THEWEDDINGPLAN, Chapter 6:
Don’t carelessly call someone a friend, because some people don’t want to be just friends.
The sleek sports car had been parked in the garage for a while, yet its young owner remained seated, lost in thought, drifting far in the darkness and silence, alone. And what Sailom was thinking about was, unsurprisingly, another man.
Someone he’d been drawn to from the first meeting, certain the feeling was mutual. It should’ve been easy to build something, but it wasn’t. The cruel irony? He was about to be a groom, and the other man was planning his wedding.
What a bitter joke.
“Sigh, Lom, how could you slip up like that?” The young man let out a long breath, closing his eyes, recalling the warm sensation lingering on his lips. Honestly, he… wanted to do more.
The groom-to-be knew full well that now wasn’t the time, that it was wrong to follow his desires. But he couldn’t help it. That pale face, soft cheeks, and vibrant lips—so striking against fair skin, glowing under dim lights—drew him in, urging him to lean down and touch, craving even more.
“What a mess.”
The young man had tried so hard to restrain himself from the start. Even if he teased, flirted, or provoked Namnuea just to see that frustrated look on his face, he made sure not to cross the line. He didn’t want the other man to think even worse of him. A man about to get married, yet flirting with another man—no matter how you looked at it, the words “scum” and “jerk” were practically plastered across his forehead.
If it was just playful, it might’ve been fine. But with that young organizer, who made it clear that no matter how much he stole glances, he’d never cross ethical boundaries, Sailom wasn’t annoyed at all. On the contrary, it made him want to push forward even more.
If Namnuea had easily played along, knowing Sailom was about to get married, how could he trust that the man wouldn’t do the same with others later? But that very phrase—”about to get married”—had become an iron wall, trapping him in place.
Cancel the wedding? Yiwa would probably kill him.
As for revealing the truth behind the marriage, he didn’t know Namnuea well enough yet. If that secret got out, everything they’d planned would collapse in ruins.
If this event fell apart, Yiwa would likely slit his throat and flush him down the toilet with the most brutal efficiency, leaving no trace of the angelic, heavenly image others saw in her.
“Sigh, you and I really met at the worst possible time,” Sailom let out a long breath before reluctantly getting out of the car, wondering what he should do next.
For now, he’d let it go, but he had no intention of stopping at just one kiss either.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought of ways to see Namnuea outside of work hours.
Not liking to discuss important matters over the phone?
Hardly. I just want to meet face-to-face to build a connection.
“Looking awfully cheerful, aren’t you, Sailom?”
Whoosh
“Mom, you’re still up?” Before the young man could head to his room, a voice called out from the living room, making him turn to look. His smile vanished the moment he saw who was still awake, clearly waiting to ambush him.
“If I’d gone to bed, I wouldn’t have noticed my dear son sneaking out again.”
“I didn’t sneak out,” Sailom shot back quickly, walking over to his mother, who was squinting at him suspiciously. Not only that, she leaned in, sniffing as if searching for some unpleasant odor. But all he probably smelled of was the smoke from the barbecue restaurant, so she wrinkled her nose.
“Where have you been?”
“I went to the gym, then grabbed dinner with a friend. That’s why I smell like smoke, that’s all,” he explained. The person who’d been trying to control his life forever only grew sterner.
“Girl or guy?”
“Guy.”
“Alright then,” his mother relented slightly before launching into the topic he dreaded most.
“Lom, I’m not trying to catch you doing something wrong, but I just want to remind you that you’re about to get married. Back when you and Yiwa were just dating, I could turn a blind eye to your gallivanting, but now? Your wedding’s coming up soon. You should be spending more time with her. There’s so much to discuss as the date gets closer, but you two barely even see each other!”
“Yiwa and I see each other so much we’re sick of it. Not meeting for a week or two isn’t a big deal…”
Slap
“Don’t say you’re sick of her, Lom! You’re not even married yet, and you’re already saying that. How would she feel if she heard you?”
She’d probably giggle and say she’s more than sick of me
Sailom thought to himself but let his mother ramble on, too tired to argue. Only when she seemed satisfied did the young man step forward, loosely draping an arm around her shoulders with a confident smile.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ve told you before, I’m only getting married once in this lifetime—to Yiwa, my first love, my only love, my greatest love. I promise no other woman will ever make you worry on behalf of your daughter-in-law.” She gave him a playful glare but seemed in better spirits.
“You better mean what you say.”
“I do. I swear I won’t mess with any other women.”
At that, she smiled, pride evident in her voice. “Good, son. That’s good.” That smile forced her son, who’d been hiding a certain secret all along, to look away. He leaned down, kissed her cheek, and said quickly, “I’m off to bed then. I’m exhausted today. Goodnight, Mom.” With that, he pulled away, hurrying upstairs, not lingering to hear the voice still calling after him. “And try not to stay out so late, Lom! Yiwa might think you’re messing around with someone else.” She doesn’t care, Mom.
Sailom thought, shaking his head wearily. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he recalled the conversation he’d left unfinished.
“I’ll get married for you just this once, but I never said I’d stay with my bride forever,” he said with a faint smile. Then he tossed his things onto the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, his deep voice carrying a mix of amusement and exasperation.
“Honestly, that future daughter-in-law of yours is the real mastermind.” Though it started with Yiwa, he was the one carrying it forward, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty. But Sailom was done with the walls trapping him, preventing him from going wherever his heart desired. So he’d see this act through to the end, and this job had to end perfectly.
…
“What’s up with Nuea today?”
“No idea, sis. He showed up, sat down, and started sighing like crazy. But his mouth? Doesn’t stop. Impressive, right? Sighing and stuffing his face at the same time.”
At that moment, Namnuea was slumped in the office, utterly listless. Yet his hands never stopped—one clutching potato chips, the other a giant Coke, munching away relentlessly. Because if his mouth wasn’t busy… it’d wander back to when it was doing something other than eating.
Crunch.
“You trying to turn into a bowling ball or what?”
“Hm, Sis Eim, when’d you get here?” Namnuea glanced at the snack thief, his voice dragging like he had no will to do anything. The listener shook her head vigorously, smacking his head with the chip bag. It didn’t hurt, but…
“Sis! They’re all crushed now! Crushed chips are harder to eat, you know!”
“Then stop eating. All you do is stuff your face. This is a workplace, not a pigsty.”
“Harsh!”
The guy accused of being a pig pouted and flopped onto the desk instead. The newcomer grew concerned, sliding over to sit beside him and returning his snacks. “What’s wrong with you, Nuea?”
“A pig, apparently. Forgot already? Keep it up, and I’ll smack you with the chip bag.”
“Didn’t you just do that?” Namnuea retorted, chuckling at the woman ready to morph into an ogre, her face stern, brows furrowed with crow’s feet, and eyes narrowed. But maybe because they’d known each other too long, Sis Eim read him like a book. “No joking to cover it up. This isn’t a café. What’s going on?”
“Nothing…”
“Nuea, you don’t eat like this unless you’re stressed. Eating and working like this means it’s bad. Plus, the kids said you brought enough snacks to stock the kitchen. How many kilos are you planning to gain so I can sell off your extra fat for cheap?” Sis Eim came at him full force, making the guy whose stress-eating habit only worsened sigh deeply. He finally set the snacks down but still didn’t lift his head from the desk.
“Really, nothing’s wrong, Sis Eim. Just let me be,” he pleaded.
“Then get to work so I don’t have to keep prodding you.” Guess she’s worried her husband’s business will take a hit if his employee’s like this.
Namnuea spoke sarcastically, but only in a soft tone. “I’m waiting for a client’s call… I’m not slacking off, don’t worry, Sis,” he said. The woman observed him for a moment, then shook her head in defeat. Before leaving, she lightly patted his shoulder.
“If you say you’re fine, then you’re fine. But if you’re not, you’ve got me, okay?” The listener turned to look, catching a concerned smile that made him hesitate inexplicably. But he didn’t dare share, knowing his problem wasn’t something easily told.
If he admitted to falling for a groom-to-be, he’d only get scolded. Plus, this was… a client.
Snap.
“What’s up, Nuea?” But the man who swore he’d never speak froze when, without thinking, he grabbed his coworker’s wrist.
Sis Eim turned to meet his eyes.
“I…”
“What’s with you?” Namnuea hesitated briefly, but perhaps because the issue was weighing so heavily on him, he asked softly, “Is it wrong, Sis, to… to secretly like someone who’s taken?”
“It’s not wrong,” Sis Eim replied instantly, almost making him smile—until she continued just as quickly. “But it’s not right either. Liking someone secretly isn’t wrong, as long as you don’t become the third wheel. But it’s not right to risk your heart on something you know is impossible. I believe in karma. Even if you dive in and steal them, and even if you succeed, do you think there won’t be consequences? You hurt their partner, and eventually, you’ll get hurt too.” Her words came in a rush, leaving the listener pale.
Sis Eim must’ve noticed, as she softened her tone. “Don’t put your heart at risk, Nuea. It’s not worth it.” Exactly.
Namnuea already knew he shouldn’t be anyone’s third wheel, but he still wanted to ask, to be sure his decision was right. Yet deep down, a part of him wondered… if Khun Lom wasn’t married yet, would two months from now mean he’s still single?
But his colleague’s words snapped him back.
Now or later, Khun Lom is getting married. If he played along, who’d end up hurt? None other than Nuea himself. “By the way, who do you like?” Gasp!
Oh no, who would’ve thought she’d turn the tables and ask back?
“I don’t know him,” Namnuea could only mumble softly, prompting a sweet smile from Sister Eim.
“Good! If I don’t know him, that means he’s not a client. Having a crush on someone who’s taken is wrong, but having a crush on someone who’s about to get married? That’s a sin, Nuea. Don’t even think about it. No matter which groom it is, don’t you dare. I’ll allow you to look, but nothing more than that, got it?” Namnuea was sweating buckets, feeling hot and cold, goosebumps all over, forcing a laugh to brush it off as a joke.
“Crazy, Sis! How many grooms about to get married would turn out to be gay?”
“Don’t underestimate a marriage of convenience,” she warned. “I’ve seen it plenty. The latest was with my close friend, no less. The groom was just putting up a front. When the bride pressured him too much, he gave in and agreed to marry. Only later did
she find out he already had a lover. And get this, Nuea, that lover even showed up at the wedding! Ugh, they’re in the middle of a divorce now.”
A marriage of convenience… really?
Suddenly, Namnuea was struck by the phrase. He glanced at his senior, still ranting about her friend’s man, then looked away, angry at himself.
Angry for feeling a flicker of hope at the idea of a sham marriage. But in a fleeting moment, the words of the man about to wed echoed painfully in his mind.
Khun Lom had said he was willingly marrying Khun Yiwa.
This wasn’t a marriage of convenience. “Ugh, whatever, Sis. I’m off to work. And give me back my snacks—I spent a fortune on them,” Namnuea deflected, not wanting his true feelings exposed, before firmly telling himself:
He wouldn’t let it go any further. Once the wedding was over, there’d be no reason for their paths to cross again. He just had to get through it, and that was it.
…
“Lom, what’s the meaning of this?!”
“What’s going on here, Mom… Hello, Auntie.”
The moment Sailom stepped into the house, his mother’s furious voice rang out, making him turn in surprise. He almost sighed when he saw who was sitting beside her—none other than his future mother-in-law.
With everyone gathered like this, it was bound to be a headache. “Lom, are you really not increasing the guest list?” There it was. The first sentence, and he was already tempted to shake his head.
“Yes, Yiwa and I have discussed it,” he replied. The other party’s face clearly showed displeasure, likely because they couldn’t persuade their daughter and had teamed up with his mother instead.
“How can you decide without consulting your parents?” his mother interjected. He responded calmly:
“I’ve talked to Dad, and he’s already agreed.”
“How could he agree? His guests alone number in the hundreds. We can’t just not invite them—they’re all important people.” Sailom barely held back a sigh, maintaining his usual poker face, even though this issue had been discussed multiple times. Both his mother and Yiwa’s mother wanted a grand wedding, but he and Yiwa didn’t.
A wedding is about inviting people to celebrate, but if they don’t want a celebration, why call so many people?
“Then I’ll wait for Fon’s wedding instead.”
“Lom!”
“Mother, no matter how many times you call me, I’ll stick to what I said: I’ll limit the number of guests. That’s it. I’ve already discussed this with Yiwa. At first, we wanted a small wedding, but you wouldn’t agree. I’ve compromised until the event has grown this big, so what more do you want?” the young man asked in a serious tone, but his mother still looked displeased.
“And you, Aunt, Yiwa has probably already told you that we won’t make the event any bigger. No matter how much you try to persuade me or Yiwa, it’s the same—we don’t want a big wedding,” he said, turning to another person. That person seemed about to argue, but before they could, his mother interjected, “Can’t you do this one thing for me?”
It was the same phrase he’d heard so many times, but it felt like the final straw. Sailom turned sharply and said just one sentence:
“Marrying at all should already be more than enough for you.”
“Sailom!”
Even though his mother called out loudly, the young man was done listening. He spun around, walked out of the house, and, unable to suppress his anger, lashed out, making the other party lose face even more. He was fed up, having endured enough of doing everything his mother wanted.
So, he decided to follow his own heart for once.
Sailom grabbed his phone and called the person he desperately wanted to see.
“Khun Nuea? Can you meet me? I’m begging you.”
He knew he shouldn’t do this, but his emotions were overwhelming, and Nuea was the reason for them all.
Even though Namnuea had firmly stated they wouldn’t meet outside of work matters, the tense tone of the groom-to-be made him worry. Despite trying to stay resolute and refuse, hearing the plea made it impossible to resist.
[I’m begging you, please meet me. I don’t know what to do anymore.]
“But I have work.”
[That’s fine. I’ll wait until you can come. Please meet me.]
Even though he was worried it might be some kind of trick, Namnuea couldn’t help but be concerned. The plea to wait and the location—a hotel bar—made him wonder what could be wrong for someone to drink alone like that. So instead of turning the car back to his condominium, the young man drove straight to the hotel.
“Just check that everything’s okay and leave… that’s all, Nuea,” he told himself firmly every time, only to fail miserably every time.
Nuea let out a heavy sigh, frustrated with his own habits. But once he arrived, he stepped into the bar, scanning the room for the person who had caught his eye from the first moment. It didn’t take long to spot the cause of his visit, sitting quietly and drinking in the innermost corner.
“Have you been here long, Khun Lom?”
“Khun Nuea.”
He looked like he’d been drinking for a while.
The sharp, handsome face that looked up was flushed redder than usual, the sweet eyes different from any other time, the deep voice slightly slurred, and the wide smile—rarely seen otherwise—all told Namnuea that the other man was in high spirits. And then there were the words…
“I’m so glad you came,” the tone unmistakably joyful, unlike the usual unreadable demeanor.
“You begged me so much, how could I not? Is something wrong?” the young organizer replied cautiously, steering the conversation to why he’d come all this way. It seemed to dim the smile; those sharp eyes turned back to the glass of liquor, staring at it as if lost in thought.
He really does seem to have a problem.
With that thought, Nuea ordered a drink for himself, as if giving the other man time to think quietly. Even though he didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to get any closer, now that he was here, he wasn’t heartless enough to leave someone struggling alone. Until…
“What do you think about a guy my age still fighting with his mom?”
“You had a fight with your family?” the listener asked, surprised. This man seemed too proud to share personal problems with anyone. But it was as if he genuinely wanted an answer; those sharp eyes locked onto him, unwavering. “If you’re asking what I think… it’s not strange at all. Everyone has their own problems. Even me—still arguing with my family to this day because I insisted on coming to Bangkok, when they want me to go back and work at home.” He wasn’t sure why he shared his own story, but seeing Sailom’s expression brighten made it feel worthwhile.
“I fought with my mom about a wedding. Hah, pretty pathetic, right? My mouth says I can handle everything, but in reality, I can’t even settle things with them.”
Why did it feel so good that the other man trusted him enough to share his troubles? Did it mean… he was trusted? “What’s the matter? Is there anything I can help with…?”
“Are you helping as an event organizer or in some other capacity?”
Gulp
Namnuea knows not to take a madman seriously, nor to argue with a drunk, but with the other party probing like this, he’s starting to get angry.
“Can I help in some other capacity too?” There’s no role beyond that.
“And you, what did you call me out here for? Wouldn’t it be better to discuss these things with your friends? Why bring it up with just an event organizer like me?” Namnuea retorts, his tone clouded. Sailom gives a faint smile and counters, “Who else could I discuss this with? Besides, you must deal with this kind of thing often… Don’t you have any advice for me?”
So, you called me here as an event organizer after all. What are you hoping for, Nuea?
When he hears the phone ring, he’s both anxious and worried. But one thing he tries to deny, though he can’t, is that Namnuea is hoping. Deep down, he secretly feels good about being called when the other is in trouble because it makes him feel… special.
So special that he accidentally hopes for things he shouldn’t.
Didn’t you say you wouldn’t get involved with him? But when he talks like this, it hurts, doesn’t it, Nuea? You’re pathetic. “That’s why I said you need to sort this out with your family first. Marriage… it’s not just about two people. No matter how much you… love each other, a wedding means marrying both families too.” Namnuea holds his breath slightly before saying the word “love,” because… it hurts.
So, you’re really in love with someone who’s taken, huh?
Repeating it to himself, Namnuea lowers his head, missing the gaze directed at him… a gaze that speaks of how much it longs to touch.
“You asked me what I called you here for, right?” Suddenly, the drunk changes the subject, so he shakes his head.
“I don’t want to know anymore.” Knowing would only hurt his heart.
“But I want to tell you.”
That makes Namnuea turn back to meet his eyes, and his little heart trembles because he sees something he shouldn’t… tenderness.
A deep, meaningful look that shouldn’t be directed at him, not to mention the large hand reaching to touch his cheek. But because he turns away, it slides to lightly brush the back of his hand instead. Then Sailom speaks with a serious tone.
“As a friend, is that okay?”
Gulp
“Can you and I be friends?”
Namnuea was angry, but he was angry at himself… angry that disappointment was crashing over him, even though he should be glad the relationship wouldn’t go any further. But just hearing that the man who looked at him with such deep eyes only saw him as a friend… it hurt so much he could barely force a smile.
Friends, huh?
“Hmm… not as a client, but can you see me as your friend?” Namnuea knew his smile must look strained, but he still forced himself to ask.
“You see me as a friend, right?”
“Yeah. Can I thank you as a friend?”
So, the affection he’d felt from him before… it was just as a friend, was it?
Namnuea was only now realizing how much the word “friend” could hurt.
Good job, Namnuea. This means you haven’t wronged Khun Yiwa. You’re just friends… just friends.
That thought should’ve made him feel better, but in truth, Namnuea felt inexplicably awful. He didn’t feel any less guilty—not toward Khun Yiwa, but toward himself. He couldn’t move forward the way his heart wanted.
For the first time, he truly hated the word “friend” with all his heart.
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