Chapter 8: The New Praemai

Sasina approached her carefully, as if afraid she might shatter.

In her hand, she held out the check once more.

“You’re struggling right now,” she said gently. “Please take this… Think of it as compensation. For the two years I never truly gave you what you deserved.”

.

.

Praemai turned around and slapped Sasina hard across the face.

Smack!

The sound of palm meeting cheek echoed through the parking lot. Sasina froze, stunned, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Praemai stood in front of her, trembling from head to toe.

"Don’t use your money to buy my dignity."

Her voice was firmer than ever before. It was the first time she had dared to say such words aloud. In the past, she had always believed that money was everything—that it could buy smiles, respect, and even love from someone.

But today, the very thing she once relied on had become nothing more than a pitiful handout from the mouth of someone she had loved with all her heart.

It was both bitter and absurd at the same time.

"Praemai!"

Sasina’s voice cracked as her composure shattered in an instant.

"You’ve gone too far! I tried to help you... Have you forgotten how to say thank you?"

Her eyes flared with fury, lips trembling with rage. Then she let out the words she had been holding back for far too long.

"You really think you’re something special, don’t you? Let me tell you—everything you had, that luxurious life, was because of your father. Because of Visuth Tech Group. Without Woraphot Wisutpaisarn, who would even want to deal with a spoiled, selfish brat like you? You can’t do anything right! Born rich, but not a brain in that pretty little head!"

Every word Sasina spat felt like a dozen blades driving straight into Praemai’s chest. Her whole body shook, her eyes burning red with fury. She stepped forward, hand raised again.

But before it could land—

"That’s enough, Praemai."

A calm but firm voice rang out, and Tawan stepped in, placing herself between them just in time.

Praemai froze, her arm falling limply to her side. Her eyes widened as she recognized the voice.

"Y-you?" she stammered, lifting her gaze to meet Tawan’s.

Tawan shook her head gently, signaling her to stop.

Their eyes locked for a long moment, and slowly, Praemai lowered her guard—choosing to trust Tawan’s presence over her anger.

…

The long stretch of road cut through open fields as the sky dimmed into twilight. Streetlights flickered on one by one.

In the passenger seat, Praemai sat in silence, staring blankly out the window. The car was quiet, save for the soft hum of music playing faintly from the speakers and the gentle rhythm of two people breathing.

Tawan kept her hands firmly on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road ahead. Her beloved big bike had been left with Narin, along with a short, sharp command: “Don’t ask questions.”

Praemai tilted her head upward, eyes trained on the car ceiling as though willing herself to hold something in. Her teeth sank into her lower lip, her eyes refusing to blink. Still, tears clung stubbornly to the edges of her lashes.

Tawan said nothing, but she saw it all—the clenched jaw, the way Praemai’s lips pressed tight every time she tried not to cry.

Finally, Tawan turned the steering wheel and pulled into a small roadside gas station.

She drove past the mini-mart, heading for the quietest corner of the parking lot, then brought the car to a slow, silent stop.

Praemai turned to her, brows knitting together slightly in confusion.

“Why are you stopping?”

She tried to sound normal, but Tawan could hear the tremble in her voice.

Without answering, Tawan reached out and gently took Praemai’s hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. That touch needed no explanation. Then, in a voice softer than usual, she said,

“If you need to cry... then cry. I’ll stay right here with you. I promise I won’t look.”

With that, Tawan turned to face the driver’s side window, giving Praemai the space to finally let herself feel everything she had been holding in.

Those words... were like a key, unlocking a small, locked door within her chest.

The first tear fell soundlessly onto her hand, followed by another—and then a choked sob she could no longer contain.

Praemai lifted her hands to cover her face. Her crying grew louder, filled with pain, heartbreak, and despair over everything that had happened.

Tawan remained still, never once glancing her way. She kept her promise.

Time passed slowly. The sobs began to fade.

Only then did Tawan turn back. She saw the slender figure beside her still trembling. Quietly, without a word, she reached over and wrapped her arms around her.

Praemai shifted slightly, then leaned her head against Tawan’s shoulder like a lost child finally finding shelter—for the first time in days.

Tawan held her close, as if to keep her from falling apart any further. Even though… she had no idea what she meant to Praemai at that moment.

Maybe just a fellow traveler in this world… or maybe nothing more than a passing breeze Praemai wouldn’t even notice.

But that didn’t matter.

Tawan only knew one thing.

She never wanted to see this woman cry again.

…

In front of Tawan’s house, the engine went quiet as the headlights slowly dimmed into darkness.

In the passenger seat, Praemai was still asleep, her eyes gently closed. Her face looked weary, marked by exhaustion both physical and emotional. The faint puffiness around her eyelids—leftover traces of the tears she shed earlier—was proof enough of how difficult this day had been for her.

Tawan stepped out of the car and quietly walked around to the passenger side. She opened the door carefully and leaned in to look at Praemai. Her hand reached out instinctively, then stopped mid-air.

To Tawan, Praemai looked so fragile in that moment.

She hesitated, unsure whether she should wake her or let her rest just a bit longer.

Eventually, she reached out and gently brushed aside a stray strand of hair from Praemai’s forehead. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but her heart pounded louder with every passing second—louder than it should in a moment like this.

Then a sleepy voice broke the silence.

“Are we home already…?”

Praemai’s eyes fluttered open slowly, still clouded with drowsiness.

Tawan flinched and quickly pulled her hand back, her expression snapping back into composure in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah… we’re home,” she said calmly, turning her gaze away as if trying to hide something beneath the surface.

Praemai gave a slow nod, then raised her hand to rub her eyes before carefully stepping out of the car.

“While you were asleep… Woraphot, your father, called.”

Praemai’s brows furrowed slightly.

“My father…?”

“Yeah. I didn’t answer, just saw his name pop up on your screen. Don’t forget to call him back.”

Tawan’s tone was still short, flat, and distant.

With that, she turned and headed straight into the house without waiting for a reply.

...

Tawan was even more emotionally reserved than Praemai had expected.

Though she knew Tawan cared, she couldn’t help but be surprised by the way she expressed it. Like what happened earlier at the gas station: Tawan had let her cry in silence, offering no words of comfort.

It might have seemed like she was doing nothing. But for Praemai, it was a safe space. A space where she could finally let go without needing to explain herself.

Maybe this was how someone who struggled to express their feelings showed they cared. And somehow, it meant more to her than any soothing words.

Praemai smiled faintly to herself as the memory crossed her mind.

She had just finished her shower, towel-drying her damp hair in a careless rhythm, when something popped into her head—

Tawan had said, “Your dad called.”

She immediately grabbed her phone and hit redial. The call barely rang once before it was picked up.

“Did you call me earlier this evening, Dad?”

“Yes. I needed to talk to you,” came Woraphot Wisutpaisarn’s usual calm, even voice.

Praemai frowned slightly. “What is it about?”

“The Wisutpaisarn estate... It’s officially been seized by the bank.”

Her hand froze in the middle of drying her hair. Her eyes widened.

“I didn’t think they’d move so fast...” she murmured, the ground beneath her seeming to quake.

“I’m staying in a house Arthit arranged for me down south. The press won’t be able to find me there. As for you, you’ll have to stay with Tawan for the time being.”

Praemai fell silent. Her mind raced with confusion and unanswered questions.

She took a slow breath before asking in a quiet voice, “What about Niam, Non, and the other house staff?”

Her voice trembled slightly with worry.

“Now that Wisutpaisarn is gone... do they still have jobs?”

Her round eyes shimmered. Her chest ached at the thought of everyone in that house being left with nowhere to go.

“Niam moved back to her hometown to live with her son. Don’t worry. She’s doing fine,” Woraphot replied calmly.

“The other maids have gone their separate ways. Some are helping out at family shops, others returned to their farms. As for Non, I asked a friend to hire him as a driver.”

“I see... That’s a relief,” Praemai said softly, forcing a smile at his answers.

What she didn’t know was that every word out of Woraphot’s mouth was a lie.

In reality, everyone was still living at the Wisutpaisarn mansion. Even Woraphot himself hadn’t gone anywhere and continued staying in the same home, just as before.

Before she could ask anything else, his voice came through again, suddenly changing the subject.

“How’s it going with Tawan?”

The question caught her off guard. She paused, startled by her father’s mention of Tawan, before answering vaguely.

“It’s... it’s okay.”

“Hmm...”

His tone sounded slightly more satisfied, but he didn’t say anything further.

The line went quiet once more. It was the kind of silence that left too much room for thoughts to flood her mind.

Finally, she decided to speak.

Something she had kept to herself for far too long. Something she knew would likely earn his disapproval. But she couldn’t keep running from the truth.

“Dad... I broke up with P’ Sasi.”

Silence.

As soon as the words left her lips, the line fell quiet again—as if something invisible had snapped between them.

Praemai knew her father had never approved of her relationship with Sasina. Still, that didn’t make it hurt any less to be the one to finally say it.

“I told her about the company going bankrupt...”

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“And she broke up with me right after.”

There was a faint quiver in her voice. She tried her best to hold it together, but the heartbreak still clung to every word.

The other end of the line remained silent for a long time, long enough that she wasn’t sure whether to keep talking or stop.

Then finally, Woraphot spoke.

“I told you before, Sasina never truly loved you.”

Woraphot’s voice remained calm and composed, but every word he spoke landed with clarity, precision, and a truth that cut deeper than Praemai wanted to admit.

“I saw it the first time I met her. That woman didn’t fall for you... she fell for the name Praemai Wisutpaisarn. For the Visuth Tech Group that stood behind you.”

He paused, letting his words sink in, giving them space to echo inside his daughter’s heart.

“If Sasina really loved you, then even if you had nothing, she wouldn’t have left. Now you understand why I never wanted you to be with her in the first place.”

Praemai said nothing. She only lowered her gaze and gave herself a faint, wistful smile.

Her father’s words—once so cruel in her ears—no longer felt like an attack.

Now, they simply sounded like the truth.

Not just a truth that hurt.

But one that sobered her.

After ending the call with Woraphot, Praemai remained seated on the edge of her bed for hours.

She didn’t cry.

There were no tears.

No sobs.

Only thoughts that wouldn’t stop circling in her head.

.

“If Sasina really loved you, then even if you had nothing, she wouldn’t have left.”

“That woman didn’t fall for you... she fell for the name Praemai Wisutpaisarn. For the Visuth Tech Group that stood behind you.”

.

Woraphot's words hit Praemai like a wake-up call.

She had cried enough over Sasina.

And now... it was time to stop.

Praemai got up from her bed and picked up her phone. She opened her notes app and began typing with quiet determination:

Step 1: Earn enough to support myself.

Step 2: Earn enough to support Dad.

Step 3: Restore Visuth Tech Group to its former glory.

She stared at the words with a focus she'd never felt before. Then, she typed one final line—a promise, not just a note.

"Let’s start over, Praemai."

A faint smile touched her lips as she looked at her reflection on the screen.

And in her eyes…

There it was.

The first spark of the new Praemai—a woman rising on her own feet, with a heart no longer willing to break.

…