Chapter 9: Patcharawee Sutthakorn

The next morning, the soft sizzle of a hot pan echoed from the kitchen of the small house. The mouthwatering aroma of cheesy egg toast filled the air, prompting a wide-eyed reaction from someone who had just entered—like she'd stumbled upon something out of a dream.

Tawan had never touched the kitchen in the morning before. More importantly, she had never cooked for anyone.

"Huh... It must be snowing in Thailand today," Narin muttered to herself, then called out loudly and without hesitation. "P' Tawan is cooking! Something’s definitely off today."

Tawan glanced sideways at her sister and let out a long sigh. "Are you eating or not? If you are, then zip it."

Despite being scolded, Narin was unfazed. She walked cheerfully toward the dining table and let out another dramatic exclamation.

"Whoa! Three plates of cheesy egg toast? You definitely made these for your beloved little sister and Khun Praemai, didn’t you? You’re being suspiciously sweet today, sis~"

Tawan raised an eyebrow at her sister and playfully shot her a glare. "Keep talking, and you won’t get any."

But Narin wouldn’t stop so easily. She grabbed a cushion to use as a booster seat, rested her chin on her hands, and stared at her sister with knowing eyes.

"Aren’t you going above and beyond your duties as a 'caretaker' lately?"

Her tone was teasing, but in her eyes, she noticed something different about Tawan. The gentleness she usually kept hidden was slowly starting to show.

"Something good happen yesterday while you were bringing her home? Come on, tell me."

"Nothing happened," Tawan replied quickly, her voice firm—but her cheeks had turned a subtle shade of red without her realizing it.

Narin let out a soft chuckle, then shifted to a more serious tone.

"So, what’s going on with you and Patcharawee now?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Because I want to know. Or to be blunt... I’m nosy," Narin said with a deadpan face before quickly adding, "But if I want to sound polite, let’s just say I care about you."

Tawan sighed quietly before answering in a calm, flat voice.

"Still waiting, like always. I don’t even know what Wee wants anymore. She’s not a friend, not a girlfriend. But she won’t make a decision."

Narin frowned, clearly annoyed on her sister’s behalf.

"I think you should stop waiting for Patcharawee... You’ve waited for years, haven’t you? I think she’s taking advantage of you. Never giving you clarity. You should just go after Praemai! She’s single now. I’m totally shipping you two. Let me be your number one fan!"

Before Tawan could respond, the sound of the door opening gently echoed through the kitchen, followed by soft footsteps.

"What are you two up to?"

Praemai’s voice chimed in as she entered, dressed in comfy sleepwear, a soft smile gracing her lips.

Narin turned quickly and flashed a mischievous grin, answering sweetly on her sister’s behalf.

"P’ Tawan woke up early to make you breakfast, Khun Praemai~ Super thoughtful! She usually doesn’t cook for anyone."

"Narin!"

Tawan called out in a low voice and immediately reached over to cover her sister’s mouth. Then she turned to the newcomer with a tense smile.

"Join us for breakfast, Praemai. After that, let’s go out shopping for some clothes today..."

...

The soft clinking of hangers blended with upbeat K-pop playing in the background of a Korean-style boutique tucked inside a small mall.

Praemai Wisutpaisarn strolled leisurely through the store, browsing the racks of clothes with a relaxed, dreamy look in her eyes. Her fingers lightly skimmed over fabrics as she admired each outfit with quiet delight.

Trailing behind her in silence was Tawan Attanon—today acting as the "reluctant shopping companion." One hand clutched several shopping bags, while the other swiped through work emails on her phone with focused intensity.

As Praemai continued browsing, her mind began to drift.

She thought about the three friends who used to color her life—people bound together not by depth of emotion, but by a shared lifestyle. Their daily conversations had once revolved around brand names, luxury events, and carefully curated photos meant to impress the world.

There was Camila, the fashion-obsessed daughter of a luxury goods importer, who breathed high-end labels like they were oxygen.

Max, the party-loving playboy with a flair for gossip—always the first to know everything and charming enough to say the right thing to anyone, even those he secretly couldn’t stand.

And Lily, the rising actress with flawless angles for every camera. She collected friends based on social status, hoping her connections to the elite would help elevate her image to dazzling new heights.

...And now, not a single one of them had messaged or called to ask how she was doing—not since the day Woraphot Wisutpaisarn announced that Visuth Tech Group had gone bankrupt.

Maybe those friendships were never built on real affection. Maybe they were just held together by wealth and mutual benefit.

And when those things vanished... so did the reason to stay.

Praemai let out a quiet sigh before picking up a beige blazer and draping it over her arm. She turned to call out to the person silently following behind.

“Hey... you.”

Tawan looked up from her phone, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Hm?”

“I think... I’m going to find a job.”

That simple sentence made Tawan freeze for a moment. She immediately put her phone away and turned fully toward Praemai.

“Are you serious?”

“I am,” Praemai nodded slowly. Her voice was calm but firm.

“I want to earn my own money. So I can take care of myself—and Dad. And if possible... I want to try reviving Visuth Tech Group.”

There was not a flicker of hesitation in her eyes—only the steady glow of determination.

Tawan studied her in silence. She had never seen this side of Praemai before. It was both surprising... and admirable.

A soft smile tugged at her lips before she realized it.

“In that case... why don’t you come work with me? There’s still an open position at my company. I’d definitely hire you.”

But Praemai gently shook her head, offering a faint smile.

“Thank you, but I’d like to try on my own first. I’ve never had a proper job since graduating. Let me prove myself—just once.”

Tawan looked at her for a moment longer, then held up the dress in her hand as a silent reply.

“So... what kind of position are you thinking of?”

“I looked at some job apps last night. I’m leaning toward Account Executive. It sounds doable. The job involves communication, negotiation, and coordination. Plus, my English is decent. I think it suits me.”

She gave a small shrug, half teasing.

“But I’m still debating whether to apply in Bangkok or somewhere closer to your place. The commute alone is two hours round trip... and I don’t even have a car.”

Tawan raised an eyebrow, then handed her the dress properly.

“If transportation’s the only issue... you can use my car.”

Praemai paused, visibly taken aback. She stared at Tawan in disbelief.

“Whoa. You’re being unusually nice. What’s going on? Did seeing me cry the other night make you feel sorry for me or something?”

Tawan went quiet for a beat, unsure how to answer.

Praemai let out a light laugh.

“Don’t pity me, okay? I’m the kind of person who—if I’m going to be sad, I’ll let myself feel it all the way. But after that, I’ll get up and keep going. I don’t sit around in sorrow. I don’t stay stuck.”

Tawan’s gaze softened, her expression subtly shifting.

“Are you sure you’re really Praemai Wisutpaisarn?”

“The one and only.” Praemai grinned, her eyes shining with resolve.

“To be honest, I am sad about breaking up with P’ Sasi. But after talking to Dad last night... I don’t even know why I should keep being sad anymore.”

She paused briefly, then added, “I gave everything I had to that relationship for two years. That’s enough. Now it’s time for me to start again.”

Tawan stood still, not just surprised by what she’d heard, but genuinely moved. There was something quietly inspiring about it—something that crept into her chest before she could stop it.

Because while her own relationship with Patcharawee still hung in limbo—undefined and unresolved—the woman in front of her was growing, brave enough to face the truth, and choosing to move forward without looking back.

It was the complete opposite of herself.

She couldn’t move forward.

She wasn’t strong enough to step back.

Maybe... it was time.

Time for her to make things “clear” with Patcharawee once and for all.

Whatever the answer turned out to be, she knew this much—it couldn’t be left hanging anymore.

Tawan still remembered the first time she met Patcharawee.

It was at a major FinTech and investment seminar held the year before—an event that brought together experts, analysts, investors, and startup founders in the financial sector from all over the country.

Tawan had attended the seminar as the founder of "Noonnam," a financial planning and investment platform designed for underprivileged workers and people with limited access to traditional investing.

But the person who caught her eye wasn’t one of the keynote speakers or fellow entrepreneurs. It was a woman standing on stage representing a leading securities firm.

Patcharawee Sutthakorn.

Elegant in a tailored suit, with sharp words and a composed confidence, she was the head of economic analysis at one of the top firms.

Tawan had looked at her with genuine admiration.

Patcharawee was the kind of woman Tawan aspired to become—strong, intelligent, decisive, and unapologetically herself.

Their first exchange began as a simple conversation about platform visions.

But that conversation soon evolved. From business ideas to worldviews. From discussing strategies to sharing dreams.

Tawan could still recall that she had been the one to speak first.

She had been the one to ask for clarity.

She told Patcharawee... that she liked her, that she wanted something more than just friendship.

But what she received in return wasn’t a yes—or a no.

Only the words:

"I do like you, Tawan, but... let’s just keep talking as friends for now."

Back then, Tawan nodded with understanding. She believed she had the patience to wait.

What she didn’t realize was how fragile the word "wait" could be.

One month passed.

Then three.

Then six.

...And now, a whole year.

The relationship she had once hoped would become clearer had only grown more blurred.

Not closer. Not farther.

Just stuck.

In the same place.

Alone.

.

.

But sometimes... fate has a cruel sense of humor.

After taking Praemai shopping for clothes and necessities, Tawan received a strange message from an unknown number. It was a photo—one that looked like Patcharawee lying next to someone on a bed. Although the image only showed the shoulder of the other person, it was enough to send a chill through Tawan’s body.

The caption beneath the photo was brief:

"Wee is cheating on you. Just leave her."

Tawan froze for a long moment, trying to steady herself. Then she sent the picture back to Patcharawee, along with just a few simple words.

...And that was how they ended up meeting the next day.

Tawan sat in a small café in downtown Bangkok, slowly stirring the matcha latte in front of her. Her eyes drifted toward the street outside.

She wasn’t angry with Patcharawee, but peace of mind was nowhere to be found.

The soft chime of the doorbell pulled her from her thoughts. Patcharawee walked in, her expression calm, though her eyes quickly looked away the moment they met Tawan’s gaze.

After ordering her drink, she sat down across from Tawan. Silence fell between them instantly.

Patcharawee let out a deep sigh before speaking in a hushed voice.

“It’s all my fault... I’m sorry, Tawan.”

“So the photo really was of you?”

Patcharawee pressed her lips together, then slowly nodded.

“Yeah... it was me. That’s why I wanted to apologize for everything. Everything I’ve ever done.”

Silence returned.

Patcharawee took a deep breath, bracing herself to continue.

“I’m sorry... for making you wait all this time. The truth is, I realized within the first three months that I only saw you as a friend. But you were such a good person—too good for me to push away—so I let you keep waiting. Waiting in a place where, deep down, I knew... we were never going anywhere.”

She closed her eyes briefly, then looked back at Tawan.

“I’m sorry... I was being selfish.”

Tawan remained still, her eyes filled with disappointment—not from unrequited love.

She had already made peace with that.

What hurt was how Patcharawee had kept her waiting in ambiguity, knowing full well that it would never go further.

Even so, with the years and experiences that had shaped her, Tawan knew anger or resentment wouldn’t ease the pain. So she chose forgiveness, offering it as a friend.

“It’s okay, Wee...” she said softly, offering a faint smile. “You’ll always be my friend.”

And that only deepened Patcharawee’s guilt. She reached out and gently clasped Tawan’s hand.

There was a vulnerability in her that Tawan had never seen before.

“There’s one more thing, Tawan...”

Her voice was barely a whisper, laden with guilt.

“I got back together with my ex... and I used your name. I told her that you were my fiancée.”

Tawan was stunned.

“I just wanted to hurt her... I didn’t think she’d send those pictures to you.”

Everything suddenly made sense. The person who had sent those mysterious messages and photos... was Patcharawee’s ex-girlfriend.

But who was she?

Who was that woman?

.

.

Tawan sighed. In the end, it didn’t matter whether she knew her name or not. Whatever feelings she had once held for Patcharawee had already reached their end.

"Thank you, Wee, for being honest with me."

Tawan’s voice was calm and steady—like she was drawing a line under this chapter of their lives, closing the door on whatever had been lingering between them for too long.

Patcharawee fell silent for a moment before speaking up in a soft voice.

"Tawan... are you mad at me? It’s okay if you are. Just... please don’t hate me."

Her eyes brimmed with guilt, as if she feared losing the very last thing left between them.

Tawan gave her a faint smile and shook her head gently.

"I'm not mad. And I don’t hate you either."

She paused briefly, then continued, her voice tender and sincere.

"I understand you, Wee... I really do."

Patcharawee’s expression softened instantly, like someone who’d finally been released from the weight of regret.

But even so... Tawan’s words—“I understand”—didn’t mean she could go back to where things once were.

Because some relationships, once broken, don’t need to be fixed.

Sometimes, all you have to do is learn from them, walk away, and carry nothing with you.

And that... for Tawan, was the truest form of forgiveness.

…