Denied Love

12.Rumors

The alarm clock did its job at 6:30 AM, just like every morning. It was

another day where Praenarin lost to Khemjira, the woman who was naked and reached out to turn off the annoying sound.

Then she lay under the blanket as usual. But her beautiful eyelids opened to glance at the closed curtains. The room was almost completely dark. The air conditioner was still cold, and there was no one lying beside her, just like before.

"That hurts."

When she felt that her sensitive area was sore, showing it had been used too much, Praenarin raised her hand to cover her face, feeling embarrassed for allowing her temporary wife, Khemjira, to do such things to her. Her lower body ached from being pushed for so long.

"Does it hurt?"

A familiar voice came from behind her. Praenarin jumped up quickly and turned to look at the person who shouldn’t have been in the bed by now.

"What!"

"What did you say? Did I hurt you? Do you want me to rub it to comfort you?"

Khemjira quickly got up. As the thick blanket fell off her, exposing her naked body, Praenarin, who had just complained about the pain, glanced down at her bust and swallowed. When she realized Khemjira had caught her looking, she immediately turned her gaze away with a guilty look.

"How naughty! Why are you still here? Aren’t you supposed to be going to work?"

"Actually, I can work from home one day a week. I’ve never used that benefit before, so today I asked the team if I could work from home,"

Khemjira said with a cheerful expression, happy to see how beautiful her wife looked when she woke up, even though her face still had that proud look.

"But you still need to deliver your work. How can you not go?"

"Yes, I’ll go. I’ll see you at the office, my dear wife. But for now, I’m going to sleep a little longer, until about 7:30."

After saying that, Khemjira leaned in and kissed her lips, making a pleasant sound. Then she turned over to lie on her side, not wanting to fight for the bathroom with her wife.

" "

This was the first morning kiss Khemjira had given her since they got married. Praenarin didn't protest or say anything about it. Her delicate hand lifted to touch her own lips and stared at the back of her wife for several seconds.

A strange feeling began to grow inside her without her realizing it. The intimacy in bed made her want Khemjira, but at the same time, she also wanted her to leave.

.

.

After printing the documents she needed to deliver to Praenarin, Khemjira arrived at the department around 3 PM to wait for her after her meeting at 4 PM. Some people had also requested to work from home, just like her, since everyone had been assigned new tasks and there were no team meetings.

But her mentor was still working in the department.

"Oh, Khem! I thought you said you weren’t coming in today,"

Said her senior, Jay, who was working when she noticed Khemjira. Today, Khemjira dressed more casually than usual and was holding documents.

“I have to deliver the work to the boss,”

Khemjira said as she greeted her senior team member and sat down at her desk, looking around for her mentor. Jay leaned in and whispered that the other person was on a secret mission.

“He went out to get some news. I heard there’s a rumor going around about the boss today, so Balloon went out to investigate. He’ll be back soon.”

“Rumor?”

Khemjira raised her eyebrows, looking curious.

“Hey, Khem's here! I’ve heard some gossip among the staff. They’re saying the boss’s husband isn’t you…”

Before the person being talked about could enter the room, she walked in, looking excited. Everyone in the room sat up and started paying attention. The gossip that Balloon brought to light made Khemjira nervous again.

She was worried they might have already figured out that she was Boss Rin's wife, the one everyone had been whispering about.

“Ha! If it’s not you, then who is the lucky one?” “It's Khem!”

Khemjira jumped when Balloon suddenly called her name. “Wh-what?”

Her heart skipped a beat as she thought everyone must already know. She wanted them to find out eventually, but the thought of everyone looking at her with different eyes made her nervous.

“Do you know what’s going on? If you do, you should share! That way, we won’t miss out on any news. We might even be the first to know.”

“I don’t know anything,”

Khemjira said with a nervous smile, wiping sweat off her forehead.

What had started as just the three of them talking soon turned into a small group of the girls from the team gathering around. It seemed like office gossip and rumors were the most interesting things in their lives.

“Whoever can win her heart, that person deserves all the praise. Boss Rin is so cold, and if someone can melt her heart, it’s really impressive,”

A senior team member said. Khemjira just glanced over but didn’t say anything. The conversation continued without them realizing that the person they were talking about was sitting right there.

"I heard she's not even a man. Well, that makes sense, since Boss Rin's ex- girlfriend was a woman. So, she's probably marrying a woman too."

"By the way, this relationship probably didn’t last that long. Boss and P'Phai only got together less than a year before they breakup. After their breakup, Boss Rin looked really sad, everyone could tell. So much so that the chairman had to take over her work for a while."

Hearing her own wife being talked about, Khemjira quietly listened and absorbed the information. She knew how much her wife had hurt during the initial breakup, but it was hard to believe someone like her could be so upset that she had to leave work to her father.

Still, Khemjira thought it seemed like she was doing much better now. She allowed herself to think it was probably because her wife had her.

"I think the person who made Boss fall in love enough to marry must be the type of person who can heal wounds—someone with a bright energy to melt her heart. Boss just seems different now."

"Different?"

Asked someone new to the team, who didn't know much about her, looking curious and paying attention.

"Yeah, before, Boss seemed so tense. I heard people say every meeting room felt like it was on fire—really heated. You know, like the coldest kind of fire. It may not look intense, but it’s the hottest. You could burn your

finger if you touched it."

"And how about now?" Khemjira couldn't help but listen closely.

"Now, Boss seems more calm, like after a meeting, everything ends easily. It’s not as intense as before. I’m not sure why, but I’ve even heard she nearly fell asleep in a meeting once. She’s changed a lot. Maybe it’s

because she’s married now? They say this happens to everyone once they have a partner."

After hearing her colleagues’ long analysis, Khemjira swallowed hard. The last sentence might have been...

Because now, she had the privilege of interrupting her wife’s sleep every day, and the speaker was interpreting and analyzing everything so accurately. No wonder they worked in the research and development

department—those office girls were most dangerous when gossiping. "Wait a minute, did you just say 'puppy type'? What does that mean?"

Jay interrupted, raising an eyebrow, before the modern-era colleague who loved using trendy terms explained.

"Oh, you don’t know? The Elsa queen type and puppy type go hand in hand. One’s tough, and the other’s affectionate and caring. Just thinking about it is so satisfying."

"You guys are something else. I’m just sharing news, not gossiping. Gossiping about the boss is all fun and games, but be careful, you might end up getting fired without realizing it,"

Balloon, who had been the one spreading the rumors, had to warn them.

"Who said it's gossip? It’s called fangirling! You don’t know what that is? You’re so old-fashioned," one of them teased.

"Talk about being old! I’m only in my early thirties!" "Old in terms of vocabulary, I mean," another quipped.

After the banter settled down, the group of gossips started to disperse. Khemjira almost burst out laughing at what Balloon had said while also gossiping. Her coworkers were funny, in their own way.

But she couldn’t help noticing two people—Khun Ji and Khun Hong— staring at her with unfriendly expressions, even though they smiled.

Khemjira was sure that the art of reading someone through their eyes never lied.

.

.

At four in the afternoon, Khemjira entered the office as everyone’s favorite assistant, as instructed by Mathura, her boss’s secretary. A few minutes

later, the owner of the room returned, the familiar sound of her high heels echoing.

"Right on time,"

Praenarin lifted her wristwatch to check the time before placing her things down on the desk and slumping into the couch, tired from a two-hour meeting.

"Of course! If I were late, what would happen if Boss Rin, everyone’s beautiful boss, got mad? I'd be the one on display for everyone to see,"

Khemjira said as she sat down next to her wife, flashing a bright smile, hoping it might help her feel less tired. However, it seemed to have the opposite effect, as her wife looked more annoyed.

"Stop talking so much. Where’s the work I asked for? If it’s not done, just admit it and surrender. It’ll be easier for both of us,"

Praenarin replied. At that moment, Mathura, the personal secretary, brought over a cold drink since Praenarin didn’t drink coffee after three. Once the third person left the room, Khemjira handed over the printed reports she had prepared.

"Who said that? I finished it already."

When Praenarin saw the reports, her face fell for a moment before she picked them up to review.

Her delicate fingers flipped through the pages one by one, showing a slight look of surprise as she continued. Praenarin hadn’t expected her to finish everything in just one day, and the report was so organized and detailed.

"Where did you find the time to do this?"

Praenarin asked, giving Khemjira a skeptical look before placing the papers back on the guest table. No wonder she looked so pleased; she had expected Khemjira to come in looking defeated, admitting that she didn’t finish on time.

"You probably don’t know, but I write a report about what I do every day for an hour before finishing work. So today, I just gathered everything

together and rearranged it. Simple and easy," Khemjira explained.

Praenarin crossed her arms, sighing. Her wife had won again. And she was even looking cheerful about it. She wondered when she would ever beat her at anything.

"Are you dissatisfied because I finished early? I usually finish things quickly anyway. Back in school, they used to call me,

‘Khem with the fast fingers.’ Everyone called me that."

Khemjira boasted, bragging about her speed and efficiency in getting things done.

Khemjira’s playful comment about being fast with her fingers had caused a reaction in Praenarin that she hadn't expected.

She could feel her face heating up, a mix of embarrassment and an odd rush of thoughts invading her mind, reminding her of the moments when

Khemjira used to hand in homework. That nickname did seem to suit her well.

"What's wrong? Why are you blushing all of a sudden?"

Khemjira asked with a concerned tilt of her head. She wondered if her wife had overworked herself, but the response she got was the opposite.

Praenarin suddenly stood up, looking flustered and acting distant, her tone sharp.

"It’s nothing. Once you’re done, you can leave,"

Praenarin said coldly, trying to regain control of the situation.

Khemjira was a bit confused, but she didn't take offense. She quickly stood up and, from her pocket, pulled out a small piece of chocolate that she had brought for her wife, knowing she’d been in meetings all day.

"Here, I thought you might need something sweet to recharge," Khemjira said, offering the chocolate.

"Why would I need to recharge?"

Praenarin asked, crossing her arms, her gaze narrowing as she took the

chocolate reluctantly. She held it in her hand but looked at Khemjira with a piercing look, as though trying to understand her motives.

"Why not?"

Khemjira replied with a grin. She pressed the chocolate into her wife’s hand before Praenarin could argue further. Praenarin just clenched her jaw and stared at her, looking as if she were trying to figure out what Khemjira was really trying to do.

"Why the sudden sweet gesture? Do you have some hidden agenda?"

Praenarin asked, raising an eyebrow, her expression full of suspicion.

Khemjira realized that her wife must have misunderstood, thinking that the gift was related to her struggling with work the previous night.

"I’m heading home now,"

Khemjira said, her tone light, as she backed away. She didn’t respond to the question, just smiled knowingly and gently pressed her lips against Praenarin's, before turning and walking out.

"You little brat!"

Praenarin muttered under her breath, staring at the door after Khemjira had left. She absentmindedly touched her lips, still feeling the lingering warmth of the kiss. She clenched her fists in frustration.

The younger woman seemed to always know how to get under her skin, with her teasing, her ability to speak in a way that made her feel both frustrated and amused at the same time.

Praenarin couldn’t deny how much energy Khemjira drained from her every night, yet she had also never been able to stop herself from wanting more.

And now, she was being playfully taunted with chocolate. It was getting to be a bit too much.

.

.

Praenarin continued working until 5 PM, still not packing her things to go home when her phone suddenly rang. She picked it up, expecting it to be her friend calling to invite her out for drinks. But to her surprise, it wasn’t. The number on the screen was one she hadn’t seen in a long time.

“P' Praenarin, are you free this evening?”

The voice on the other end was sweet and familiar. It made Praenarin smile, though it was mixed with a sense of nostalgia. She hadn’t heard from this person since they parted ways, and the fact that they were reaching out now made her heart flutter.

Since their breakup, Phrai had hardly thought of her, only sending a few texts now and then. Praenarin was the one who still kept in touch, checking in occasionally when the longing became unbearable. Most recently, she had sent an invitation to her wedding.

“Yes, I’m free. What’s up?”

Praenarin stopped what she was doing and focused entirely on the call.

“It's my birthday today. I wanted to invite you to have dinner with me. I want to eat something nice, but I don’t want to go alone. Can you come with me?”

Phrai’s voice carried a hint of hesitation, but it was clear that she really wanted Praenarin's company.

For a moment, Praenarin paused, her thoughts racing. She quickly checked her calendar, confirming that it was indeed Phrai's birthday. How had she

forgotten the birthday of the person she once loved the most? She let out a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions.

“Then let’s meet at our usual restaurant around 7pm.” "Okay! I'll wait for you then."

After hanging up, Praenarin started packing up her things at her desk, getting ready for her meeting with her ex-lover. But before she could finish, her phone buzzed again with a new message.

Thinking it was from her ex, she quickly picked it up—only to see that it was actually from her young wife.

.

Banana-head girl:

Khem is helping Aunt Malai make dinner. I'm making your favorite omelet too! Do you want anything special?

.

She had even sent a picture of the kitchen, where the housekeeper was already cooking. Normally, by the time Praenarin got home, dinner would be ready.

.

Nin:

No need. I'm eating out tonight. Tell my dad not to wait for me. I might be home late.

Banana-head girl:

Where? Can you tell me? If you get drunk, I can come pick you up.

Nin:

Why should I tell you?

Banana-head girl:

Because I'm your caring wife, of course!

.

Wanting to leave quickly, Praenarin carelessly typed the name of the restaurant before shoving her belongings into her bag and heading straight to her car. Her mind was busy planning everything—the cake she needed to get for her ex-lover, the birthday gift she hadn’t bought yet.

But none of it felt like a big problem. She’d just get a bottle of perfume, like she always did, and ask the restaurant to arrange a cake. That way, Phrai wouldn't feel forgotten on such an important day.

She stopped to buy the gift first, then spent another hour stuck in traffic before finally arriving at the restaurant. It was a French-style place, cozy

and warm, with large glass windows overlooking a row of charming little cafés. Back when she and her ex were together, this was their go-to spot.

As soon as she stepped inside, the soft chime of the doorbell welcomed her. Cool air-conditioning hit her skin, and her eyes quickly found a stunning young woman waiting in the familiar corner where they used to sit.

"Phrai, have you been waiting long?"

Still in her work clothes, she walked over and took a seat across from the woman. When a bright smile appeared on her ex-lover’s beautiful face, it felt like a tiny flower had just bloomed in her heart.

"Thank you for coming."

"I had to come. It's your birthday. Is it just the two of us tonight?"

Praenarin smiled faintly. She knew it was wrong to let herself feel this way again. And it was even worse—falling for someone who already belonged to someone else, while she herself was married. But if blame had to be placed, she would take it all upon herself.

"You know I have no one else but you. My parents live in another province. Just getting a birthday call from them is already a big deal," Phrai said.

Her words made Phraenarin fall silent. Every year, Phrai had only her. She had left everything behind to work in the city, and ever since they met at that lesbian bar, Praenarin had been the only person she had. Close friends were hard to meet up with, and most of the people in her life now were just colleagues.

"What about your boyfriend?"

Phrai didn’t answer. She just gave a weak smile and shook her head. That was enough for Praenarin to understand how her love life had been since they broke up.

The last time she saw Phrai, there were red marks on her face. That alone had made Praenarin doubt that Phrai’s new lover was a kind person. But to not even celebrate her birthday? That was just cruel.

She must really love that man. Even though he clearly didn’t value her love at all.

"Forget it. Just order whatever you want. It's my treat tonight." "Thank you."

After they placed their orders, Praenarin noticed a small red mark on Phrai's upper arm. It looked slightly bruised. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the delicate woman sitting in front of her.

"Phrai, can I ask you something?" "Yes?"

"That mark… who did that to you?"

The moment Praenarin pointed at it, Phrai quickly pulled her sleeve down to cover it and smiled as if nothing had happened. She looked like a doll, speaking politely to a stranger. The warmth in her eyes from their past love was completely gone. But still, Praenarin could tell—Phrai felt at ease being with her.

"It's nothing. I'm just clumsy. I bumped into something."

Since Phrai clearly didn’t want to answer, Praenarin didn’t push further. Phrai had always been gentle and quiet, but right now, she wished Phrai would just break character—say something, open up, share whatever she was going through.

It was obvious from her face that she was troubled, yet she stayed silent, so much so that it felt like Praenarin didn’t even know her anymore.

Still, she had a strong feeling that no one else could’ve hurt Phrai like this

—except her new boyfriend. She wanted to know who he was. If she found out, she'd walk right up to him and ask if he was the one who left that mark on Phrai’s body. But even if he was, what could she do? Phrai wasn’t complaining, wasn’t asking for help.

They ate together, chatting about random things. For a while, Praenarin felt happy—having this moment with someone she still loved.

She had no idea that someone was watching.

Across the street, Khemjira stood still, staring through the restaurant’s large window. She watched her wife smiling at another woman.

Her usually bright eyes dimmed in an instant. Tears welled up before finally spilling over, exposing her own weakness.

She had followed her here, thinking she would be out drinking with friends and might not make it home. She watched from a distance, making sure not to be noticed, out of concern. But she never expected to see this.

The person who always insisted that she would never love again, that she would never let anyone into her heart—there she was, sitting right in front of her, proving that it was all a lie.

She still loved that woman, completely and wholeheartedly. Maybe she always would. Even after all the pain and betrayal, her heart still belonged to her.

Khemjira was usually cheerful, almost all the time. But deep down, she was weak too. And jealous.

She had never once received that kind of smile from her. The smile that showed how much someone meant to her. Even from a distance, she could tell—Praenarin was happy. Truly happy. Happier than she ever was when they were together.

With a quiet sigh, Khemjira wiped away her tears, forcing herself to act like it didn’t matter. She didn’t belong here. She shouldn’t stand around like

some jealous fool, staring at her own wife with longing eyes, knowing full well that she would never be loved in return.

She turned back to her car and drove away.

.

.

Meanwhile, inside the restaurant, Praenarin knew that the special moment was approaching. Just five more minutes.

She reached into her bag, ready to pull out the birthday gift. She knew how much Phrai loved perfumes and had chosen one just for her.

"Phrai, I have—"

Before she could finish, Phrai’s phone rang. She stopped mid-sentence as Phrai quickly answered. A smile spread across her lips—a smile so radiant, it was as if a candle had just been lit in her heart.

"Yes… Really? I’ll be there right away!"

Her eyes sparkled, so different from before.

Whatever the call was about, it had changed everything.

After hanging up, the sorrow that had been lingering in her expression was gone. In its place was a soft, gentle smile—one that reached her eyes for the first time that night.

"P’Rin, my boyfriend threw me a birthday party. I have to go now," Phrai said, quickly grabbing her bag.

Praenarin froze, unsure of what to say. She could only stare in confusion. "And...?"

"Thank you so much for having dinner with me. See you later," Phrai said with a sweet smile before turning to leave.

Praenarin felt a wave of numbness wash over her, but she forced a smile in return. She kept up the act until Phrai disappeared from sight. Then, her

fingers slowly uncurled, releasing the small gift box she had been holding in her pocket.

She didn’t know what to do.

Everything around her blurred as if she were floating in empty space. She didn’t feel like crying. She didn’t feel like laughing. She didn’t feel anything at all. It was as if something inside her had shut down completely.

The surrounding noises faded into an indistinct hum, like standing in the middle of a music festival while deafened by silence. It wasn't until a waitress approached her that she was pulled back to reality.

"Miss, here’s the cake you ordered."

Praenarin looked at the vanilla cake in the waitress’s hands. Then it hit her

—the real owner of this cake had already left it behind.

"Please wrap it back up. I’ll take it home. And the check, please," She said, regaining her composure.

Once the waitress walked away, she sat there, squeezing her cold hands together and taking a deep breath to steady herself.

Never mind. This is what happens when people break up.

It was foolish to think that Phrai would be happier having dinner with her rather than celebrating with her boyfriend.