It was a sunny and warm afternoon.
Saram sat in a café, done with his part-time job for the day. He stared out the window, lost in thoughts about his future.
Only summer left before he would leave this city. He never expected the words of that fake fortune teller to come true.
It had been a year since he graduated high school. After the breakup, losing contact with his friends, and getting low scores, he couldn't get into any good college. Life felt like it was getting worse and worse. That's when he met the fortune teller.
The man told Saram to do something strange. In return, he promised that Saram's luck would change.
Saram didn't believe him at all. But that same day, after going home, he got unexpected news. His uncle had used some connections and helped him get into a college.
Saram thought about the fortune teller again but decided not to do what he was asked. The fortune teller had told him to smash a table in front of another fortune teller—a task that made no sense and something Saram didn't have the courage to do. He believed that getting into college was thanks to his uncle, not because of some weird fortune teller's words.
When the fortune teller heard this, he didn't say much. He just told Saram that they would meet again.
But right now, none of that mattered. The main thing was—Saram was leaving the city for college.
He was happy to get into college. While his friends were moving ahead in life, he always felt left behind. But now, with college finally happening, he could catch up and move forward too.
However, as the day to leave got closer, he started feeling reluctant. The reason was simple—his mother.
He wondered how she would manage without him. He had been the man of the house ever since his dad left almost five years ago, and now he was going to leave her too.
The thought was so depressing it ruined his mood.
Sure, his mother always said she'd be fine. She always said that. But he knew how much she depended on him.
She was still young, just 37, and honestly... hot. But she never dated or had another man around. Other than Saram, there was no one to fix things around the house, take care of the car, or help with small daily problems.
Keeping the house running had become his job, and he didn't mind. In fact, he loved it. They had a special bond. More than just mother and son, they were like best friends. They leaned on each other for everything—his teenage problems, her bigger adult worries... like how to pay the bills.
When his father ran off with his secretary, he didn't just leave them with nothing—he left his mother heartbroken. For a long time, Saram hated him for that.
His dad shattered their happy family and hurt his mom badly. But now... Saram didn't hate him anymore. Strangely, his leaving had brought Saram and his mom closer than ever.
Since then, Saram did his best to make sure she didn't miss having a man in the house—at least, in all the ways a teenage boy could help. He learned to fix things, worked a part-time job to cover his own clothes and small expenses, and most importantly... he was always there when she needed a shoulder to cry on.
And she did cry—a lot. Saram still had a couple of shirts stained with her tears. And... though he was embarrassed to admit it, he also had a couple of her panties hidden in his dresser. Ones he had secretly taken from the laundry hamper.
As he already said—his mother was hot. And if you haven't guessed it yet, Saram had a major crush on her.
She was gorgeous, and not just because he thought so. All of his friends said the same. In fact, they all agreed she was by far the hottest and coolest mom out of anyone they knew.
She stood about five-foot-six, with long legs and a graceful build. Her most striking feature was her large, round eyes—deep purple in color, like amethyst gems. They always seemed to sparkle, especially when she smiled or laughed, making it hard for anyone not to stare.
Her hair was another thing that made her stand out. Naturally dark, she kept it dyed a deep blue with lighter highlights running through it. She let it grow all the way down to her waist, soft and silky, often catching the light when she moved.
Her skin was smooth and fair, with just a soft glow that made her look younger than her age. At 37, she easily passed for someone in her late twenties. People often joked that she and Saram looked like brother and sister whenever they went out together. And of course, she loved it when Saram told her that.
Her figure was perfect—curvy in all the right places, with a slim waist, and a generous chest that always caught attention, no matter what she wore. Whether she was in jeans and a T-shirt or a simple dress, she turned heads wherever she went.
On her 37th birthday, Saram had surprised her with a birthstone ring and a matching necklace. She had no idea he was getting her anything. But he had been saving every bit of his extra spending money—over seven hundred dollars—and spent it all on her.
He remembered the day they saw the jewelry set at the mall. She had paused by the store window, admiring the delicate design and saying how pretty it was. That stuck in his mind.
Buying the set had been one of the most exciting moments of his life so far. He had it specially wrapped at the store in shiny paper with a bright red bow.
When he gave it to her, she started crying. For a second, he thought he had done something wrong. But her tears were happy tears. She told him he shouldn't have spent so much, but that she loved the gift... and she loved him.
That alone made everything worth it.
What surprised him most was when she slipped the ring onto her left ring finger—the same finger where she used to wear her wedding band. That small act meant more to Saram than she probably realized.