Early morning light cast a soft glow over the quiet street in front of Jay's house. Ying's sleek car was parked at the curb.
The car door opened. Jay stepped out first and walked around to the other side to help his father out. Ying also got out from the driver's seat, standing nearby with a gentle expression.
— "Careful, Dad… take it slow," Jay said softly, his voice as light as the morning breeze. One hand supported his father, the other held his bag.
— "Jay, I'm not that old and frail, you know," Mr. Sakda said with a slight frown, his tone tinged with playful scolding as he used his cane to step out.
— "I know, but I still worry…" Jay pouted, mumbling like a child who'd been unfairly blamed, staying close by his father's side, his hand never leaving his arm.
Ying watched the two of them with a quiet smile. The scene was unusually peaceful.
— "Let's go inside, Dad," Jay said, then turned to Ying. "Thank you for everything this morning. If it weren't for you, I probably would've panicked."
— "It's nothing," Ying replied with a small shake of his head, his gaze lingering briefly on Jay. "It's the least I could do."
Then he turned to Mr. Sakda and gave a polite bow.
— "Please rest well, sir. I'll take my leave now — there are still a few things I need to handle at the office."
— "Alright, go ahead. Thank you so much," Mr. Sakda nodded, his expression softening, perhaps understanding a bit of Ying's sincerity.
Jay looked at Ying, his eyes filled with something unspoken.
— "Drive safe, okay, Ying?"
Ying gave a gentle smile and nodded.
— "I will. Goodbye."
He turned and walked back toward his car, glancing back one last time, as if wanting to capture the image of Jay and his father standing there.
The engine hummed softly, then gradually faded into the distance down the quiet road. Jay watched until the car disappeared from view, a hint of longing in his eyes, before turning to guide his father into the house.
———————————————————
At the company, inside a high-level executive office, sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows, casting a warm glow over the workspace. Faisal sat leaning back in his chair, flipping through some documents with a focused expression. The door suddenly swung open, and he glanced up.
— "Ah, you're here?" Faisal raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips curling slightly, as if he'd already predicted Ying's arrival at that exact moment.
Ying didn't answer right away. He stepped in and pulled out a chair, settling down.
— "Yeah." A quiet but firm response — the familiar air of cool detachment still clung to him.
Faisal glanced at Ying, then back at his paperwork. He turned a few more pages before speaking, his voice light as the breeze:
— "You took Mr. Sakda home already?"
— "Yeah." The reply was short, clipped, but his eyes held a trace of concern he didn't bother to mask.
Faisal raised an eyebrow slightly, letting his gaze linger on his friend's face. Those eyes — calm on the surface — couldn't quite hide the emotions brewing underneath.
— "If he's doing better, then… Jay's probably flying back to France soon, right?" Faisal set the documents aside this time, his tone more serious, carefully watching for any flicker in Ying's expression.
— "Yeah. He's leaving this weekend." Ying's voice was light, as if it didn't matter — but it was the kind of lightness that cut deep, like a thin blade pressed to the heart.
Faisal fell silent for a beat, then let out a small smirk, half teasing, half genuine:
— "So? Not planning to say anything before he leaves? You'll regret it."
He folded the papers, propping his chin up on his hand, eyes glinting with playful challenge.
— "Some things… are better left unsaid." Ying didn't meet his gaze. His eyes were fixed on the desk, voice low. "If I say it… I might lose even the right to stand beside him."
Faisal paused. His expression sobered, and he let out a slow breath.
— "But some things… if you don't try, you'll never know. Not for the rest of your life."
Ying didn't reply. But the hand resting on his knee tightened slightly, his gaze unfocused, lost in the empty space ahead. Only someone who knew him well could catch that subtle shift.
— "Unrequited love…" Faisal chuckled, but it lacked humor. "It's the most beautiful kind of love… and also the most painful. Silence — that's the strongest foundation of unrequited love."
Ying finally looked up, the corner of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile. His eyes were deep, as if mocking himself:
— "People in love always see the world through rose-tinted glasses."
Faisal laughed aloud, eyes never leaving his friend.
— "That's still better than wearing black sunglasses all the time like you — you can't see a damn thing."
— "At least that way… I don't get blinded by hope," Ying said softly, his voice catching just slightly, enough to make Faisal freeze for a moment.
A quiet stillness passed between them. Then Faisal exhaled and lowered his voice, more serious now:
— "If that's what you want… then at least try. You never know."
Ying remained silent for a moment. Then, barely audibly, he nodded once.
— "Yeah." So soft that anyone not paying attention would think he hadn't spoken at all.
Faisal squinted at him, the corner of his lips lifting.
— "Good. Glad you're finally listening to me."
The atmosphere settled. After a few moments, Faisal slid a stack of documents toward Ying, his tone gentler:
— "Anyway, about the new project — what do you think?"
Ying took the folder, flipped through a few pages, then leaned back in his chair:
— "I'll negotiate to secure that plot. It's the more promising direction."
— "Sounds good. I trust you. That part's all yours." Faisal nodded with satisfaction.
— "Alright." Ying gave a short reply, but his gaze had regained the calm steadiness that had been missing when he first arrived.
Faisal watched him for a few seconds, then smirked, his voice light but layered with meaning:
— "Can't say much about love, but when it comes to business, if a project ends up in your hands — I can sleep easy."
Ying glanced at him. This time, he didn't smile, but he didn't refute the statement either. In that gaze, some of the heaviness from earlier had quietly lifted.
————————————————————
In the brightly lit office, the soft sound of a pencil gliding across paper filled the quiet room. Chirawan was deeply focused on the design sheet in front of her, eyes serious, each line drawn with meticulous care.
The door opened gently. Isra stepped in, holding a cup of hot coffee, its subtle aroma quickly spreading through the air.
— "Here, have some coffee." Isra set the cup down softly, her voice carrying a gentle tone, as if afraid to break the other's concentration.
— "Mm, just leave it there." Chirawan didn't look up, her eyes still fixed on the drawing, her voice slightly absentminded.
Isra moved closer, her gaze curious as she looked at the design Chirawan was carefully completing. She tilted her head slightly:
— "These designs… don't you still have plenty of time for them? Why are you rushing so much?"
Chirawan's hand paused for a moment. Then she set the pencil down and leaned lightly back in her chair, lifting a hand to gently massage her neck like someone releasing tension after a long stretch.
— "Jay's flying back to France soon. I want to finish this early so I can set aside a bit of free time to hang out with that kid." Her voice was soft, but it couldn't hide the trace of emotion behind it.
— "He came back this time because of Mr. Sakda, and I've been busy preparing for the beach party. We barely got to see each other. Now he's about to leave… so I have to make the most of the time left."
Isra looked at her sister and smiled quietly. Her gaze softened:
— "You really care a lot about Jay, don't you?"
Chirawan turned to Isra, the corner of her lips lifting into a faint smile:
— "Of course. I think of him as family. He's been thoughtful and kind since he was little… honestly, sometimes I feel like I could learn a thing or two from that kid."
As she spoke, she bent back over her work, finishing the final touches on the design. Her calm expression carried a warmth when she mentioned Jay.
— "Yeah." Isra nodded, her eyes still on her sister. "Even though I haven't interacted much with Jay, I can feel it… he brings this really positive energy. He's smart and sensitive, too."
— "Exactly." Chirawan smiled, closing the folder of drafts. "There are some people who don't even have to try, and people still naturally like them. Jay's one of those."
She stood up, stretched, then turned to Isra:
— "All done. Let's go get lunch, I'm so hungry I can't think straight."
Isra laughed and stepped beside her:
— "Yes, let's go. I'm starving too. Next time I'll bring some sandwiches, okay?"
— "Good idea, but don't get the sweet kind. I need energy, not sugar," Chirawan joked as she headed to the door, her face noticeably more relaxed now.
The two of them left the office, soft laughter echoing behind them. On the desk, the cup of coffee still steamed gently beside the completed design — a quiet, wholehearted offering, filled with care and affection.
————————————————————
In the quiet house, the afternoon sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting gentle shadows on the wooden floor. Jay was upstairs, speaking in a calm voice as he gave instructions to the newly hired caregiver.
— "That's everything for now. If anything else comes up, I'll let you know." Jay spoke evenly, though there was a hint of fatigue in his tone. "The most important things are my father's health — his sleep and blood pressure need the most attention."
— "Yes, Mr. Jay," the caregiver nodded respectfully, her voice serious, showing she understood.
— "Alright then, please go ahead with your tasks. I have some things to take care of," Jay said with a faint smile, turning away. He looked as composed as always, yet there was a trace of hesitation in his eyes.
Downstairs, Mr. Sakda sat on the sofa, a newspaper in his hands, though his eyes were unfocused. When he heard the familiar footsteps, he turned slightly to look.
Jay approached and sat beside him.
— "Dad, I've gone over everything with her. From now on, she'll take care of things around the house. If you need anything, just let her know."
Mr. Sakda gave a small nod, then fell silent for a moment. It seemed he was weighing something in his mind.
— "…Jay," he said softly, calling his son's name like he was trying to ease into something.
Jay turned to him.
— "Hmm? What is it, Dad?"
Mr. Sakda's gaze lingered on Jay's face for a few seconds. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then slowly turned his head away, eyes drifting toward the window.
— "I just… Are you going out now?"
Jay frowned slightly, sensing the avoidance.
— "Yeah, I'm heading out. I have plans with Chirawan." He answered as usual, then quickly returned to the earlier point. "But… were you going to say something?"
Mr. Sakda pressed his lips together. The corner of the newspaper in his hands had been crumpled slightly. He let out a soft sigh, a gentle smile forming on his lips, though his eyes carried a deeper, more distant weight.
— "It's nothing. Go ahead."
Jay tilted his head slightly, unconvinced.
— "Are you sure?"
— "Mm. Go on. But… come back early." His voice was low but tender, tinged with an unnamed quiet.
Jay looked at his father for a long moment, as if debating whether to push further. Then he simply smiled and stood up.
— "Alright. I'll be back soon, Dad."
— "Okay," Mr. Sakda nodded, his eyes following his son's retreating figure.
The soft sound of the door closing echoed behind Jay. In the living room, Mr. Sakda remained still, placing the newspaper down on the table without reading another word. His gaze drifted into the distance, eyes heavy with something left unsaid.
…There were things he had always thought he would say when the time felt right.
But time slips by like the wind, and Jay was leaving again soon.
He didn't know how many more "next times" there would be — to finally speak the words he had kept in his heart.
EndofChapter32.