Phuwin's forehead pressed against the cool glass of the passenger window, his breath fogging a small circle that he wiped away with the back of his hand. The car turned down a long driveway lined with palm trees, their fronds swaying lazily in the afternoon heat, and beyond them, flowers—so many flowers. Bougainvillea in deep magenta spilled over stone walls, white orchids clustered in marble planters, and a row of frangipani trees dropped pale blossoms across the manicured lawn like scattered confetti.

The estate house rose up ahead, all white columns and dark wood beams, sprawling and elegant in a way that made Phuwin's stomach drop to somewhere around his knees.

"Breathe," Pond said softly from the driver's seat.

Phuwin didn't look at him. "I am breathing."

"You're doing that thing where you forget to inhale."

"I'm not—" Phuwin inhaled. It came out shaky. "Okay. Maybe I am."

The car rolled to a stop in front of the main entrance, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The engine idled rough for a moment before Pond killed it, and suddenly the only sound was the buzz of insects in the garden and the distant crash of waves against a shore Phuwin couldn't see but could smell—salt and sun and something green.

Pond's hand found his, warm and steady, and Phuwin finally turned to look at him.

"There's no reason to worry," Pond said, and his voice was so certain, so calm, that Phuwin almost believed him.

"What if they don't like me?" The words tumbled out before he could stop them. "I know you talk to your mother about me, but still—what if she's just being polite? What if your father takes one look at me and decides I'm not—" He gestured vaguely at himself, at his thin wrists and his soft features and the way his oversized hoodie swallowed him whole. "—this."

Pond squeezed his hand. "Then they're going to have to convince me. Or fight me. Either way, they're not stopping this wedding."

Phuwin's face flushed hot. He swatted at Pond's chest, the impact barely registering against the solid muscle there. "You can't just say things like that."

"I can. I just did."

"Pond."

"Phuwin." Pond's voice dropped, softer now. "I've been worried sick these past days. You didn't tell me you've been vomiting. You didn't tell me about the pain in your stomach. Your head." His thumb traced circles over Phuwin's knuckles. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Phuwin looked down at their joined hands, at the ring catching the sunlight through the windshield. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You're definitely having my children."

Phuwin's head snapped up. "What?"

"I bet you're already pregnant right now." Pond's grin was insufferable, all teeth and mischief. "That's why you're sick. My baby is in there."

"Pond!" Phuwin smacked him on the head, hard enough that Pond actually winced. "We are in front of your parents' house! You cannot—I am not—there is no baby!"

"Yet," Pond said, utterly unrepentant. He caught Phuwin's hand before it could land another blow and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "But I'm going to keep trying."

Phuwin's face was on fire. He yanked his hand back and shoved open the car door. "I'm getting out now."

"You're so cute when you're flustered," Pond called after him, and Phuwin was going to kill him. He was going to murder his fiancé right here on the gravel driveway of his parents' enormous estate and the bougainvillea would be the only witness.

Pond caught up to him easily, falling into step beside him, and his hand found the small of Phuwin's back—a warm, grounding pressure. "Hey."

Phuwin stopped walking. The front door loomed ahead, dark wood and brass fixtures, and beyond it, an unknown number of people who might hate him.

"Hey," Pond repeated, softer. He turned Phuwin to face him, hands settling on his shoulders. "Look at me."

Phuwin looked.

"Whatever happens in there, I'm yours. You're mine. That's not changing." Pond's thumb brushed along Phuwin's jaw. "They can like it or they can fight it, but they're not going to win."

Phuwin's throat felt tight. He nodded, not trusting his voice.

Pond smiled, that slow, warm smile that made Phuwin's heart do something stupid and fluttery in his chest. "Ready?"

Phuwin took a breath. Let it out. "Ready."

The door opened before Pond could knock. A woman stood in the doorway, her face lighting up the moment she saw them. She was elegant in a way that seemed effortless—dark hair swept back from her face, a soft silk blouse, a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes.

"Pond!"

"Mom." Pond stepped forward and let himself be pulled into her arms, and Phuwin watched something in his shoulders ease. "I missed you."

"Missed me," she repeated, pulling back to look at him, her hands still on his arms. "You could have visited. You know the door is always open." Her gaze slid past Pond to Phuwin, and her smile softened. "And you brought your beautiful wife here too."

Phuwin's face went hot. "I—I'm not—"

"He's my fiancé," Pond said, and there was something almost smug in his voice. "Phuwin."

"I know who he is, darling." His mother patted his cheek. "You've talked about little else for months." She stepped around Pond and extended her hands toward Phuwin. "It's so lovely to finally meet you properly. I'm Naree."

Phuwin took her hands, and they were warm and soft, her grip gentle. "It's nice to meet you too, khun Mae."

"Oh, none of that. Call me Mae." She squeezed his hands. "You're family now."

Phuwin's throat tightened. "Thank you."

"Pond, introduce us properly," Naree said, glancing back at her son. "You've been so rude, keeping him to yourself."

Pond rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Mom, this is Phuwin. My fiancé. The love of my life. The most beautiful person in the world."

"Okay, that's enough," Phuwin muttered, his face burning.

Naree laughed, a bright, warm sound. "He's adorable. I see why you're so gone for him."

"Mom."

"What? I'm just saying." She looped her arm through Phuwin's and started steering him inside. "Come, come. I've had the kitchen prepare refreshments. You must be tired from the drive."

Phuwin looked back at Pond, wide-eyed and helpless. Pond just grinned and followed.

The inside of the house was as impressive as the outside—high ceilings, cool marble floors, tasteful art on the walls. Phuwin tried to take it all in, but his attention kept snagging on small details: a family photo on the console table, a child's drawing stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet, a pair of tiny shoes by the door.

And then a small body came barreling down the hallway.

"Phi!"

Tyral's little legs carried him as fast as they could, a stuffed bear clutched under one arm. Pond dropped to a knee just in time to catch him, and the boy launched himself into Pond's arms, his tiny fingers gripping the fabric of Pond's shirt.

"Tyral." Pond's voice was thick. He buried his face in the boy's hair. "I missed you so much. I even brought Phuphu to play with you."

Tyral's head snapped up. "P'Phuwin?"

He wiggled out of Pond's arms and ran, his feet slapping against the marble, and Phuwin had just enough time to brace himself before Tyral hit him at full speed, small arms wrapping around his waist.

"Phuphu's here!" Tyral shouted. "Mommy look! Phuphu's here!"

Phuwin laughed, the sound startled out of him. He crouched down to Tyral's level, and the boy immediately cupped his face with both hands, staring at him with intense concentration.

"Mommy, look," Tyral said, tugging at Naree's hand. "This is my Phuphu."

Naree smiled down at them. "I see. You want to hug Phuphu?"

Tyral nodded solemnly.

"Go on, then."

Tyral turned back to Phuwin and hugged him again, fierce and tight, and then he pulled back, took Phuwin's chin in his tiny hand, and smiled wide.

"My tooth came out," he announced, pointing at the gap in his gums. The words came out with a slight lisp, careful and deliberate, like he'd been practicing.

Phuwin's heart melted. "It did! That's so exciting, Tyral. Are you going to put it under your pillow for the tooth fairy?"

Tyral nodded, bouncing on his heels. "I want money. To buy a car."

"A car?" Phuwin laughed. "What kind of car?"

"A red one." Tyral beamed. "Like Phi's."

Behind them, Pond made a strangled sound. "Tyral."

Tyral turned in Phuwin's arms and stuck his tongue out at Pond, then turned back and kissed Phuwin's cheek, loud and smacking.

"Tyral!"

Tyral kissed him again, giggling, and Phuwin couldn't help it—he laughed, bright and real, and pressed a kiss to Tyral's forehead in return.

"Okay, okay," Naree said, her voice warm with amusement. "Let Phuphu breathe, Tyral. He just got here."

"But I want to play," Tyral protested.

"You can play later. Let the adults talk first." Naree lifted him easily, settling him on her hip. "Go find your toys, and I'll bring Phuphu to you soon."

Tyral pouted, but he let his mother carry him away, waving at Phuwin over her shoulder. "Bye, Phuphu!"

Phuwin waved back, still smiling.

Pond appeared at his side, his hand finding the small of Phuwin's back again. "He likes you."

"He's adorable."

"He's a menace." But Pond was smiling too, soft and fond. "He's been talking about you nonstop since the beach house."

Phuwin looked up at him. "Really?"

"Really. You're his favorite person."

Something warm and fragile bloomed in Phuwin's chest. He leaned into Pond's side, just slightly, and Pond's arm came around him, steady and sure.

"Come on," Pond said. "Let's go sit down before my mom comes back and interrogates you about our wedding plans."

"She seems nice."

"She is. She's been asking about you for months." Pond led him into a sitting room, all soft couches and afternoon light. "My father, on the other hand—"

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

They sat on the couch, close together, and Naree joined them a few minutes later, Tyral settled in a playpen across the room with a pile of toys. She sat across from them, folding her hands in her lap.

"So," she said, and her smile was warm but her eyes were sharp. "Tell me about the wedding."

Phuwin's throat went dry. "We're—it's in two and a half weeks. We haven't planned much yet, honestly. We've been—" He glanced at Pond, searching for help.

"Busy," Pond supplied. "We've been busy."

"Busy," Naree repeated, and there was a knowing glint in her eye. "I'm sure."

Phuwin's face went red.

"We're looking at venues," Pond said smoothly. "And we're talking about where we're going to live. Phuwin has the bakery with his aunt, so we're thinking—"

"The bakery." Naree's eyebrows rose. "You mentioned that. It's in the city?"

"Yes," Phuwin said. "Godji—my aunt—she owns it. I help her run it. It's... it's home."

Naree nodded slowly. "And you'd want to stay there?"

"We're thinking about getting a place nearby," Pond said. "Close enough that Phuwin can walk to work, but with enough space for—" He stopped, and Phuwin saw his ears go pink. "For the future."

Naree's smile widened. "The future."

"Mom."

"I'm just saying, that's lovely." She reached over and patted Phuwin's knee. "You've made him happy. Happier than I've seen him in years."

Phuwin's throat tightened. "He makes me happy too."

Naree's eyes softened. "I know, sweetheart. I can see it."

The front door slammed.

Pond went rigid beside him, his hand clenching on Phuwin's thigh. Phuwin looked toward the hallway, heart suddenly pounding, and heard heavy footsteps approaching.

A man appeared in the doorway. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with Pond's jaw and Pond's dark eyes and none of Pond's warmth. His hair was streaked with gray at the temples, and his mouth was set in a hard line.

Pond's father.

"Mom." Pond's voice was flat. "What the fuck? Why is he home? He doesn't have to be here right now."

The man's eyes narrowed. "Shut the fuck up. This is my house. I pay for you to live here. You're lucky you're even allowed to come here."

Pond's jaw tightened. He took a breath, slow and deliberate, and Phuwin could feel the tension coiled through his body.

Then the man's gaze shifted to Phuwin.

Something flickered in his eyes. His mouth curved into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Who have you brought to my home, son?"

Pond's hand found Phuwin's, and Phuwin felt the ring press against his palm. He sat up straighter, lifting their joined hands, the diamond catching the light.

"This is my fiancé."

The man's smile widened. He stepped closer, and Phuwin's heart hammered in his chest, but he forced himself to meet the man's gaze. Up close, he could see the lines around his eyes, the gray threading through his hair, the way his shoulders filled the doorway like he was used to taking up space.

"This is my home," the man said, and his voice was warmer now, almost genial. "Welcome. You look very beautiful. I can tell Pond is really lucky to have you."

Phuwin blinked. "I—thank you." He ducked his head, face flushing. "It's nothing, really. Pond insisted on us coming here."

"He's persistent," the man said, and there was something almost approving in his tone. "He gets that from me."

Pond made a sound like a suppressed snarl.

His father ignored him. "It's alright. Settle in well. Make yourself at home." He clapped Phuwin on the shoulder, and Phuwin's whole body went stiff. "I'm sure we'll talk more later."

He turned and walked toward the stairs, and Phuwin watched him go, his heart still pounding.

Pond stood abruptly. "You better not do some fucking bullshit, Dad."

His father paused on the stairs but didn't turn around. "I said welcome, didn't I?" He continued up, his footsteps heavy on the wood, and then he was gone.

Phuwin let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

He looked at Naree, who was watching him with an apologetic smile.

"He's... not always easy," she said softly. "But he's trying. In his own way."

Phuwin smiled back, even though it felt shaky. "It's okay. I understand."

He didn't, really. But it felt like the right thing to say.

Pond sank back down beside him, his hand finding Phuwin's again. His palm was damp.

"You okay?" Phuwin asked quietly.

Pond's jaw was tight. "I'm fine."

Phuwin squeezed his hand. "You're a terrible liar."

Pond's mouth twitched. "Yeah." He let out a breath, and some of the tension bled out of his shoulders. "I just—he doesn't get to do that. Act like everything's fine when he's the reason—" He stopped. Shook his head. "Never mind."

Naree rose gracefully. "I'll check on lunch. You two should rest—you've had a long drive." She paused by Phuwin, her hand gentle on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here, sweetheart. Truly."

She left, and the room felt smaller without her.

Phuwin turned to Pond. "Hey."

Pond looked at him, and for a moment, he looked so young, so tired. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you about him."

"You did." Phuwin reached up and touched his face. "You told me he was hard to deal with."

"I didn't tell you he was—" Pond stopped. Swallowed. "He's the reason I know how not to be. Every time I look at him, I see what I could become, and I—"

"You're not him." Phuwin's voice was fierce. "You're not."

Pond's eyes searched his face. "How do you know?"

"Because you're here." Phuwin cupped his jaw. "Because you held me when I cried. Because you learned how to draw a whale for a little girl you'd never met. Because you love Tyral like he's your own, and you love me like I'm—" His voice cracked. "Like I'm everything."

Pond's breath shuddered out of him. "You are."

"And you're not him." Phuwin leaned in and pressed his forehead to Pond's. "You're never going to be him."

Pond's hands came up to grip his waist, pulling him closer. "I love you."

"I love you too."

They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing together, and Phuwin felt the tension slowly drain from Pond's body.

"Okay," Pond said finally, his voice steadier. "Okay." He pulled back, and there was a hint of a smile on his face. "Come on. Let me show you my room."

Phuwin raised an eyebrow. "Your room?"

"It has a balcony with a view of the sea." Pond's smile widened. "I thought you might want to see it."

Phuwin let himself be pulled to his feet. "Fine. But only because I want to see the sea."

"Sure." Pond's hand found his, lacing their fingers together. "That's the only reason."

Pond's bedroom was at the end of a long hallway, a room that felt strangely impersonal—white walls, a neatly made bed, a desk with a laptop that looked untouched. Many young baby photos But the balcony doors were open, and beyond them, the sea stretched out, endless and blue, the afternoon sun glittering across the waves.

Phuwin walked to the railing and leaned against it, letting the salt wind pull at his hair. He could hear the waves, steady and rhythmic, and for a moment, the weight in his chest eased.

Pond's arms wrapped around his waist from behind, warm and solid, and Phuwin smiled.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Loving you."

Phuwin's heart stuttered. He leaned back into Pond's chest, letting himself be held. "Pond."

"Yes, babe?"

Phuwin turned in his arms, facing him. The sea was behind him, endless and bright, but all he could see was Pond's face—the worry lines around his eyes, the soft curve of his mouth, the way he looked at Phuwin like he was something precious.

"I want you to always know this," Phuwin said, and his voice came out steadier than he felt. "There's always time. I love you, okay?"

Pond's brow furrowed. "Everything's fine. I love you too."

"Always?"

"Always."

Phuwin kissed him.

It was soft at first—a question, a promise. His hands found Pond's shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt, and he smiled against Pond's lips when Pond made a small, surprised sound.

"What was that for?" Pond murmured.

Phuwin kissed him again, harder this time, and felt Pond's arms tighten around him. "For being you," he said against Pond's mouth. "For choosing me."

Pond's breath hitched. "I'd choose you a thousand times."

Phuwin kissed him again, and again, and the sea kept crashing against the shore below, steady and endless, like a promise that had no end.