Chapter 5 It All Started with Excitement I

"Why... why...?" Tharatchanan sobbed, her words broken and barely coherent.

"Did Art break up with you?" Ladapha asked softly, her voice tinged with worry. She gazed at her sister with concern, then rose from the sofa and moved closer.

Tharatchanan didn't answer immediately. She cried harder, her attempts to speak swallowed by her sobs. After a few moments, she managed to choke out, "He cheated... That bastard... he cheated" ...

Ladapha stepped forward and pulled her elder sister into a tight hug, holding her close without asking any more questions. She gently rubbed Tharatchanan's back, her voice calm and soothing. "If you need to cry, let it all out. Just for today, cry as much as you need to."

She didn't want to push her sister further, knowing how deeply Tharatchanan had cared for Art. Her sister had been so serious about him-serious enough to talk about marriage and building a future together. But maybe it was better this way. At least she knew the truth before walking down the aisle with someone who didn't deserve her.

"I... I loved him. I still love him," Tharatchanan whispered through her tears, her voice trembling with pain.

Ladapha stayed quiet. She didn't know what to say, having never been in a relationship herself, she couldn't fully understand the depth of her elder sister's heartbreak.

"He's been lie... on me... for an entire..."

Anger flickered across Ladapha's face. For five years, she had seen her sister devoted to him, never once straying or entertaining the advances of other men, even when loneliness crept in during his absences. And now this?

"Do you remember what Mom always said?" Ladapha asked, her voice steady. "A man who truly loves you will never cheat. Not once."

Those words hit Tharatchanan hard. She had heard them countless times growing up, and yet now they felt like a painful truth she couldn't escape. Her chest tightened, the pain pressing down on her until it felt impossible to breathe.

She nodded faintly, acknowledging her elder sister's words. Deep down, she knew they were true. A man like him wasn't fit to be the father of her children; let alone someone she could trust her life with.

Ladapha held her elder sister a little tighter, silently vowing to help her get through this pain, no matter how long it took.

"Hum," Tharatchanan murmured, glancing at the pile of things she had dragged down earlier. Once, these items had meant everything to her, but now they were nothing more than trash waiting to be discarded. The fond memories of the past five years were fading fast, all thanks to one man's betrayal. She knew it wouldn't be easy to forget, but she also knew she had to.

The weekend came and went, and Tharatchanan hadn't left her bedroom even once. She barely touched the little food Ladapha had brought her, and despite her internal monologue telling her to move on, to not waste more time grieving, she simply couldn't muster the strength.

**Knock, knock, knock**

The sound of repeated knocking echoed through the quiet apartment. There was no response from Tharatchanan. She didn't even stir from the bed, where she lay curled up with her back to the door.

Finally, the door creaked open. Ladapha stepped inside and was immediately struck by the oppressive darkness of the room. The curtains were drawn tight, shutting out even the faintest trace of sunlight.

"You need to start being again," Ladapha said gently, walking closer to the bed. She gazed down at her sister, her heart aching at the sight of Tharatchanan's unmoving figure.

Worry gnawed at her. What if her sister was thinking of doing something drastic? Two days weren't long enough to fully heal, but seeing her wallow in despair like this wasn't helping anyone.

"Maybe I should call our *amazing* big brother to come stay with you for a while," Ladapha suggested, her tone both teasing and serious.

"Don't you dare!" Tharatchanan snapped, her voice muffled but sharp enough to show she wasn't entirely defeated.

"I'm not joking," Ladapha said, folding her arms. "If you keep acting like this, there's a real chance you'll do something reckless. So maybe having him here wouldn't be such a bad idea."

"You're not going to call him, are you?" Tharatchanan asked, her voice trembling. The thought of their hot-headed older brother showing up-and potentially escalating things with her ex-made her stomach twist. She couldn't risk a bigger problem brewing in this mess.

"That depends on you," Ladapha replied, tilting her head as she met her sister's gaze with quiet determination.

Tharatchanan sighed heavily, sitting up for the first time in days. She wiped her face and tried to steal herself. Ladapha was right, wallowing wouldn't help her heal, and the last thing she needed was more chaos in her life.

"Okay, you don't have to call and tell."

Ladapha laughed. "Good. Then let's go down and eat."

Tharatchanan nodded reluctantly and swung her legs off the bed. As Ladapha stepped back, her sister's gaze drifted toward a mirror across the room. The moment her reflection came into view, a loud, horrified scream filled the room.

"Ahh! Is that my face? Why do I look *this* terrible?"

Tharatchanan dashed to her vanity, staring at her reflection with wide, panicked eyes. Her once flawless complexion, free of wrinkles and blemishes, was now a pale, tired canvas with dark circles under her eyes. Her hands trembled as she traced the lines and shadows on her face, her disbelief turning into outright despair.

"This is unacceptable!" she cried, stomping her feet in frustration.

Ladapha, who had been watching from the doorway, burst into laughter. Her elder sister's over-the-top reaction, though dramatic, was a welcome change from the silence and sadness of the past two days.

"You really need to take better care of yourself," Ladapha teased, grinning. "At this rate, you might just end up single forever."

"Ladapha!" Tharatchanan snapped, glaring at her younger sister.

"Alright, alright," Ladapha said, waving her hands in mock surrender. "I'll wait for you downstairs. Don't take too long, okay?"

With that, she left the room, still chuckling to herself. Tharatchanan let out a sigh, shaking her head at her sister's antics before turning back to her reflection. Despite her embarrassment, she couldn't help but crack a small, reluctant smile. Maybe it was time to pick herself up and start moving on.

After the door clicked shut, Tharatchanan turned to the mirror once again. She couldn't believe how much she had let herself go in just two days. Her reflection-pale, tired, and almost unrecognizable-felt like a wake-up call. She let out a sigh and walked back to her bed to grab her phone.