Author's Thoughts:
For the best experience, I recommend searching for the songs
"Ostani za vedno – acoustic version" for T&K's wedding
and "Rad bi ti povedal" for A&V on YouTube,
and playing them while reading this chapter.
Anamarija clapped her hands softly.
"Alright," she said, wiping the last of her tears with a composed breath. "Second wedding."
Non let out a quiet whistle. "We're really doing a double feature tonight."
I finally loosened my grip on Chak, though our fingers stayed intertwined.
Then I looked down at the bouquet in my hands.
The one Chak had given me.
For a second, I hesitated.
And then I turned to Taeng.
He was still red from crying during our kiss, trying very hard to look unaffected.
"Taeng," I said gently.
He blinked at me.
I stepped toward him and placed the bouquet in his hands.
It felt symbolic.
Intentional.
His fingers wrapped around the stems slowly, like he understood what it meant.
His throat moved when he swallowed.
"Go," I murmured.
He nodded.
Then, taking a steady breath, he walked to the starting point Anamarija had chosen earlier.
Kit watched him the entire time.
Not joking.
Not teasing.
Just watching.
Anamarija pulled out her phone again.
"This one is different," she said softly.
A new melody began to play.
Lighter. Piano. The same voice like earlier.
Warmer.
There was still emotion in it, but this one felt… hopeful.
Less aching.
Kit raised a brow. "Should I be worried?"
"Probably," Non muttered under his breath.
Anamarija pointed at Kit. "Stand straight."
Kit instantly obeyed, which made all of us stare at him.
He cleared his throat. "What? It's a wedding."
Taeng stood at the beginning of the path, holding the bouquet carefully.
Anamarija looked at him.
"When I say now."
He nodded.
The music swelled gently.
The voice singing was soft, almost playful — but sincere.
"Now," Anamarija said.
Taeng started walking.
Slowly at first.
Then steadier.
His shoulders straightened.
His eyes locked onto Kit.
And something shifted in the air.
This wasn't dramatic like ours.
It wasn't heavy.
It was… honest.
Kit didn't move.
Didn't joke.
Didn't break eye contact.
And for the first time since I'd known him—
he looked vulnerable.
When Taeng finally stopped in front of him, he handed the bouquet to Anamarija, who took it with a soft smile.
Kit let out a breath he had clearly been holding.
"Well," he said quietly, "this escalated quickly."
Taeng rolled his eyes. "Shut up."
But he was smiling.
And this time—
it wasn't guarded.
It was open.
What are they singing about? Kit asked Anamarija.
She looked them with a sparkle in her eyes. When she said with a calm voice:
"They sing about how the love between you two is unbreakable; it's a promise that you will stay with each other forever and your hearts will always find their way back home."
"When you look at the stars, you feel the same heartbeat, and in the silence, you read each other's minds without a single word. Remember, billions of people spend their whole lives searching for what you two already carry within you."
She looked at Kit first.
"Kit," she said calmly, "do you accept Taeng… not just as your partner in chaos, not just as the person who argues with you the most… but as the one you choose. Freely. Every day."
Kit inhaled.
For once, no sarcastic comment came.
He looked at Taeng — really looked at him.
"I do," he said.
Simple.
Clear.
Certain.
Anamarija turned to Taeng.
"Taeng… do you accept Kit. Not just for his confidence, not just for his strength… but for the heart he doesn't show everyone."
Taeng's lips trembled slightly.
"I do," he answered, without breaking eye contact.
Anamarija took a slow breath.
"Today, in front of those who know you — truly know you — I declare you chosen by each other."
Non clapped immediately this time.
Amara laughed softly through tears.
Pim was already crying again.
Anamarija smiled at them both with a tears.
And said clearly:
"Kit… you may kiss your groom."
She finished the sentence.
And then—
Kit moved.
He grabbed Taeng by the waist without warning and pulled him into a dramatic wedding dip.
Taeng gasped, gripping his shoulders instinctively as Kit lowered him back with effortless confidence.
And then Kit kissed him.
Not soft.
Not slow.
But bold.
Claiming.
Joyful.
When he pulled him back up, he didn't let go.
Instead, he spun him in a full circle right there in the middle of the garden.
Laughter erupted around us.
Kit stopped, holding Taeng securely against him, and grinned.
"Well," he said loudly, "now we're married, Mr. Khaengkad."
Taeng's face turned completely red.
"Kiki!"
But Kit only laughed and kissed him again.
Forehead.
Cheek.
Temple.
Nose.
Everywhere.
"Stop it!" Taeng protested, though he was smiling so hard it ruined the effect.
And that was when I heard it again.
A soft sniff.
Anamarija was crying.
Again.
This time openly.
Laughing and crying at the same time.
Vikran stepped closer to her instinctively, like he had earlier, staying near — protective without touching unless she allowed it.
I felt something warm settle in my chest.
I leaned gently into Chak's side.
"New love on the horizon," I murmured quietly, glancing toward Anamarija and Vikran.
Chak followed my gaze.
His arm slipped around my waist without hesitation, pulling me closer against him.
"I see it," he said softly.
Then he looked down at me.
"I'm happy."
Not loud.
Not performative.
Just honest.
I tilted my head slightly toward him.
"Me too."
In front of us, Kit was still showering Taeng with ridiculous, dramatic affection.
The front of us, a new story was quietly beginning.
And under the garden lights, surrounded by people who chose love despite everything—
for the second time that night—
the world felt exactly right.
The applause hadn't even fully settled when Kit suddenly let go of Taeng and strode straight toward us.
Before I could react, he wrapped his arms around Chak in a tight, unrestrained hug.
"Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion and adrenaline. "For everything."
Chak, caught off guard for half a second, actually laughed — a soft, real sound — and hugged him back.
At the same time, Taeng stepped toward me.
He didn't say anything.
He just pulled me into his arms.
I felt his shoulders shaking slightly — not from sadness, but from the overwhelming rush of it all.
"You did it first," he murmured against my ear. "You made it possible."
I swallowed hard.
Then suddenly—
everyone was there.
Non threw an arm around Kit and Taeng at the same time.
Amara and Pim joined in, laughing and crying.
Chak's hand found mine again, fingers intertwining naturally, instinctively.
And for a moment, under the night sky, surrounded by flowers and soft lights—
we were just us. Newlyweds couple. I felt so warmth in me.
Just love.
Chak leaned closer to me.
His lips brushed the shell of my ear.
"Niran Phanprasit," he whispered slowly.
My heart stopped.
"It sounds perfect."
Heat rushed through me instantly.
I turned to look at him, but he was already watching me — calm, certain, like he had just claimed something inevitable. He kissed me.
Before I could answer—
music began to play again.
The same for our wedding.
Softer this time.
Warmer.
It wasn't ceremonial anymore.
It was intimate.
"A wedding dance," Non announced dramatically. "Oh no. We are not emotionally prepared."
But we were.
We moved back toward the center of the garden.
Non pulled Amara and Pim into an exaggerated three-person dance circle, spinning them both until they shrieked with laughter.
Kit grabbed Taeng again without hesitation.
"You're not escaping," he declared.
Taeng barely had time to protest before Kit kissed him again — right there, under the lights.
Slow.
Lingering.
Possessive in the softest way.
I shook my head, smiling.
"They're not going to survive tonight," I murmured.
Chak slid one arm around my waist, drawing me close.
I let myself lean into him.
Rested my head against his shoulder.
His heartbeat was steady.
Grounding.
Across the garden, I saw Vikran hesitate for just a moment.
Then he straightened.
Took a breath.
And walked toward Anamarija.
She was standing slightly apart now, watching everyone with that same glowing, emotional softness still in her eyes.
He stopped in front of her.
"May I have this dance?" he asked.
Not teasing.
Not arrogant.
Just hopeful.
She studied him for a second.
Then she smiled.
"Yes."
He exhaled — almost like he hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath.
He placed one hand carefully at her waist.
She rested hers on his shoulder.
They began to move slowly.
At first, there was space between them.
Respectful distance.
But as the music carried on, that space grew smaller.
They looked at each other the way people do when something new is unfolding and neither wants to scare it away.
Curious.
Careful.
Drawn in.
Chak's fingers tightened slightly at my waist.
"I'm happy" he murmured again.
"I know," I whispered.
And I meant it.
Under the soft garden lights, Kit dipped Taeng once more just to make him laugh.
Non nearly tripped over Amara.
Pim clapped along to the music.
And Vikran—
Vikran looked at Anamarija like she was something miraculous.
As the song neared its end, he did something unexpected.
He leaned in.
Paused just long enough for her to realize what was happening—
And pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.
Soft.
Tentative.
Brave.
Anamarija froze.
Her eyes widened slightly in surprise.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause again.
Vikran pulled back just enough to search her face, unsure.
But she didn't step away.
She didn't look angry.
She just looked… startled.
And maybe—
just maybe—
a little breathless.
I lifted my head from Chak's shoulder and watched them.
"Definitely a new love," I whispered.
Chak hummed quietly in agreement.
And beneath the music, the laughter, and the lingering warmth of two weddings—
something else had begun.
For a second, no one moved.
Vikran's hand was still lightly resting at Anamarija's waist.
Her fingers were still curled against his shoulder.
The place where he had kissed her cheek seemed to burn brighter than the garden lights.
"I—" Vikran started, then stopped himself. For once, he didn't have the perfect line ready. "I'm sorry. I just… wanted to."
Honest.
No performance.
No charm.
Just truth.
Anamarija blinked once.
Twice.
Then, slowly, her surprise softened into something else.
"You always act first and think later?" she asked quietly.
A hint of challenge.
A hint of curiosity.
Vikran smiled — not his usual teasing grin.
Something smaller. Realer.
"Only when it matters."
Silence lingered between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
It was new.
Unwritten.
Behind me, Kit loudly declared, "If this turns into a third wedding tonight, I demand a bonus speech."
Non gasped dramatically. "We are not emotionally insured for that."
Laughter rippled through the garden again, breaking the tension just enough.
Anamarija finally stepped half a pace back — but she didn't let go of Vikran completely.
Her hand slid from his shoulder down to his wrist.
A quiet anchor.
"You came at the right time," she said softly.
His brows lifted. "Did I?"
"Yes."
She held his gaze a moment longer.
Then, gently, she released him.
"We'll see what you do with it."
And she turned away — not escaping, not flustered.
Just composed.
But I saw it.
The faint color in her cheeks.
The way her fingers brushed once over the spot on her face where he had kissed her.
Vikran watched her like someone who had just stepped onto a battlefield and realized he was willing to fight.
I leaned more fully into Chak.
"Well," I murmured, "that was bold."
Chak's arm tightened around me.
"He's serious," he said quietly.
"You approve?"
Chak glanced toward Anamarija, then back at Vikran.
"If she smiles like that again because of him… I will."
Simple.
Protective.
Honest.
The music shifted again — slower now, almost like the night itself was winding down.
Kit rested his forehead against Taeng's, still swaying.
Non had somehow convinced Amara and Pim into attempting something that looked like a coordinated spin and almost failed spectacularly.
The air smelled like flowers and night dew.
I tilted my head up at Chak.
"Do you regret anything?" I asked softly.
"Tonight?"
"Yes."
He didn't hesitate.
"No."
His thumb traced a slow line along my waist.
"I chose you."
Those three words settled deeper than any ceremony.
Around us, the laughter quieted.
The lights glowed warmer.
And as Vikran finally gathered enough courage to walk back toward Anamarija — slower this time, more careful —
I realized something.
Tonight wasn't about defiance.
It wasn't about pretending.
It wasn't about replacing tomorrow.
It was about claiming a moment that belonged to us.
Two weddings.
One beginning.
And maybe—
a third love story just brave enough to start.
Vikran didn't rush back in this time.
He approached her carefully — like someone stepping into something fragile but important.
Anamarija was adjusting the music on her phone again when he stopped in front of her.
"Did you find a song," he asked quietly, "that talks about us?"
There was a faint smile on his lips when he said it — half teasing, half hopeful.
She looked up at him.
"For us?" she repeated.
"Yes."
He shrugged lightly. "You seem to always have the right song."
For a second, she studied him.
Then she scrolled.
The next track that started playing was different.
Faster.
A quicker tempo. Light percussion. Something playful but charged underneath.
It wasn't ceremonial.
It wasn't soft.
It was restless.
Vikran tilted his head slightly. "What's it about?"
Anamarija didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she stepped closer.
Close enough that the space between them felt intentional.
Then she said quietly:
"You have a strange feeling… and now you recognize it."
His breath caught.
"You want to tell me something," she continued, her voice steady, "but you don't know how. The words won't leave your tongue."
Vikran stared at her.
Actually stared.
Shocked.
Because she had just described the war inside his chest.
"And I know," she went on, taking another slow step closer, "that you're not sorry you met me."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"Vikran…" she said softly, almost testing his name.
"You'd like to hug me. But you're not sure if you can."
The music pulsed lightly around them, faster than the moment felt.
"You're constantly eaten by doubt. You don't know if you're doing the right thing. You don't know if you regret meeting me."
Her voice lowered.
"You don't know how to tell me any of this."
He swallowed.
The playful confidence he usually wore was gone.
Stripped.
Bare.
Her voice softened even more — almost a whisper now.
"You want to tell me you love me… but your tongue gets stuck."
The air between them shifted.
Not dramatic.
Not loud.
Just heavy.
Intentional.
She looked directly into his eyes.
Deep.
Unwavering.
"And you'd like to kiss me…" she finished quietly.
A pause.
"…but you're not allowed to."
Silence.
Even the laughter from the others seemed distant now.
Vikran's heartbeat felt loud enough to be heard.
"Is that what the song says?" he asked, his voice lower than before.
"Yes."
"Or is that what you think I'm feeling?"
A small, unreadable smile touched her lips.
"Does it matter?"
He didn't answer.
Because it did.
And it didn't.
His hand lifted slightly — almost unconsciously — like he really did want to pull her closer.
But he stopped himself.
Just like she said he would.
"You read me too well," he murmured.
Anamarija's expression softened.
"I'm not reading you," she said gently.
"I'm listening."
And for the first time that night—
Vikran didn't look like a man chasing something.
He looked like someone who had just realized he'd already fallen.