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I first saw him on a random night. I’ll admit it—I was completely wasted, too drunk to even remember where I was supposed to go.
He approached me with a worried expression, asking if I was alright and how he could help. I answered with slurred, incoherent words that barely made any sense. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to understand what I was saying.
The next morning, I woke up in his apartment with a pounding headache. He handed me a cup of coffee, and the first thing he said was, “Next time you drink, make sure you remember how to get home.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I apologized and told him I would repay his kindness someday, but he simply brushed it off. I still don’t understand why, but he only rolled his eyes and told me there was no need for that.
When I left his apartment, I made sure to remember both his face and the place. I wanted to see him again, but an emergency at one of my restaurants demanded my attention, so I couldn’t return right away. By the time I finally managed to go back, I discovered that he had already moved out. No one knew where he had gone.
Eventually, I accepted the possibility that I might never see him again. But fate, somehow, seemed to be on my side.
It was a chilly morning. Deliveries were arriving at the restaurant, and while I was managing them, I saw him again. He walked into the restaurant as if he were completely familiar with the place, like he had done this countless times before. He came in pushing a trolley, wearing a smile so bright that I couldn’t help but feel grateful I had decided to personally oversee the deliveries that day.
I took the opportunity to approach him, introduce myself properly, and ask if he remembered me.
“Hi, we meet again.”
His body froze instantly. He was so easy to read that I noticed it right away.
“You again?”
I couldn’t help but nod at his words. “Me again.”
A smile slowly spread across his face, as if he had just realized that fate had brought us together once more.
“I’m Net. And you are?” I asked, offering my hand to him.
He gladly accepted it. “JJ. I’m the one delivering your pastries.”
I glanced over at the boxes and immediately recognized them as some of our best-selling products. Everyone loved them.
“Are you the one who makes them too?” I asked, unable to stop myself. I wanted to keep talking to him. I wanted to hear his voice a little longer.
“Yeah, I made them.”
I smiled at his answer. “They’re one of our best sellers here. I’m glad to finally know the person behind them.”
He let out a soft chuckle, and I found myself studying him even more because of it.
“Thanks, by the way. Are you the new manager?” he asked while looking around, probably searching for the usual manager who handled the deliveries.
“Ah, no. He’s on vacation, so I took over for today.”
He nodded in understanding. “Oh, then where should we put these?” he asked, referring to the boxes of pastries on the trolley.
“Hmm, let me call my head chef.”
He nodded and waited patiently for the chef to come out.
“Chuay,” I called out, “can you have these taken inside?”
My head chef immediately nodded and motioned for his assistants to handle the deliveries.
“Oh, by the way, you just need to sign here to confirm you received everything,” JJ said as he handed me the papers. I signed them without hesitation.
Then, before I could lose my nerve, I spoke again.
“By the way… do you have some time?”
He looked up at me curiously.
“I still haven’t properly thanked you for helping me that night. I tried going back to your apartment, but they told me you’d already moved.”
A faint blush spread across his cheeks, and somehow, I found myself feeling shy too.
“U-uh… aren’t you busy?” he asked softly. “You still have a shift, right?”
I shook my head. “I think my restaurant can survive without me for one meal.”
His eyes widened at my words. He looked up at the restaurant’s name, then back at me again.
“You’re the owner of SRP Restaurant?”
I nodded, and his face turned even redder.
“O-oh.”
I chuckled softly at his reaction.
“It’s okay,” I assured him. “So… can I borrow some of your time?”
He glanced down at his watch for a moment before finally nodding in response.
“Then, would you like to eat somewhere else, or do you want to stay here?”
He looked around the restaurant before turning back to me. “Can we stay here instead?”
I nodded immediately and guided him to one of the VIP rooms.
His eyes were filled with curiosity as he scanned through the menu I handed him. He was incredibly expressive—his emotions were written all over his face, and somehow, that alone was enough to make my heart flutter.
After placing our orders, we settled into a comfortable silence. He kept glancing around the room while all my attention remained fixed on him.
“You’re staring pretty intensely,” he pointed out after a while.
I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling.
“I’m just studying you.”
His eyebrows furrowed instantly. “Why?”
See? He always asked whatever came to mind.
“Because you’re expressive,” I answered honestly. “You’re not afraid to show your emotions.”
A soft shade of pink slowly spread across his cheeks once again.
“You’re a flirt.”
Maybe he was right.
“But I don’t flirt with people easily.”
He tilted his head to the side, looking genuinely confused, almost like a puppy trying to understand its owner. “Huh?”
“I’m flirting with you because I want to know you better.”
At that point, I was convinced his face couldn’t get any redder—and yet it somehow did.
“You’re a bold person, Khun Net.”
“I’m only bold when I like someone, Khun JJ.”
The both of us burst into laughter at how ridiculous we sounded. We knew it too, and strangely enough, neither of us minded.
When our food arrived, the conversation flowed naturally. We asked questions about each other, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. It felt as though we had already known each other for years and were simply catching up after being apart for too long.
I was happy.
Truly happy.
In that moment, I felt content, and my heart felt unbearably full.
I offered to drive him home, but he declined. When I asked for his number, he refused that too.
His reason?
“If fate allows us to meet for a third time,” he said, “then maybe that’s our sign to really try.”
He told me he was already content knowing my name and discovering that I was the owner of the restaurant their bakery supplied pastries to. He asked me to wait for our paths to cross again instead of forcing things to happen.
Part of me wanted to disagree. I wanted to see him again as soon as possible.
But when I looked into his eyes and saw how sincere he was, I found myself unable to refuse.
So I agreed.
I watched him walk out of my restaurant carrying nothing but the hope that somehow, someday, our paths would cross again.
Weeks passed. Then those weeks slowly turned into months.
I grew impatient, constantly hoping our paths would cross again, even just once. But it never happened the way I wanted it to.
I went back to the club multiple times, hoping to find him there. He never appeared.
I returned to his old apartment too, only to hear the same thing again—he had moved. They told me I should stop looking for him already.
I personally accepted every pastry delivery from their bakery, yet he never came with them anymore.
Little by little, I started losing hope.
I wanted to see him again so badly, but eventually, I began to think that maybe our second meeting had been the end of our story.
Then came one of my family’s gala events—one I had been forced to attend.
And for the first time in my life, I was grateful that I went.
Because that was where I saw him again.
Across the crowded ballroom, I caught sight of him immediately. His expression was serious, the playful silliness I once knew nowhere to be seen. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, a glass of champagne resting in his hand. His hair was neatly styled, and he looked sharp—elegant in a way that made him almost unrecognizable from the JJ I had met before.
For a moment, I simply stood there and watched him, quietly studying the way he moved through the crowd and mingled with the guests around him.
Then, unable to stop myself, I walked toward him.
The moment he noticed me, shock flashed across his face. But he recovered quickly, masking it with a small smile.
“You again?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.
“Yes,” I answered softly, unable to stop my own smile. “Me again.”
A quiet laugh escaped both of us.
And at that moment, I realized fate had finally allowed our paths to cross once more.
We spent the entire night talking, telling each other about everything that had happened while we waited for fate to bring us together again. It felt easy—natural—like no matter how much time passed, we would always find our way back into each other’s orbit.
At one point, we were both laughing over something ridiculous when my parents suddenly approached us.
Their expressions immediately shifted into surprise upon seeing me with him.
JJ’s demeanor changed just as quickly. The softness in his features disappeared, replaced by a sharp, composed expression. In an instant, he looked every bit like someone raised in high society—calm, elegant, untouchable.
“I see you two have already met?” my mother said, glancing between us.
“You know him, Mom?” I asked, confused.
She nodded, looking oddly pleased by the situation unfolding in front of her.
“Of course. JJ, I’m glad you finally met Net.”
JJ’s face remained unreadable except for the faint smile resting on his lips.
Then my mother turned toward me. “Net, he’s the one I told you about. The one from England.”
The moment those words left her mouth, JJ’s expression cracked into pure shock and disbelief.
“It was you?” he asked quietly, staring at me as though everything suddenly made sense.
At that moment, the entire situation felt like some cruel joke orchestrated by fate itself.
“Is there a problem?” my mother asked, clearly confused by our reactions.
But instead of answering, JJ excused himself.
And just like that, he left me behind with questions that remained unanswered.
I tried to follow him, but once again, he disappeared without a trace—just like the first time.
After that night, I couldn’t find him anymore.
I returned to the place where we first met. I went back to his apartment. I visited their café over and over again. I searched every place I thought he might go.
Weeks turned into months.
Months turned into a year.
But I never stopped looking for him.
I bought the apartment building he used to live in. I bought the club where we first met. I even made their café our restaurant’s permanent supplier—all because some part of me kept hoping he would come back someday.
So I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I waited for as long as I could.
And perhaps fate finally took pity on me, because one day, it decided to bring him back.
Just like the first time we met, it happened on a random night—except this time, the rain poured heavily outside. I had just come from an event organized by Firstone and Tle for their son, Copper’s first birthday.
I decided to drink afterward. I had hoped to book a room at the hotel, but because of the storm, every room was fully booked, and I couldn’t secure one for myself.
I waited for Latte and Kim near the entrance since they had offered to drive me home. While sitting on the staircase, half-asleep and exhausted, I felt someone sit beside me. I didn’t bother looking at first, assuming it was no one important.
“You again?”
My eyes flew open at the sound of that voice. Even though the world around me seemed to spin, I managed to focus on his face. He was smiling—the same smile he had given me in the privacy of the VIP room at my restaurant, the same smile he wore when we talked at the event before my parents interrupted us.
“Me again,” I answered softly. Those were the only words I could manage before tears welled in my eyes.
I remember the quiet chuckle that escaped him as he reached for my hand. “Do you still have the energy to go home?”
I wanted to say yes, but instead, I shook my head and took his hand. We stumbled a little as we stood, but he kept me steady.
We walked back inside the hotel together. I caught Latte looking at me, but he simply nodded before leaving. He knew what I wanted. He knew I wanted to spend the night with him.
We stayed in his hotel room that night. He helped me change into some of his clothes, though they fit tightly in certain places. Then he lay beside me, his hand wrapped around mine. We spent the entire night holding onto each other.
Fear settled deep in my chest. I was terrified that when I woke up, he would be gone again. I fell asleep clinging to the fear that the moment I opened my eyes, he would disappear.
But morning came, and when I woke up, he was still there.
He looked at me curiously, as though he were trying to memorize every detail of my face. I couldn’t stop the tears from forming again, though I no longer felt the need to hide them from him. I decided not to question it anymore, because simply having him beside me made my heart feel at peace.
“You again?” he teased playfully. It was the kind of question that no longer needed an answer, because he already knew—because we both knew.
“Yes,” I whispered. “It’s me again.”
“You left that night,” I said quietly, almost afraid to speak the words aloud. Part of me feared that if I said them too clearly, everything would shatter—that I would wake up and realize he had truly left.
“I was afraid,” he admitted. “Shocked that it was really you.”
The confusion on my face must have shown immediately.
“When I was in England, my mom would often call me about someone she wanted me to meet,” he began softly. “She said he was the son of one of her longtime friends. His name was Siraphop. I told you before that I would give you my information once we met for the third time. That night, I was supposed to meet that person… but I met you first instead.”
Silence settled between us.
“You told me your name was Net Siraphop, which was why your restaurant was called SRP. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence. Siraphop is a common name, so I buried the thought in the back of my mind and stopped thinking about it.”
Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Everything finally made sense.
“When your mom arrived, she told you that I was the person they had been talking about all along—the son of her friend who studied in England.”
“Net! We’ve already talked about this! His parents are close friends of our family!”
It was another pointless argument. No matter how many times I refused, they continued pushing the idea onto me.
“Mom, no. I’m already dating someone. Can we please stop talking about this?”
“I heard what happened after I returned to Thailand,” he continued quietly. “I didn’t tell my family I was coming home, but somehow they still found out. That’s why I had to leave my apartment and quit my job.”
The apartment where we first met. The place where I woke up beside him for the first time.
“I was scared because I didn’t want to be forced into meeting you. I told you to wait until our third meeting because I was hoping I would never have to meet that Siraphop.” He let out a bitter chuckle. “But I didn’t realize that the person I was trying so hard to avoid was the same person I had been longing to see again.”
Tears stained both our faces. We had both been afraid, never realizing how fate kept pulling us around each other until our paths crossed once more.
“When I realized everything, the first thing I did was run away,” he admitted. “I was terrified that you would hate me.”
I held his hands tightly and looked straight into his eyes. “I never could. None of this was ever your fault.”
He shook his head, tears still slipping down his cheeks.
“I know that,” he whispered, “but because of our parents constantly interfering in your relationship back then, your happiness was ruined.”
I shook my head immediately, refusing to let him carry that blame. I knew he never wanted any of it to happen.
“JJ, what happened between me and him had nothing to do with you in any way.”
His eyes reflected the questions he was too afraid to ask.
“We were already having problems,” I admitted. “We thought getting married would fix everything, but it didn’t.”
Confessing it to him was harder than I expected.
Telling him how deeply we once loved each other, only to wake up one day and realize that love was no longer there. That no matter how hard we tried, no matter how desperately we tried to repair it, some things were simply beyond fixing.
I told him everything. I laid myself bare before him—every broken piece, every hidden truth, every version of who I was. And through all of it, he stayed.
He held me through every version of myself.
He held me, and for the first time in a long while, I felt safe.
He held me, and I finally understood the difference between being loved… and being chosen.
I loved you during the most carefree days of my life. I loved you blindly, without hesitation, and I offered you my heart without fear.
But with him, it was different.
I loved him so deeply that I was willing to see everything—the flaws, the fears, the truths that could hurt me. I loved him honestly, bravely. I gave him not only my heart, but my soul. Every version of who I was belonged to him.
And now… now he would be the one walking down the aisle, while I waited for him at the end of it.
“I’m glad to hear that,” you said softly. “I’m happy to know that, P’ Net.”
After three years of running away from this conversation, we were finally able to have it.
“I… I’m truly happy that you found the kind of love you always wanted with him.”
Your smile was genuine. I could see it clearly in your eyes, even through the tears threatening to fall.
“I’m happy for both of you, P’Net. JJ.”
I looked down at our hands—the way you gently placed them together.
“Will you come?” he asked suddenly.
Confusion flickered across your face.
“Will you come tomorrow… to our wedding?”
You smiled again, though the sadness in your eyes remained impossible to hide.
“No.”
Both of us looked at you with concern, but you only smiled wider—the kind of smile I realized I no longer understood the way I once did.
“It’s your day,” you said quietly. “And I don’t want to ruin it. If I come, people will talk, and I don’t want that. But I hope both of you know how genuinely happy I am for you.”
You wiped away your tears before giving us one final, sincere smile. Then you turned and walked away.
You didn’t let us say goodbye.
But somehow, we all understood that this was already the end. The closure we had needed for so long. The final chapter of our story together.
Tomorrow would mark the beginning of mine with him—with JJ.
Somewhere in Thailand…
“You know,” one of the women laughed, “I’m still confused about how JJ and Net ended up marrying each other when I was so sure it would be JJ and my son.”
The three women burst into laughter at how unexpectedly everything had turned out.
“I don’t mind anymore,” another said warmly. “My son is happy, and that’s enough for me. I’m glad he ended up with JJ.”
“I just hope my own son finds someone who makes him just as happy,” the third added, making the others laugh once again.
“It’s still funny to me that my Net met your JJ first,” one woman teased, glancing at the other. “Before your Phupha even had the chance.”
“Well,” the other replied with a fond smile, “my son can be a little slow. But honestly, I don’t care who he marries. I’ll welcome anyone with all my heart as long as my Phupha is happy.”
“It feels like only yesterday when we used to laugh about our sons both being named Siraphop… and now one of them is getting married.”
“Oh, fate really is strange, isn’t it?”
The three women could only laugh in agreement, because fate truly had a funny way of weaving people together.
For four people who had spent so long orbiting around one another, it was inevitable that their paths would eventually cross.