Vegas Theerapanyakul is wealthy, powerful, cold as ice, and haunted by a past betrayal that left him wary of love. When Pete Phongsakorn, a hopeful and warm-hearted architecture student, steps into his world, sparks fly-but not the kind that ignites...
As the conversation flowed around me, I felt a suffocating sense of detachment, swirling the wine in my glass absentmindedly. The familiar hum of Kinn and Porsche's voices faded into a dull murmur, drowned out by the chaos in my mind. I was present physically, yet mentally, I was drifting into dark, treacherous waters I had fought so hard to avoid.
Suddenly, my phone pinged loudly on the table, slicing through the lively chatter like a knife. My eyes darted to the screen, and instantly, the blood drained from my face. It was Nawee. A new Instagram story had popped up—pictures of him, smiling brightly, wrapped in the arms of Aiaoon, his new boyfriend.
They were in Paris, the city that had once been a shared dream between us, where we had envisioned strolling hand-in-hand beneath the glowing lights.
The images hit me like a freight train: Nawee's lips brushing against Aiaoon's cheek, followed by another showing them locked in a passionate kiss against the luminous backdrop of the Eiffel Tower. In one photo, they embraced, wrapped in each other's arms, their smiles radiating warmth and joy. It was the kind of affection I had once known, and the sight of their intimacy twisted the knife of betrayal deeper into my heart.
My chest tightened painfully, the familiar ache morphing into a visceral pain that radiated through me. Memories flooded back uninvited—our trip to Paris, filled with laughter and stolen kisses, the way Nawee had whispered sweet promises into my ear as we stood beneath that very same tower, lost in our world. I could almost feel the warmth of his embrace, the way he had pulled me close, enveloping me in a cocoon of affection that felt like home.
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Those moments when we shared long, lingering hugs, swaying gently as if the world around us had faded away, now felt like a haunting reminder of everything I had lost.
The weight of those memories crashed over me like a tidal wave, drowning out the vibrant atmosphere of the café. I felt my heart pound violently in my chest, each beat echoing like a countdown to an inevitable collapse.
With trembling hands, I quickly put the phone face down on the table, desperate to escape the images seared into my mind. But it was too late; they replayed like a haunting melody, Nawee happy and free while I was left behind, nursing wounds that had never fully healed. How could he move on so easily?
The anger and betrayal twisted in my gut, and I could feel the suffocation close in around me, tightening its grip with each passing second.
Kinn must have noticed the shift in my demeanor. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with concern, eyes searching mine for answers.
"It's nothing," I muttered, but the quiver in my voice betrayed the storm raging inside me.
The room felt suddenly suffocating, each breath I took tightening the noose around my chest. My thoughts spiraled, dragging me into the depths of painful remembrance—the warmth of Nawee's touch, the way he once kissed me with tender urgency. Those same lips, once my refuge, were now pressed against someone else, and the weight of it all felt like a final blow to whatever remained of my shattered heart.
"I have to go," I blurted out, the urgency in my voice surprising even me. I stood up so abruptly that my chair scraped loudly against the floor, reverberating in the stunned silence that followed. Without another word, I grabbed my blazer and bolted for the door, ignoring the confused looks from Kinn, Porsche, and Pete.
Each step away from them felt like a betrayal, yet the images of Nawee—my ex—wrapped in someone else's arms wouldn't leave my mind. The pain of it all was too much to bear.
The door swung shut behind me, leaving the warmth of the café behind as I stepped into the cool night air, heart heavy and eyes stinging with unspoken sorrow. The world outside felt starkly different, stripped of the laughter that had surrounded me moments ago. It was just me, lost in a sea of memories that threatened to drown me.
Would I ever be free of the haunting images? Or was this just another wound that would never fully heal?
The Eiffel Tower loomed in my mind, a cruel reminder of everything I had lost, and as I walked away, I felt like a ghost in a city that was once filled with love and light, now eclipsed by shadows of betrayal.
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