Everlasting (PONDPHUWIN)

Chapter 9: Family Expectations

The grand dining room of Nueng's family estate was a study in contrasts: cold elegance beneath a surface of familial warmth. The long mahogany table, polished to a mirror finish, stretched across the room, flanked by high-backed chairs that looked more like thrones than seats. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a golden glow over the meticulously set table, where silver cutlery gleamed against fine china.

Nueng sat at one end of the table, his back straight, his expression carefully composed. Across from him, his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Pawin, were engaged in quiet conversation, their voices barely audible over the soft clink of silverware. Dinner at the Pawin household was always a formal affair, where expectations were unspoken but omnipresent.

Tonight, however, there was an added weight in the air, a tension that Nueng could feel in the pit of his stomach. He had a sinking feeling that this dinner was about more than just the usual family pleasantries.

As the meal progressed, Mr. Pawin finally set down his fork and knife, his gaze settling on Nueng with a seriousness that made Nueng's heart skip a beat. The quiet murmur of conversation between his parents ceased, and the room seemed to grow colder.

"Nueng," Mr. Pawin began, his voice calm but firm, "we need to talk about your future."

Nueng's hand tightened around his glass, but he kept his expression neutral. "Yes, Father?" he replied, his voice steady, though inside, he was anything but.

Mr. Pawin leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. "You've been doing well at school, and your grades have been satisfactory. But as you know, your education is only one part of the equation. Your responsibilities to this family extend beyond the classroom."

Nueng nodded, already anticipating where this conversation was headed. He had heard similar speeches before, but tonight, it felt more ominous, more final.

"It's time to start thinking seriously about your future," Mr. Pawin continued, his eyes sharp and focused. "You're the heir to this family, and that comes with certain obligations—obligations that you cannot afford to neglect."

Nueng's chest tightened, the weight of those words pressing down on him like a leaden blanket. "I understand," he said quietly, though the truth was, he wasn't sure he did. Not fully.

Mrs. Pawin, who had been silent until now, offered a small, tight-lipped smile. "We've been speaking with the Thawat family," she said, her tone carefully measured. "Their daughter, Maggie, is of marriageable age, and she comes from a good family. They've expressed interest in arranging a meeting between the two of you."

Nueng's blood ran cold. A meeting? Marriage? The implications were clear, and they sent a spike of fear straight through him. He had known this moment would come eventually, but he hadn't expected it to happen so soon—especially not now, when his heart was already so conflicted.

"I—" Nueng started, his voice faltering. He didn't know what to say, how to refuse without causing a scene that would only worsen the situation.

Mr. Pawin's gaze hardened, as if he could sense the resistance building in his son. "This is not just about you, Nueng. It's about the future of our family. The Pawin name carries weight, and it's your duty to ensure that it remains strong."

Nueng swallowed hard, his mind racing. He thought of Palm, of the moments they had shared, the promises they had made to each other in the safety of the night. How could he reconcile those feelings with the expectations his family was placing on him? How could he choose between the life he wanted and the life he was expected to lead?

Seeing his son's hesitation, Mr. Pawin's expression softened slightly, but there was still an edge to his voice. "This is not a decision to be taken lightly, but it's one that must be made. You're almost an adult, Nueng. It's time to start acting like one."

Nueng felt the walls closing in on him, the weight of his family's expectations threatening to crush him. But he knew he couldn't give in—not completely. He needed time, needed to find a way to balance the two worlds he was being forced to straddle.

"I understand, Father," Nueng finally said, his voice quiet but firm. "But I need some time to think about this."

Mr. Pawin studied him for a long moment, as if weighing the sincerity of his words. Finally, he nodded, though his expression remained stern. "Very well. But remember, Nueng, time is not on your side. The sooner you accept your responsibilities, the better it will be for all of us."

Nueng nodded, not trusting himself to speak further. He could feel his mother's eyes on him, her expression unreadable, but he didn't dare look at her. The rest of the meal passed in a blur, the food tasteless in his mouth, his mind consumed by the impossible choices before him.

---

Later that night, Nueng sat on the edge of his bed, staring out the window at the darkened garden below. The room was silent, the only sound the quiet ticking of the clock on his bedside table. But inside, his thoughts were a chaotic storm of fear, anger, and confusion.

He knew he couldn't delay the inevitable forever. His parents' expectations were clear, and the pressure to comply was growing by the day. But the thought of giving up Palm, of resigning himself to a life that wasn't his own, filled him with a deep, aching despair.

A soft knock at the door broke through his thoughts, and Nueng quickly composed himself. "Come in," he called, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

The door opened slowly, and Palm stepped into the room, his expression concerned. "Nueng, are you okay?" he asked softly, closing the door behind him.

Nueng's heart ached at the sight of Palm, the one person who could bring him comfort even in the darkest of times. He forced a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm fine," he lied, but Palm wasn't fooled.

"Nueng," Palm said gently, crossing the room to sit beside him on the bed. "I know something's wrong. You don't have to hide it from me."

Nueng sighed, the weight of the evening's conversation pressing down on him once more. "It's my parents," he admitted quietly. "They... they want to arrange a marriage for me. With someone from a 'good family,' to secure the future of our name."

Palm's breath caught, and he reached out, taking Nueng's hand in his. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with sympathy. "That must be so hard for you."

Nueng nodded, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes. "I don't know what to do, Palm. I can't give up my family, but I can't give up... us, either."

Palm's grip on Nueng's hand tightened, his own heart breaking at the pain in Nueng's voice. "You don't have to decide right now," he said softly. "We'll figure this out together, okay?"

Nueng looked up at Palm, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and gratitude. "I don't want to lose you," he whispered, his voice trembling.

"You won't," Palm replied, his voice filled with quiet conviction. "No matter what happens, we'll find a way. I promise."

Nueng leaned into Palm's embrace, the tears he had been holding back finally spilling over. Palm held him close, his heart aching for the boy he had come to care for so deeply. He knew the road ahead would be difficult, filled with challenges neither of them could yet foresee. But he also knew that their love was worth fighting for.

As they sat there in the dim light of the room, the world outside felt far away, the expectations and pressures of their families momentarily forgotten. All that mattered was the bond they shared, the love that had grown between them despite the odds.

But even as they found comfort in each other's arms, the reality of their situation loomed large, a shadow that would not be easily dispelled. Nueng knew that the time would come when he would have to make a choice—between his family and the love he had found with Palm.

And though the future was uncertain, one thing was clear: whatever path he chose, it would change everything.