Journey (PONDPHUWIN)

Chapter 16: The Unraveling

The delicate balance of Pond's double life began to unravel not long after his marriage. For a time, everything seemed perfect—on the surface. His new wife, Nok, was everything the public expected: elegant, poised, and deeply connected to the high society circles that Pond needed to solidify his business empire. Their marriage was a powerful alliance, but like all alliances built on convenience rather than love, it was fraught with tension.

Nok was not oblivious to the changes in her husband's behavior. She had noticed the nights he stayed out late, the unexplained absences, and the way he seemed distant, even cold, whenever they were alone together. At first, she dismissed it as the normal adjustment period of newlyweds, especially in a marriage built more on practicality than passion. But as time passed, her suspicions grew.

Nok was not one to ignore her instincts. She started to dig, asking subtle questions, paying closer attention to Pond's schedule, and eventually, she heard whispers among the staff. Whispers of a man named Phuwin, who was often seen at the other estate, the one Pond never mentioned to her. The more she learned, the more her suspicions hardened into certainty.

One evening, after yet another unexplained absence, Nok decided she had had enough. When Pond returned home, she confronted him, her patience finally worn thin.

"Pond, we need to talk," Nok said, her voice firm as she stood in the doorway of their opulent living room.

Pond glanced at her, his expression indifferent. "What is it, Nok? I'm tired."

Nok crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "I'm sure you are. It must be exhausting living two lives."

Pond's gaze sharpened, but he maintained his composure. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Phuwin," Nok said, her voice laced with accusation. "The man you've been keeping hidden away at that other estate. The one you spend your nights with while you leave me here, wondering where my husband is."

Pond's expression darkened, and he took a step closer to her. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Nok snapped, her voice rising. "I know everything, Pond. I know that you've been lying to me, that you've been hiding this... this affair. I know that this marriage is just a convenience for you, that you don't care about me at all. But what I don't understand is why you would keep someone like him. What is he to you? Some kind of pet? A toy?"

Pond's eyes flashed with anger, but Nok didn't stop. The frustration and humiliation she had been harboring for months finally spilled over.

"He must be something truly pathetic if he's willing to let you keep him like this," Nok sneered. "Does he have no self-respect? Or do you enjoy breaking people, Pond? Is that what this is really about?"

The words were like a match to dry tinder. Pond's control, already frayed by the stress of maintaining his double life, snapped. Before he could think, before he could stop himself, he lashed out.

The sound of the slap echoed through the room, shocking them both into silence. Nok stumbled back, her hand flying to her cheek, where a red mark was already beginning to form. She stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief and fury.

Pond's chest heaved with anger, but as the reality of what he had done sank in, a cold wave of dread washed over him. He had never intended to hurt Nok—physically, at least—but her words had cut deep, exposing the very thing he had been trying to hide, even from himself.

For a moment, they just stood there, the silence between them filled with tension. Then, without another word, Pond turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Nok standing there, trembling with anger and shock.

Pond drove to the estate on the outskirts of the city, his mind racing, his emotions in turmoil. Nok's words echoed in his mind, mingling with his own guilt and rage. He had always prided himself on control—control over his life, his business, and the people around him. But now, that control was slipping through his fingers, and the consequences were more than he could bear.

When Pond arrived at the estate, he was in a state of barely controlled fury. He needed an outlet, a way to release the tension that was threatening to tear him apart. And there was only one person he could turn to.

Phuwin was in his room, trying to distract himself from the crushing loneliness that had become his constant companion. He heard the front door slam and immediately knew who it was. Pond's visits were unpredictable, but they were always intense, and Phuwin had learned to brace himself for whatever mood Pond might be in.

But tonight, as Pond burst into the room, Phuwin could see that something was different. There was a wildness in Pond's eyes, a barely restrained fury that made Phuwin's blood run cold.

"Pond?" Phuwin said cautiously, standing up from the bed. "What's wrong?"

Pond didn't answer. He crossed the room in two quick strides, grabbing Phuwin by the shoulders and pushing him against the wall. The force of the impact knocked the breath out of Phuwin, but he didn't resist. He had learned long ago that resistance only made things worse.

Pond's grip was tight, his fingers digging into Phuwin's skin as he leaned in, his voice low and dangerous. "You're mine, Phuwin. Do you understand that? No one else gets to have you. No one."

Phuwin nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. "I know," he whispered. "I'm yours."

But Pond wasn't satisfied with the words. He needed to feel it, to remind himself that he still had control over something, even as everything else in his life seemed to be slipping away. His hands moved to Phuwin's waist, pulling him closer, his touch rough and demanding.

Phuwin's body tensed as he realized what was coming, but he didn't protest. He had learned to detach himself from these moments, to retreat into a place deep inside where Pond couldn't reach him. But tonight, the violence in Pond's touch was more intense, more desperate, and it took all of Phuwin's strength to hold himself together.

Pond's breath was hot against Phuwin's neck as he pushed him onto the bed, his movements frantic and driven by a need that Phuwin couldn't comprehend. There was no gentleness, no pretense of affection. It was pure possession, an assertion of control that left Phuwin feeling hollow and violated.

When it was over, Pond lay beside Phuwin, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his anger finally spent. Phuwin stared up at the ceiling, his body aching, his mind numb. He could feel Pond's hand on his arm, the touch now gentle, almost apologetic, but it did nothing to ease the pain.

"Phuwin," Pond murmured, his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry."

Phuwin didn't respond. He didn't have the energy to muster the words. What could he say? That it was okay? That he understood? None of it was true.

Pond sighed, his hand moving to Phuwin's hair, stroking it softly as if that could erase the violence of the last few minutes. "You're mine," he repeated, his voice softer now. "I need you to know that."

Phuwin closed his eyes, willing himself to disappear, to fade into the darkness where Pond couldn't reach him. But the darkness offered no escape, only the cold reality of his life—a life where he was nothing more than a possession, a toy for Pond to use whenever he needed to release his anger, his frustration, his guilt.

As Pond drifted off to sleep beside him, Phuwin lay awake, staring into the darkness, the emptiness inside him growing with each passing moment. There was no escape from this life, no future where he could be free of Pond's control. The violence, the possessiveness, the twisted affection—it was all part of the same cycle, a cycle that Phuwin knew would never end.

In the quiet of the night, Phuwin finally allowed himself to cry, the tears falling silently as he lay beside the man who claimed to love him, but who had done nothing but break him.

And as the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, Phuwin realized that he was truly alone. Pond's control was absolute, and there was no escape from the life he had been forced to live. The estate, once a gilded cage, was now a prison from which there would never be any release.