Autumn is a second spring

90. Mother

Art stood near the grand staircase of the Dechaphatthanakun mansion, his expression cold and distant. 

His grandmother, Jane, standing in front of him, radiated anger. Her voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding.

"Art, how could you be so disrespectful to your own Mae?" Jane scolded, her hands clenched tightly. "Is this the way I raised you? Or is this the influence of that man, Earth? Tell me, where did you learn to behave like this?"

Art's eyes flicked to Shelly, who stood by Jane's side, her head tilted slightly as if the weight of Jane's words pained her. Her expression was carefully crafted to resemble heartbreak, but Art wasn't buying it. He turned back to Jane, his voice calm but laced with venom.

"With all due respect, Khun Yaay," he said, his tone icy, "I have nothing to do with Khun Shelly. She is not my family."

At his words, Shelly gasped softly, her hand coming up to her chest. A single tear slid down her cheek, glistening in the light.

"Art," Shelly murmured, her voice trembling. "I am your biological mother. I came here because I love you, because I have missed you. You are my son—I carried you for ten long months. How could you say I am not your family? I love you more than anything in this world."

Art felt a deep wave of disgust wash over him as he observed Jane's blind insistence and Shelly's calculated pretense. 

Jane's self-righteousness, veiled as concern, only magnified her hypocrisy in his eyes. Shelly's pitiful facade, laced with deceit, made his stomach churn. 

Their attempts to control and manipulate him, each for their own selfish reasons, filled him with revulsion. To him, their actions weren't just shameful—they were the epitome of everything he refused to become.

Art let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"If you really loved me the way you claim to," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "you wouldn't have cheated on Dad when I was just a baby. You have always loved one thing, Khun Shelly: money. Luxury. Isn't that why you are here now?"

Shelly's tears fell more freely now, but Art wasn't moved.

"That is not true!" she protested, her voice rising slightly. "I have made mistakes, but everything I have done, I have done because I care about you."

"Spare me the theatrics," Art snapped. "I see right through you."

He felt no pity for Shelly who was putting on a tremendous performance of being an affectionate mother. All she reminded him of was Earth's distress.

He hated her for causing Earth to cry at nights, stressing over the fact that her return might ruin their relationship. 

Art loved Earth more than his biological father and he knew that Earth loved him way more then Kao ever would. He couldn't let Shelly remain in his life, being a thorn in Earth's flesh. He couldn't let Shelly disrupt their peace and ruin their happy family.

Jane's face hardened as she stepped forward, pointing an accusing finger at Art.

"Enough!" she shouted. "Apologize to your mom is instant, Art! How dare you speak to her like this? Where is your respect?"

"Respect?" Art echoed, his eyes narrowing. "Respect is earned, Khun Yaay, not handed out just because someone gave birth to me. She doesn't deserve it." He paused, his gaze locking with hers. "Being a parent takes a lot more than giving birth. It is something you, of all people, might not understand."

Jane's face turned red, her lips pressed into a thin line. Art was now insulting her and her parenting. She raised her hand, ready to strike him.

"Art!" she bellowed. "You—"

Before her hand could reach him, Art's bodyguards stepped forward, forming a protective barrier around him. 

Jane stumbled back, stunned by their sudden intervention.

"What is the meaning of this?" Jane barked, glaring at the uniformed men. "How dare you interfere! I am Art's Khun Yaay! I would never harm him."

One of the bodyguards, a tall man with a composed demeanor, spoke up.

"Apologies, Madam," he said respectfully, "but you appeared to be about to assault the Young Master. We are only doing our duty."

Jane's face contorted in anger.

"Assault?!" she spat. "I am disciplining my grandson for his behavior! You have no right to meddle in family matters!"

The bodyguards remained unfazed, their stance unwavering.

"Move! This is an order!" She spat out gritting her teeth.

"With all due respect, Madam," the lead bodyguard replied, "our orders are clear. We are to ensure Young Master Art's safety under all circumstances."

Jane's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Orders? From whom?" she demanded.

"From Khun Kao, the current master of the Dechaphatthankun family," the bodyguard said calmly. "Under his instructions, we are to obey only Khun Kao, Khun Earth, Great Old Madam, and Young Master Art."

Jane's hands clenched into fists as her voice trembled with rage.

"I am Kao's mother! I gave birth to him! Are you ignoring that?" she shouted.

Her face twisted with anger, her eyes blazing with fury as her authority was dismissed. Her chest heaved with indignation, and her hands trembled, clenched tightly at her sides. 

The humiliation of being undermined in her own home burned her pride, her jaw tightening as she fought to maintain composure against the mounting tide of anger and embarrassment.

"That is precisely why we are addressing you with respect despite your actions," the bodyguard replied evenly. "If it had been anyone else raising their hand against the Young Master, they would have been dealt with accordingly."

Jane flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Her gaze darted around the room, seeking support, but the household staff averted their eyes, pretending to busy themselves with chores.

 Shelly looked down, dabbing at her tears with a delicate handkerchief.

Art finally broke the silence, stepping forward to face Shelly directly.

"This better be the last time you come over to see me, Khun Shelly," he said coldly. "If you ever appear in front of me again, I will file for a restraining order. Do you understand?"

Shelly's lips trembled as fresh tears streamed down her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Inside, Shelly seethed with anger and hatred, her mind racing with frustration at Art's defiance. How dare he humiliate her so publicly, rejecting her carefully crafted image of a remorseful mother?

Beneath her tear-streaked face and trembling hands lay a tempest of bitterness, fueled by the realization that her usual tactics of manipulation had failed. 

Yet, she forced herself to continue the charade, her sobs echoing softly, hoping that her feigned vulnerability might still evoke sympathy from someone in the room.

Art turned on his heel and strode toward the door, the bodyguards flanking him protectively.

"Art!" she called out desperately, but he didn't look back. 

The heavy doors closed behind him with a resounding thud, leaving the room in an oppressive silence. 

Jane clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. Shelly sank onto the nearest chair, her shoulders shaking as she wept.