A Vihokratana's tragedy

22. The surprise party

Hello, lovely reader,

Thank you for your patience with me. Now that I've started a job, I’ve come to understand just how challenging it can be to maintain balance in life, which is why I haven’t been able to write as much. I truly appreciate those of you who stuck with me during this time.

Before you dive into this chapter, a quick heads-up: this one is all about Pluem and Tay’s relationship, with a strong focus on Pluem’s journey. Other characters won’t be as prominent in this chapter, but I promise it’s worth the read.

With that said, enjoy the story!

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“Pluem, I get that you want us to be surprised, but are we prepping for a reveal or a trust fall with this blindfold?” Tay’s voice was taut with impatience and curiosity. He and New stood at the edge of the garden, their faces wrapped in soft red cotton, blinding them to the scene before them. The winter evening clutched at them, the damp earth clinging to their shoes while withered leaves crunched beneath their feet. The air was crisp, biting at their skin. Their breaths swirled visibly in front of them, ghost-like in the dim moonlight.

Tay shivered—not just from the cold, but from uncertainty. Pluem, their eldest son, had insisted on the blindfolds as he guided them slowly through the garden, hinting at something magical ahead. Tay’s frustration mounted with each careful step.

He stumbled slightly, his foot sinking into the cold, uneven ground as he relied on Pluem’s firm grip to steady him. 

“Careful now, Dad! Don’t step too wide,” Pluem chuckled, his voice filled with anticipation. “And no peeking! Just trust me a little longer. Please, Dad?”

There was something in Pluem’s tone that made Tay pause. His son rarely made such heartfelt requests, and that earnest plea stirred something deep in Tay, making the frustration ebb. Along with the cold, a warmth grew in his chest.

“Just listen to him, Te,” New whispered, excitement lacing his words. Tay could sense his husband’s usual calmness breaking, replaced by the eagerness radiating from their son. 

Tay sighed, his stubbornness wavering. There was something special about this moment. Pluem had spent weeks planning this, and while the blindfold irritated him, the building anticipation was contagious. Taking a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs, he decided to let go of his impatience.

Suddenly, they stopped walking. The air felt different—still cold, but tinged with something hopeful. Finally, after what felt like ages, Pluem’s hands tugged at the knot of the blindfold, gently freeing them.

At last, Tay would see what had kept him from this garden for so long. Relief and curiosity flooded him, his heart quickening in the quiet night.

As the fabric of the blindfold slipped away, the world burst into focus, the moonlight flooding his senses. Tay blinked against the brightness, the garden unveiling itself like a slowly unfurling flower. The stark silhouettes of bare trees framed the scene, casting long shadows that danced across the damp earth. But it was the centerpiece that stole his breath—a cluster of flickering lanterns suspended from the branches, their warm glow illuminating the night with an ethereal light. All the boys stood there.

In that moment, Tay's heart swelled, a mix of surprise and overwhelming love washing over him. The lanterns bobbed softly in the gentle breeze, casting patterns across the ground that beckoned memories sealed in the warmth of family. Pluem stood beside him, his eyes shimmering with joy, a mirror of the excitement thrumming through the air. 

“Surprise!” Pluem shouted, accompanied by the other boys, their voices bursting forth like sparks in the chilly night. Their tone rang with triumph, echoing years filled with laughter, celebration, and quiet moments shared in this very garden.