Chapter 9 A Marriage Of Obligation

• Chapter 9 A Marriage of Obligation
• Ladapha glanced at the little boy again.
• “What about his mom? Why doesn’t she come instead?”
• “I don’t know. Ever since this kid started school, it’s always been his dad who comes to pick him up. And honestly, he doesn’t seem like a problem child or anything.”
• Ladapha nodded before walking back to the boy.
• “Do you want to play catch?” she asked gently.
• The boy looked up at her with a suspicious expression. “Auntie wants to play?”
• Ladapha forced a sweet smile, though her teeth clenched slightly.
• “Call me big sister, alright?”
• “No.”
• Even though his words irked her, she maintained her smile, suppressing her irritation.
• I’m not that old! she thought indignantly.
• “Fine, let’s just play.”
• She grabbed the ball and tossed it toward him. The boy hesitated, his expression unenthusiastic, but as he caught the ball and tossed it back, his previously sulky face began to brighten with a small smile.
• It was hard to tell how much time passed as Ladapha played with him, throwing and catching the ball until the sun began to set. Exhausted from running around, she took a deep breath and waved her hand to fan herself.
• “I’m going to wash my face real quick,” she told Kanika, glancing at the boy who continued playing by himself, seemingly unbothered by her absence.
• After Kanika nodded, Ladapha headed inside to freshen up.
• When she returned, she saw the boy walking hand-in-hand with a man, leaving the school.
• “Did the boy leave already?” Ladapha asked immediately.
• Kanika nodded before saying, “Wait here for a moment. I need to grab something.”
• Ladapha nodded back and found a seat at one of the marble tables to wait. Shortly after, Kanika returned with her belongings and tapped her on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”
• As they exited the school and hailed a taxi, the commute to their destination took nearly an hour. By the time they arrived at the restaurant and found a table, hunger had thoroughly taken over Ladapha’s thoughts.
• Once the fresh pork slices were served, Ladapha stopped talking mid-sentence and immediately began grilling. She filled the pan to the brim and waited for it to cook before lifting her gaze to continue the conversation.
• “By the way, did you know my sister is getting married soon?”
• “What?!” Kanika exclaimed, nearly dropping her chopsticks. “To Art?”
• Ladapha shook her head with a sigh. “Nope. They broke up.”
• Kanika furrowed her brow, confused.
• “Rak broke up with Art. I don’t even know the guy she’s marrying now,” Ladapha explained, her expression clouded with worry. She hoped everything would work out for her sister, but it was hard not to feel uneasy about such a rushed decision. The invitations had already been sent, and the dress tailored—there was no turning back now. Everything had happened so quickly, in less than a month.
• “Do you think two people can fall in love after they get married?”
• Kanika smirked, laughing softly. “Chom, love is complicated. Who knows what the future holds?”
• Ladapha gave her a weak smile, clearly skeptical.
• “Not me. I don’t really care about love.”
• “Well, maybe you should,” Kanika teased.
• “Nope. I’m not interested in the drama that comes with it.”
• Kanika shook her head. Having known Ladapha for over ten years, she was all too familiar with her friend’s guarded attitude. Despite many suitors over the years, Ladapha always kept her walls up, convinced love would only end in heartbreak.
• “You’re impossible,” Kanika said with an exasperated sigh.
• “Let’s change the subject,” Ladapha replied, focusing on her meal. “I don’t need love. Now I’m perfectly happy as I am.”
• Time seemed to slip by at an alarming pace, bringing Sarunphat closer to a moment he had desperately hoped to avoid. Sitting motionless in his room, he stared blankly at his groom’s suit, refusing to change even though the wedding was set to begin in less than an hour. He couldn’t fathom how the thing he dreaded most had unfolded so swiftly and effortlessly. If only he hadn’t approached her that fateful night, none of this would have happened.
• “Phee! Are you still not dressed?” Laphatsrada’s voice pierced the tense atmosphere as she stormed into the room. “The ceremony is starting soon. Why haven’t you changed yet?”
• Sarunphat glanced at his mother briefly before averting his eyes, a gesture that spoke volumes about his unwillingness to go through with this union.
• “Get dressed now. The guests will start arriving soon,” she ordered firmly.
• Laphatsrada’s voice carried an air of resignation despite her attempt to sound composed. She understood her son’s reluctance but firmly believed that this arrangement was for the best. If things didn’t work out, she thought, there would always be a way to resolve it later.
• “I’ll be down soon,” Sarunphat replied weakly, his voice barely audible. His spirit was at its lowest ebb. Marrying someone he didn’t love was one thing, but marrying someone he’d only met once—under questionable circumstances—was another matter entirely. He suspected that his mother had long known about his internal struggles but had chosen to remain silent. This wedding, however, felt like punishment from the heavens, forcing him into a life he hadn’t chosen.
• For a fleeting moment, Sarunphat considered fleeing, leaving behind his family, wealth, and inheritance. But he knew too well that doing so would strip him of everything, leaving him with nothing but his name.
• Watching her son’s conflicted demeanor, Laphatsrada let out a sigh. If only her beloved son had shown interest in women, even casually, she wouldn’t have had to resort to such measures. Still, she thought to herself, *better a daughter-in-law than a son-in-law.*
• “I’ll wait downstairs. Don’t make me come back up here,”
• She said before exiting the room.
• Instead of heading straight to the venue, Laphatsrada made her way to another room where Tharatchanan was preparing. Though she harbored reservations about her future daughter-in-law’s older age, she conceded that the woman’s personality and work ethic were commendable. What the future held for this couple, however, was anyone’s guess.
• Tharatchanan sat stiffly in front of a mirror as the makeup artist and stylist packed up their tools. The air was heavy with tension as Laphatsrada entered the room.
• “Are you ready?” she asked, her gaze appraising Tharatchanan from head to toe.
• “Yes, I am,” Tharatchanan replied hesitantly, her voice betraying her nerves. She rose from the chair, fidgeting slightly under Laphatsrada’s sharp gaze.
• “From now on, call me ‘Mother.’ We wouldn’t want others thinking I’m mistreating my daughter-in-law,” Laphatsrada said with a measured smile.
• “Yes, Mother,” Tharatchanan replied, stumbling over the words as she lowered her eyes. The formality and grandeur of this arrangement only added to her unease. She had agreed to this marriage not out of love but as a desperate attempt to avoid spinsterhood.
• “Good. Now head downstairs. The guests will start arriving soon,” Laphatsrada said before leaving.
• Alone in the room, Tharatchanan turned to her reflection. Her heart was heavy with uncertainty as she whispered to herself, “There’s no turning back now. Marry first, and if it doesn’t work, divorce later. There’s nothing left to lose.”
• Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she walked out of the room, determined to face whatever lay ahead.