After the quiet intimacy of lunch with Santichai, KK returned to the brisk, sterile world of his office. He spent the remainder of the afternoon submerged in patient consultations, the weight of their physical ailments mirroring the emotional weight he carried for Santichai. It was five o'clock by the time the last patient departed, and the clinic began to settle into its evening hush.
As he was finishing his charts, his phone buzzed. It was his mother.
"KK, do you have time to look at the pictures I sent you?" Mrs. Suwannarat asked, her voice hopeful.
"I haven't had the chance, Ma," KK replied, his eyes tired from staring at medical reports. "I'll look when I have a moment."
"Dussadi and her boyfriend are coming over tonight," she continued. "Are you free for dinner? Your grandfather will also be here."
The mention of his grandfather hung in the air like a heavy curtain. KK adjusted his glasses. "Ma, thank you, but I'm still coordinating with the surgeons to schedule a procedure. I promised I'd visit once the schedule lightens up."
Mrs. Suwannarat knew the truth: as long as the family patriarch was at the table, KK would keep his distance. She didn't push. Instead, she passed the phone to his father.
"KK, take some time off," Mr. Suwannarat's voice boomed warmly. "If the workload is too much, hire someone to manage the hotel for you. It's all Dussadi's fault—I told her to go into business, but she had to become a hairdresser."
KK smiled despite himself. "Pa, it's not her fault. You never forced me to do things I didn't want to do. If you forced Dee, wouldn't that be biased?"
"You're right," his father chuckled. "Why do I feel like I'm the one being lectured here? Anyway, come home when you can. But I'd rather you bring someone with you than come alone."
"I did bring someone last time," KK reminded him.
"Not a colleague or a friend," Mr. Suwannarat clarified, his meaning unmistakable. He wanted to see the person who held his son's heart.
"Okay," KK said, glancing toward the door, thinking of the man in the kitchen who had just agreed to let him change his life. "I have to go. I'm still finishing my charts."
"Well, I won't hold you hostage. Have a nice day."
"Bye-bye, Pa."
The night had been a slow-motion torture for KK. After learning from Fon that a "tall, handsome" man had dragged Santichai away, KK's mind had spiraled. He felt the familiar sting of insecurity—the fear that his social status and professional success couldn't compete with a decade of shared history.
When he returned home to find the yellow envelopes from his mother—filled with photos of elite bachelors and the beautiful Ratana Siriporn—the contrast was deafening. His parents were offering him a kingdom of business partnerships and "appropriate" matches, while his heart was focused on a lonely, moped left in a darkening clinic parking lot.
Sleep was a ghost that refused to visit him. He tossed and turned until 2:00 AM, only to be jolted awake at 5:15 AM by the ringing of his phone.
"Hello?" KK asked, his voice thick with sleep and hope.
Silence. Only the sound of soft, ragged breathing came through the receiver—a rhythm KK knew better than his own heartbeat.
"Santichai, is that you? Where are you? I'm worried about you... Tell me where you are now!"
He heard a hitch in the breath, a muffled sob. KK sat bolt upright, his medical instincts and his love for the man merging into a single drive. "Santichai, don't cry. I'm coming for you."
The line went dead.
A quick redial led him to the front desk of the Sawasdi Hotel. The clerk confirmed a young man in kitchen whites had just left, heading toward the coast. KK didn't waste a second. He drove through the quiet, blue light of the morning, his eyes scanning the curbs and the sand.
Two miles past the hotel, he saw the opening to the beach. And there, a small figure sat against the vastness of the ocean.
KK approached quietly, his footsteps muffled by the soft sand. He stood just a few feet away, watching Santichai hug his knees and bury his face, looking like a man who had been hollowed out.
Then, Santichai's voice drifted up, a heartbreaking whimper to the waves: "Yes, let's have our wedding by the sea."
KK understood then. The "handsome" ex had been here. The memories had been weaponized. Without hesitation, KK stepped forward, his voice steady and soft, offering a new vow to replace the old one.
"Santichai Kittibun... if one day you agree, we will have our wedding by the sea."
Santichai looked up, his eyes red and swollen, and saw KK standing there like a pillar of strength against the morning light. He quickly tried to wipe away the evidence of his breakdown, but the weight of the night was too heavy.
"Can I borrow your shoulder?" Santichai whispered.
KK sat down beside him on the sand, his presence a warm contrast to the chilly ocean breeze. "My shoulder is yours," he said with a soft smile. "Leave all your unpleasant troubles right here."
Santichai leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of KK's heart. KK reached out, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear. "I believe I told you once... not to cry when I'm not around."
The kindness was the final blow to Santichai's composure. "I'm sorry," he sobbed, the trauma of the hotel room and the decade of lies finally spilling out.
KK gripped Santichai's hand tightly, his fingers intertwining with his. "Santichai, I take your words to heart. When you are ready, we will have that wedding by the sea." He leaned down and pressed a long, tender kiss to Santichai's forehead.
"KK... I want to tell you something," Santichai said, pulling back slightly to look at the horizon.
"Speak your mind," KK replied, his gaze fixed on the rising sun.
"To be honest... I don't like men. I don't feel that attraction." Santichai's voice was shaky but clear. "The reason I stayed with my first boyfriend was loneliness. He was the first person to ever stand by my side, and I thought the only way to keep him was to give him everything. That desperation... it turned into a kind of love. I tried for ten years to make him stay. I poured my heart into a delusional world where he was mine, but he never was. That's why I finally left."
KK didn't flinch. He gave Santichai a gentle, encouraging pat on the back. "Thank you for being honest with me." He let out a long sigh. "In that case... should we end the dating trial? If you don't like men, there is no point in forcing this."
Santichai looked at him, searching his face. "Are you disappointed?"
"I am," KK admitted with a small, sad smile. "But I will live. I want you to love me without any hidden obligations or fear. Even if you decide you can't love me that way, it won't change our friendship. I'm not going anywhere."
Santichai lifted his head, feeling the solid walls he had built around his heart finally begin to crumble. He looked at the man beside him—not as a doctor, or a boss, or a "rich man," but as Hinata.
"I've said goodbye to my old life," Santichai said, his voice gaining a new strength. "I'm ready to start a new one with this sunrise."
"That's good," KK said, leaning back and embracing the warmth of the sun.
"KK... Hinata," Santichai said softly.
KK turned his head, surprised by the use of his name. "Huh?"
Santichai gave him a genuine, rare smile—one that reached his eyes. "Let's go on a date. Somewhere you like."
"How about somewhere you like?" KK countered.
"Camping near the waterfall," Santichai said, his eyes brightening. "I remember a leader at my old job used to take his family every year. I always wanted to go."
KK stared at him, mesmerized. It was the first time he had truly seen Santichai smile. "Are you sure?"
"Let's go after my surgery," Santichai insisted. "I want to be able to hike without worrying about my back. I want to be whole again."
"Hah..." KK laughed, a sound of pure relief.
Santichai reached out and grabbed KK's hand, shaking it firmly. "Promise. A handshake promise."
"A handshake promise it is," KK agreed, his grip warm and secure. "But when we get there, don't you dare complain about the mosquitoes."
"I won't," Santichai promised.
As the sun fully cleared the horizon, the two of them sat in the sand, chatting and laughing, watching the light turn the dark water into gold.