Chapter 24

Nani Hirunkit

The morning sun spills through my bedroom window, casting a warm glow over the packed bags on my floor. I stare at them for a moment, taking in the weight of this decision. Last night, after the call with Dew and Win, I canceled the dorm rental without hesitation. It wasn't worth the fight—not when they were so adamant.

And maybe, if I'm being honest, a part of me didn't really want to fight them on it.

I zip up my duffel bag, slinging it over my shoulder before grabbing my suitcase. As I step out of my room, the faint murmur of my parents' voices drifts from the kitchen. They look up when I walk in, their expressions calm, knowing.

"You're all set?" Mom asks softly.

I nod, adjusting the strap on my shoulder. "Yeah. I'll be leaving soon."

Dad leans against the counter, arms crossed. "So, they really didn't let you rent that dorm, huh?"

I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. "Nope. I never stood a chance."

Mom chuckles, unsurprised. "That sounds like them."

She steps closer, placing a gentle hand on my arm. "Take care of yourself, okay? And if things ever get too much, don't keep it all in. We're always here."

I swallow against the tightness in my throat and nod. "I know."

Dad claps a hand on my shoulder, firm but reassuring. "You'll be okay, son. Just remember—you've got people who care about you."

The words settle in my chest, lighter than I expected.

After a few more reminders to drive safely, to eat properly, to get enough sleep, I finally step outside. The crisp morning air fills my lungs as I make my way to my car.

I slide into the driver's seat, exhaling slowly before starting the engine. As I pull out of the driveway, I glance in the rearview mirror, watching my parents wave from the porch. Their figures grow smaller in the distance, but the warmth of their words lingers.

My phone buzzes beside me—probably Dew or Win sending another over-the-top message about how they're waiting, probably something dramatic about how they'll disown me if I take too long.

I shake my head, a small smile tugging at my lips as I shift gears and merge onto the road.

I'm going back.

And this time, it feels rather comforting than terrifying.

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As soon as I pull into Dew and Win's driveway, I barely get the chance to turn off the engine before the front door swings open. Win steps out first, arms crossed, face unreadable. Right behind him, Dew practically skips outside, waving both hands in the air like I'm a soldier returning from war.

I sit there for a second, gripping the steering wheel. I made it. And standing there, waiting for me, are the same two people I've known for years—loud, chaotic, solid. My chest tightens, but before I can fully process anything, Dew is already rushing to my car, eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

"Nani!" He slaps both hands against my windshield. "My beloved son! You've finally come home!"

I groan, resting my forehead against the steering wheel. "Dew, get off my car."

Win sighs as he approaches. "I told you he was gonna be insufferable."

Dew ignores him, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically. "Do you have any idea how long we've waited for this day? The sleepless nights, the worry, the pain—"

"Oh my god, stop," I mutter, finally stepping out. "First of all, don't call me your son. Second, we literally talked last night."

"Yeah, but now you're here." Win smirks. "Which means we can mess with you properly."

I shoot him a glare, but before I can say anything, Dew throws an arm around me. "We should throw a welcome-back party. Banners, cake, confetti—oh! We should put up a sign that says, 'Congrats on Being Bullied Into Living With Us!'"

I shake my head. "You guys are ridiculous."

Win ignores us both and reaches for my suitcase, lifting it out of the trunk like it weighs nothing. "Come on, let's go inside."

I follow them in, still feeling that strange mix of disbelief and warmth. It doesn't feel real yet—being here, actually doing this—but as soon as we step inside, Dew gestures dramatically toward the living room.

"We made space for you," he says proudly.

I look around. "It looks the same."

"Well, yeah," he huffs. "Because it was already perfect. But! We did clear out the spare room for you."

Win sets my suitcase down by the stairs. "And by 'we,' he means me. He just sat there giving me directions."

Dew gasps. "Excuse me, moral support is important!"

"Sure."

I chuckle, toeing off my shoes. "So where am I sleeping? The floor?"

Win gestures down the hall. "Spare room. We actually made it comfortable."

Dew nudges me. "You should be honored. He doesn't let just anyone stay in there."

I roll my eyes, but I can't ignore the warmth in my chest.

The three of us head into the kitchen, and Dew immediately starts rummaging through the fridge. "Alright, so are we cooking, or are we ordering? I vote ordering. Let's celebrate Nani's return in the laziest way possible."

Win raises a brow. "We have groceries."

"Yeah, but we also have money," Dew argues. He turns to me, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "What do you say, beloved child?"

I sigh. "You're not gonna stop calling me that, are you?"

"Not a chance."

Win shakes his head. "Just order something. If it's expensive, you're paying."

"Deal." Dew immediately pulls out his phone, scrolling through menus like this was his plan all along.

I lean against the counter, watching them bicker about which place to pick. It's loud, familiar, effortless.

For the first time in a long while, I don't feel like I'm drifting anymore.

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By the time the food arrives, Dew is practically jumping out of his skin with excitement. He rushes to the door, practically tripping over himself, grabbing the bags like he's just won the lottery. Win and I exchange a look before following him to the dining table, where he's already unloading everything with the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning.

"I got a little bit of everything," Dew announces proudly, placing various containers on the table. "Because I love you both and because deciding is hard."

Win picks up a container of pad Thai and raises an eyebrow. "You mean you got too excited and couldn't pick."

"Same thing," Dew says, unbothered, as he hands me a pair of chopsticks. "Eat, my beloved son."

I roll my eyes but take them. "You know I'm older than you, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Dew dismisses, already stuffing some mango sticky rice into his mouth. "Age is just a number when it comes to parental devotion."

Win smirks. "You're devoted until the check comes."

"And yet, here you both are, benefiting from my generosity," Dew shoots back, grinning as he opens a container of crispy spring rolls. "Besides, what's mine is yours, right babe?"

Win sighs dramatically but can't hide the amusement in his eyes as he reaches for some fried rice. "Remind me to reconsider this relationship."

"Too late, you're stuck with me," Dew chirps, unfazed.

I chuckle and grab some food, the warmth of it seeping into my fingers as the comforting scent of green curry fills the air. It's been a while since I've sat down like this—just eating, laughing, and feeling like things are normal.

Dew nudges my shoulder. "Hey, why are you so quiet? Is our company not entertaining enough?"

I raise an eyebrow. "I'm just trying to eat in peace while you two flirt."

"Flirt?" Dew gasps, turning to Win. "Do we flirt?"

Win doesn't even look up from his food. "You do."

Dew pouts dramatically, then turns back to me. "Anyway, eat more. You need to regain your strength after your long, treacherous journey home."

I shake my head, a smile tugging at my lips. "I drove here, Dew. Not hiked across mountains."

"Same thing," he mutters dismissively, shoving more food in his mouth.

The conversation flows between teasing, arguing over which dish is the best—pad Thai, green curry, crispy spring rolls, or the fried rice—and Dew somehow managing to convince Win to give him the last bite of something. It's loud, chaotic, and effortless—exactly how things are meant to be.