A New Safe Space

The Return

The hum of the plane's engines buzzed in Akk's ears, but his mind was elsewhere—back in Singapore, back to all the decisions and sacrifices he had made over the past year. The city had been a necessary escape, a lifeline, but as the plane descended toward Bangkok, the familiar pang of regret tightened in his chest.

For months, he had convinced himself that leaving Ayan was the only way to salvage his family's sinking fortunes, the only way to protect them from the crushing weight of his father's debts. But now, as the memories resurfaced—the quiet mornings, the late-night conversations, the way Ayan's eyes used to light up when they talked about the future—he couldn't shake the feeling that he had made a terrible mistake.

In the beginning, it hadn't felt like a choice. The job offer in Singapore had seemed like the only way out, a beacon of hope in a sea of financial turmoil. His father had been too proud to ask for help, and Akk... Akk couldn't bear the thought of dragging Ayan into that mess. His pride had kept him silent, even when Ayan had sensed something was wrong. Even when the tension between them had grown, stretching thin across their relationship until it snapped.

He hadn't told Ayan the full truth about why he was leaving. They had argued—about everything and nothing, the way couples do when there's something bigger simmering beneath the surface. Ayan had wanted more, had been ready to take their relationship to the next level, to move in together officially and build a future. But Akk couldn't focus on that, not with his family falling apart behind the scenes. How could he ask Ayan to wait while he drowned in his family's debts? How could he let Ayan, with his family's wealth, swoop in and fix things? His pride wouldn't allow it.

So he left.

Singapore had been a blur of long work hours and sleepless nights, homesickness gnawing at him like a persistent ache. He missed Bangkok—the food, the people, the comfort of being home—but most of all, he missed Ayan. Every time he saw a couple holding hands on the street or heard a song that reminded him of their nights together, it took all of his strength not to pick up the phone and call him. But what would he say? Sorry for leaving without a proper explanation? Sorry for choosing my family over you? Sorry for not being able to open up?

It was the bitterness of sacrifice that had kept him going. He told himself it would be worth it, that once his family was stable, he could return and make things right with Ayan. But that dream had started to crumble when he saw the group picture on Wat's social media. Wat and the gang were at some event, smiling at the camera, but it wasn't the familiar faces that caught Akk's attention. It was the new one—the stranger with his arm draped casually around Ayan's shoulders, grinning as if he belonged there. And Ayan, his Ayan, was looking up at the man with that same radiant smile Akk had once been the cause of.

Akk had stared at that picture for what felt like hours, the pit in his stomach growing as the reality sank in. Ayan had moved on.

That was when the offer from Bangkok came in—double his current salary, a position at a sister company of the one he worked for in Singapore. The timing couldn't have been more perfect, or more complicated. Part of him wanted to stay away, to let Ayan live his life, but the pull of home, of Bangkok, was too strong. It was time to face the reality he had run from.

As the plane touched down, Akk let out a slow breath. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he knew that nothing would be the same.

When he strolled through the airport, the familiar sights and sounds of Bangkok stirred something deep within him. Nostalgia mixed with the anxiety gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. He was back, but for what? A fresh start? Closure?

"Khan!" Akk called out as he spotted his old friend in the crowd.

Khan greeted him with a subdued smile, pulling him into a quick hug. "Welcome back, man. It's been a while."

"Too long," Akk admitted, though he could sense something restrained in Khan's demeanor. There was a heaviness between them, the unspoken topic hanging in the air.

As they made their way through the crowded airport, small talk filled the space—updates on work, friends, and family. But Akk couldn't hold back the question that had been on his mind since the moment he stepped off the plane.

"How's Ayan?"

Khan hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. "He's... doing well. You know, things have changed a bit."

"What do you mean?" Akk pressed, his heart racing despite the calmness of his tone.

"He sold the old apartment," Khan said, choosing his words carefully. "Moved out a while ago. He's got a new place now."

Akk swallowed hard, trying to push past the lump forming in his throat. Of course, Ayan had moved. It made sense. Why would he stay in a place filled with memories of their life together? But knowing it and hearing it were two different things.

"I see," Akk murmured. He turned to look out the window, trying to keep his emotions in check. "And... he's with someone else now, isn't he?"

Khan's silence was enough of an answer.

They pulled up to Akk's new apartment, courtesy of his company. It was sleek and modern, far from the familiar warmth of the place he had shared with Ayan for years. As Khan helped him with his bags, Akk couldn't shake the feeling of how strange it was to be back in Bangkok but not be going home. Not to the apartment where he and Ayan had spent so many nights, laughing, fighting, and dreaming of a future together.

Khan cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "You okay, Akk?"

Akk nodded, though his chest felt tight. "Yeah. Just... it feels strange, being back and not going to our old place."

Khan gave him a sympathetic smile. "I know. It's not easy. But maybe it's a fresh start."

Akk forced a smile. "Maybe."

But as he stood in his new apartment, staring out at the skyline of a city that felt both familiar and foreign, he couldn't shake the feeling that no matter where he was, part of him was still living in the past, with Ayan. And no matter how hard he tried to move on, the ghost of what they had would always be there, lingering just beneath the surface.