Autumn is a second spring

124. Sleepover 2.0

Fluke had heard enough. The words were still echoing in his mind — that Prem had called Boun selfish. He couldn't let it slide. Sitting across from Prem, watching the man's tired face under the dim light of the room, Fluke finally spoke.

"I heard you called P' Boun selfish. Was Boun really selfish?" His voice was steady but edged with something sharp. "Tell me, Prem—were you always selfless in this relationship?"

Prem didn't answer. He shifted in his seat, fingers tightening around the beer bottle like it was the only anchor holding him steady.

Fluke leaned forward, his eyes fixed on his friend. "Have you forgotten what it was like when you first met him? Back then, you had just gotten injured. You needed surgery, treatment and therapy. And because of all that, you were removed from the national team. That team was your whole world, and suddenly it was gone. You were devastated, lost, spiraling. And then you met Boun. He was the one who kept you distracted, who kept you breathing, who helped you carve out a new way to live."

The words rolled out slowly, like he was pulling them from his own memory rather than Prem's.

"Do you remember that?" Fluke pressed. "Because I do. I told you not to date him back then, told you it was too messy, too soon, but you insisted he was the best thing that had ever happened to you."

Prem's throat bobbed, but he stayed silent.

"But then everything changed the moment you qualified for the national team again," Fluke continued, his voice quieter but sharper. "From then on, P' Boun and even little Bew weren't your priority anymore. It was always the game, always the team. You would choose them over P' Boun and Bew without even blinking."

The silence that followed felt heavy, like the air itself pressed down on them. Fluke studied Prem's trembling hands as the man finally lifted the beer to his lips, his knuckles white.

"You keep saying P' Boun used you," Fluke said, his tone softening, "but the truth is—you used him too. Neither of you were selfless, Prem. Neither of you."

Prem didn't protest. He only bowed his head lower, the glint of tears forming in his eyes.

Fluke's gaze hardened. "You keep saying you see Bew as your son. Then tell me—where have you been as a father? Bew is just three years old, Prem. That's the age when children crave their parents' attention, when they want to be held and spoiled and tucked in at night. Do you really think showing up for a few days here and there was enough? Do you really believe that a handful of video calls can replace the warmth of a parent's hand or the comfort of a parent's voice by their side?"

Prem let out a shuddering breath, but still didn't respond.

Fluke's chest rose and fell sharply as he fought to keep his voice from cracking. "This is the age when a child's view of the world forms. And you missed it, Prem. You chose to miss it. So don't act surprised when Bew clings to James, who was there, instead of you. Don't act wounded when the child chooses someone who actually showed up."

That was when Prem broke. He dropped his head into his hands, covering his face as his shoulders shook. Quiet sobs escaped him, muffled by his palms.

Fluke inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a moment to steady himself. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, almost gentler. "It's okay if you have stopped loving P' Boun. People change. Feelings fade. Sometimes we wake up one day and realize the things we used to love are now the things we can't stand. That's life. That's human. It isn't a crime."

He leaned back, his tone still calm but firm. "But what isn't okay is pretending that only P' Boun was wrong, that only P' Boun failed. For the past year, all you have done is keep a running list of what P' Boun didn't do or what P' Boun did wrong. You have blinded yourself to your own mistakes. You were never perfect either, Prem. Neither of you were."

Prem's quiet sobs filled the silence between them.

"They were just flaws," Fluke went on. "And flaws are normal. You both had your reasons for the things you did. You both had your blind spots. But that doesn't make P' Boun the villain. And it doesn't make you the saint."

He paused, letting the words sink in. His gaze shifted toward Earth, who had been sitting quietly, watching the entire exchange with wide, worried eyes.

"Do you realize," Fluke said, pointing slightly toward him, "that Earth is getting married in a month? This should be the happiest time for him and P' Kao. They should be planning their future, looking forward to their wedding. Instead, they are worried sick about you and P' Boun. Both of you matter to them. Earth loves you, you are his best friend. And P' Boun is P' Kao's nong chaai. They can't choose between you two. And they shouldn't have to."

Earth flinched, glancing away as Fluke's words hit the truth they had all been avoiding.

"They are afraid you and Boun won't even be able to stand in the same space on the wedding day. They are afraid their relatives, who only know you as a couple, will ask questions that make you both uncomfortable. Do you know how much pressure that puts on them?" Fluke's voice trembled, not with weakness but with frustration. "Do you realize that by painting Boun as the bad guy, you are pushing everyone to dislike him? You are forcing them to blame him for the breakup, when both of you are equally responsible."

"Fluke, that's enough," Earth finally whispered, his voice breaking with quiet pleading.

But Fluke wasn't done. He gave Earth a brief glance, then looked back at Prem, who was still crying silently, shoulders trembling.

His own eyes softened. "I am sorry, Earth," Fluke said after a moment, his voice weary. "I didn't mean to ruin the mood tonight. You shouldn't have invited me."

He stood up, the chair scraping against the floor, and turned toward the door. "It's better if I leave."

The room was thick with silence as he walked out.

Just as he stepped into the hallway, Kao came rushing toward him, eyes wide with urgency. "Did you talk to Prem? Did you convince him to go back to Boun?"

Fluke stopped, his expression tired. "No. I am not getting involved anymore."

Kao blinked at him, stunned. "What? You can't just walk away, Fluke. If you don't step in, Boun and Prem will be over!"

Fluke's steps faltered. He looked up at Kao with a weariness that ran deeper than fatigue. "They are adults, Phi. They know what they are doing."

"No, they don't," Kao insisted. "They need you—"

"I have already been their free counselor too many times," Fluke cut him off, his voice rising with frustration. "I have mediated their fights, patched them back together, told them to communicate, told them to be considerate. I have picked up the pieces every time they broke. But I am done. I can't do it anymore. Whatever happens between them now... it's not my responsibility."

He rubbed his face with his hand, exhaling sharply. "I already have too much on my plate. I don't have the time or energy for this."

Kao opened his mouth to argue, but Fluke shut him down with a pointed look. "You are the one getting married in a month. You promised Earth a dream wedding, remember? Then focus on that. Make sure it's the dream you promised him. Let P' Boun and Prem deal with their own mess."

With that, Fluke turned and walked away, his figure fading down the corridor, leaving Kao standing frozen in shock.

Behind him, another presence approached quietly. Ohm had heard everything. He stopped beside Kao, his expression unreadable.

Kao turned to him, eyes filled with confusion. "Do you know what's going on with Fluke? Why is he acting like this?"

Ohm shook his head slowly. "No. At first, I thought he was just stressed about Prem. But now..." His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked in the direction Fluke had gone. "Now it feels like something else entirely."