spun around and walked out without another word. She didn’t look back once.

Tawan stood there, staring at the money in her hand. Then she sighed again—long, deep, and utterly exhausted.

...

Late in the afternoon, soft golden sunlight streamed through the bedroom window, casting a warm glow across Praemai’s skin as she clumsily swept dust off the floor of her new room.

The oversized white shirt she’d borrowed from her host was wrinkled and shapeless. Her usually immaculate hair was now hastily tied up with a lone elastic band. The broom in her hand moved in no particular direction, and her heavy footsteps thudded across the floor, as if she were stomping out her irritation with every step.

“Stingy Tawan…” she muttered under her breath while wiping dust off the vanity table.

“She’s seriously making me pay rent? I thought she was one of those decent people—helping someone in need without expecting anything in return. But no... just another tightwad.”

The last part came out in a low whisper, tinged with disappointment.

Her hand swept the dust more aggressively now, like she was punishing the furniture instead of the woman who owned it. Praemai still couldn’t understand how Tawan Attanon, the gentle older girl she once knew, had turned into someone so sharp-tongued and cold.

Eventually, the broom fell silent. She sank onto the edge of the bed with a weary sigh and wiped the sweat from her brow. Then she picked up her phone.

The screen lit up with a name she hadn’t closed out of since last night—Sasina.

Praemai stared at it for a long moment, heart thudding with uncertainty.

Should she call?

Sasi, or Sasina Thewapitak, heir to Sasin Pattana, one of the country’s top real estate empires.

More than just her girlfriend…

Right now, Sasina might be her only way out.

.

.

Praemai hesitated.

Maybe… if she told Sasina the whole story—about the collapse of Visuth Tech Group, about how she was now stuck living under Tawan’s roof, being charged rent down to the last baht—

Maybe Sasina could help. Maybe her family, with their vast real estate empire, could find a way to pull Visuth Tech Group out of the wreckage. Or at the very least… Praemai wouldn’t have to feel like someone else’s burden anymore.

But even as the thought crossed her mind...

Her fingers refused to move.

Her lips pressed into a thin, hard line as shame began to creep up, slow and heavy. And then, as if on cue, Tawan’s voice echoed sharply in her head:

“No money? Then get a job.”

It had sliced clean through her pride like a razor. And the worst part was—it was true.

Tawan didn’t want to carry someone like her. Someone who had nothing left except the shadow of who she used to be.

And Sasina?

Could she really tell her girlfriend the truth?

That Praemai Wisutpaisarn, once so full of confidence and certainty, had nothing left? No house. No company. No safety net. Not even a place of her own to call home.

“P’ Sasi...” she whispered, voice barely audible. She wanted to say more—but didn’t know how.

She’d never had to ask anyone for help before.

Whenever trouble came knocking, money always answered. And when you had money, someone else always took care of the rest.

But this time… that wasn’t an option.

She continued to stare at the screen. Her hands trembled slightly.

Before she could make a decision, her ringtone blared, making her jump. She glanced down at the screen—

Sasina was calling.

Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst through her chest. With a hand gone cold, she answered the call.

Sasina’s voice was as soft and composed as ever.

“Praemai darling, just checking—are we still on for our lunch at Le Jardin de Lune at three?”

Le Jardin de Lune.

The upscale French restaurant they used to frequent together.

Praemai had completely forgotten they’d made plans today.

“Yes! Of course,” she replied quickly, though her voice still shook a little. “See you there.”

Once the call ended, she remained seated on the edge of the bed, unmoving. She looked into the mirror and winced.

Her hair was a mess. Her cheeks were smudged with dust. Her shirt was wrinkled, her legs streaked with dirt from sitting on the floor.

She wasn’t even sure she could get herself cleaned up in time, let alone look like the woman Sasina remembered.

But more than that...

She wasn’t sure Sasina would still see her as Praemai—the woman she once admired, desired, and maybe even believed in.

Not if she found out…

There was nothing left of her.

...

Inside Tawan Attanon’s office (in the house) , a soft knock broke the silence.

Knock knock.

Tawan glanced away from her computer screen and stared at the door for a moment before answering in her usual calm, composed voice.

“Come in.”

The door opened slowly. Praemai stood there. They locked eyes, neither speaking at first, as if each was waiting for the other to break the silence. Finally, Praemai spoke.

“I saw you have two cars parked outside. Mind if I borrow one?”

Tawan raised an eyebrow, surprised, but her tone remained steady—almost parental.

“Where are you going?”

Praemai looked away, avoiding the question.

“Just… personal stuff.”

Tawan narrowed her eyes slightly. She didn’t press for details but also didn’t let it go.

“Do you even have a driver’s license?”

Praemai whipped her head back around, cheeks flushing with offense.

“Of course I do! What kind of idiot would ask to borrow a car without one?!”

Tawan responded coolly, voice edged with dry sarcasm.

“You just don’t strike me as someone particularly... responsible.”

“Plenty of people drive without licenses,” she added. “It’s illegal, but they still do it.”

“You’re unbelievable!” Praemai snapped, unable to contain her frustration. “That’s way out of line!”

But Tawan remained unfazed.

“You do know, right? In Thailand, even if a car has first-class insurance, if the driver is at fault and doesn’t have a license, the insurance won’t cover anything.”

Praemai clenched her jaw. Without another word, she stormed out of the room.

Less than two minutes later, the door swung open again. She returned, scowling, and marched right up to Tawan.

“Here!” she snapped, thrusting her driver’s license toward her. “Satisfied now?!”

Tawan took it without a word, glanced at it briefly, then gave a small nod. She silently reached over to the table, picked up a car key, and handed it over without comment.

The air in the room was thick with tension. Neither of them uttered the word “sorry.”

Praemai snatched the key from her hand without so much as a thank-you. She turned to leave—

But just before she crossed the threshold, Tawan gently caught her wrist.

Startled, Praemai turned back, wary.

Tawan didn’t say anything right away. She simply pressed a small stack of banknotes into Praemai’s hand.

“I never wanted your money,” she said softly, her tone even but sincere.

“I just want you to learn how to earn it yourself. That’s all.”

Praemai stared at the money in her hand. Her expression shifted—anger fading into something more uncertain. In the end, she didn’t say anything. She just kept the cash and walked out quietly.

A moment later, the door clicked shut.

Tawan remained standing there, unmoving, silently hoping that, maybe this time… Praemai would understand what she truly meant.

...

Inside Tawan’s bedroom

Praemai stood in front of the mirror, still wearing the same designer dress she’d had on since the day she arrived. The fabric was slightly wrinkled, but overall, it still looked decent—enough for her to step outside and face the world without feeling embarrassed.

She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. The confidence she once wore like a second skin felt… thinner now. She ran a quick hand through her hair, trying to neaten it, then grabbed her favorite designer handbag and walked out of the room with new resolve. Moments later, she slipped behind the wheel of Tawan’s car parked out front and pulled away in a hurry.

Unbeknownst to her, someone had been watching from a hidden corner of the house.

Tawan, eyes fixed on the departing vehicle, made a snap decision.

Without hesitating, she headed straight to her motorbike, grabbed her helmet, and started the engine with a sense of urgency.

“Hey! Where are you rushing off to?!”

Narin suddenly appeared, stepping right in front of the bike just in time to block her sister’s path.

“Oh my god, Narin—move!” Tawan groaned, clearly irritated. “I’m gonna lose her!”

Narin burst out laughing, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Wait, wait—are you seriously going to follow Praemai? Then I’m coming too! I love minding other people’s business!”

She didn’t wait for permission. In one quick motion, Narin hopped onto the back of the bike and clung to her sister’s shoulders like they were about to head out on an exciting road trip.

Tawan sighed, loud and long, clearly exasperated. But in the end, she gave in. She reached behind her, grabbed the spare helmet, and handed it to Narin.

“You know,” Narin began in a mischievous tone, “you’re kinda acting like a jealous girlfriend who’s about to catch her girlfriend cheating.”

“Will you stop exaggerating?” Tawan snapped, flustered. “I’m doing this because it’s my responsibility. Mr. Woraphot asked me to look after his daughter. That’s it.”

Her voice was sharp, but her cheeks flushed pink without her realizing.

“Sure, sure…” Narin teased with a smirk. “Absolutely nothing’s going on here. Got it. Now hurry up and follow her before she gets too far ahead!”

Tawan didn’t reply. She revved the engine and sped off down the road, her sister holding on tight behind her.

…