Chasing Our Lost Stars [Completed]

Father to Dad

The room fell into a deep silence the moment Krit entered. His presence was heavy, each step carrying the weight of everything unsaid between them. Lek braced himself, expecting the usual anger and sharp words that had become so familiar between him and his son. His heart pounded, though he wouldn’t show it. Krit stood before him, his face a storm of emotions, and Lek could almost hear the words forming, waiting to be unleashed.

But instead of rage, Krit’s expression crumbled. His face softened, and suddenly, the boy who had once looked at him with such fury was now trembling, his lips quivering as he let out a broken, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

Without warning, Krit closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around his father in a tight embrace. His body shook with sobs, and the words kept tumbling out in whispered apologies, over and over again. Lek stood frozen, stunned by the gesture. It was as if time had bent backward, undoing all the years of silence and hostility between them.

Krit clung to him like he was afraid to let go, and Lek—this man who had always prided himself on being unyielding, as solid as a rock—began to break. His arms slowly moved around his son, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he held Krit close.

Memories flooded him in that moment, uninvited but vivid. He remembered the day Krit was born, the overwhelming joy and fear of holding his newborn son for the first time. That small, fragile body in his arms, the future wide open before them. Lek could still feel the warmth of that moment, but it had been buried under years of misunderstandings and unspoken pain.

Now, 26 years later, this was only the second time he had held his son like this. So much had passed between them. The fights, the anger, the resentment. Yet in this fragile embrace, all of it seemed to dissolve. Lek’s grip tightened, his throat constricting. The tears that had long been buried beneath his stern exterior welled up, and for the first time in years, Lek let himself cry.

Krit’s sobs grew louder as Lek’s hand moved gently to the back of his head, stroking his son’s hair, just like he had when Krit was a boy. The reality of it all hit him hard—how much time had slipped through their fingers. How much love had been buried under the weight of his pride.

It pained him to realize that the second time he held his son with such affection was after all these years of distance, of missed moments. And for what? His mind kept racing back to all the choices he had made, the words he had left unsaid. If only he had spoken sooner. If only he had shown his son the love he had always carried, instead of hiding it behind his anger.

Vel stood nearby, his own emotions breaking through as he watched the moment unfold. He placed his hand over his face, wiping away tears that he didn’t realize had started falling. It was a deeply personal moment, but Vel couldn’t help but feel the weight of it. The father and son standing before him weren’t just reconciling with each other—they were reclaiming the love they had lost.

The room felt small, the world closing in as the two men—father and son—held each other, broken but healing. Neither spoke a word, but nothing more needed to be said in that moment. There would be time for apologies, explanations, and all the things they had left buried for years. For now, they just held on, as if letting go would shatter the fragile bond they were finally beginning to mend.

As the seconds stretched on, the sound of Krit’s sobs grew softer, though he didn’t loosen his grip on his father. Lek, too, stayed still, his eyes squeezed shut, as if he could hold onto this moment forever. He wasn’t ready to let go—of the embrace, or of his son.

And neither was Krit.

An hour had passed since the emotional embrace, and now Krit, Lek, and the others found themselves settled in the living room, the air thick with a mix of tension and tentative relief. Dao sat beside Krit, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she observed the father-son duo. Pon and Sai, leaning against the walls, watched quietly, sensing the fragile bond being repaired before them.