Chapter 26
Days came and went—like passing shadows— And FreeBecky never exchanged a word.
Even after the exams ended and the college halls returned to life, Freen remained a distant echo. She only showed up when absolutely necessary for her presidential duties, her presence so fleeting it felt like a mirage—here one second, gone the next. Her absence was loud, deafening in places where her bold ice presence once lingered.
Becky, meanwhile, wore color again.
Not all of it, not the vibrant hues Freen once pulled out of her—but enough to not look hollow.
Because somewhere deep down, she knew: Freen could never hate her.
Even in silence, Freen’s choices had always come from love—a love that protected more than it punished.
With that truth resting quietly in her chest, Becky began to smile again.
She started mingling with friends, laughing at jokes, showing up for family dinners.
She was… functioning. Maybe even healing.
But healing doesn’t mean whole.
Because the ache—
the ache of never having Freen again—
never truly left.
It hovered just behind her smile. A soft bruise beneath her ribs.
It felt like they had both accepted it now—this cruel, silent fate.
With painful clarity in their heads, and hearts that still beat in sync from opposite ends of the world, both of them knew:
There was love.
There had always been love.
There would always be love.
But it wasn’t theirs to keep it any longer.
They could never be together.
And whatever time they had shared—every laugh, every tear, every midnight banter. It was a sacred, precious treasure now.
Something to lock away in memory and carry like a heartbeat.
Something to cherish in silence.
So Becky no longer dared to hope that Freen would talk to her again.
She knew Freen wouldn’t.
And Freen—willingly, heartbreakingly—chose not to.
But Freen still watched over her.
From behind pillars, across crowded rooms, through passing glances from friends.
She kept her eye on Becky, always—making sure if she was okay.
Becky couldn’t do the same.
Freen had become a ghost—barely showing up, floating through the campus like mist.
But Becky found ways to reach her, indirectly.
Softly asking Nam or Krik,
“How is she?”
“Is she okay?”
“Is she still holding the world on her shoulders like she always does?”
And that was enough.
For both of them.
A distant kind of love.
A quiet kind of forever.
They had been doing so well so far—keeping their distance, pretending to move on—but it was becoming harder for Freen to keep avoiding what was coming next. Her heart was caught in a storm she couldn’t quiet.
Because the very next day was December 5th.
Becky’s birthday.
She was finally turning eighteen.
Eighteen—a number that always held meaning. A milestone. A shift. She’d officially be considered an adult. But no matter what the world saw it as, Becky’s birthday is and will always be special for her and yet, she couldn't let that ruin everything they had gone through to get here—the boundaries, the space, the silence they were trying so hard to honor. Freen bit down on her lip, trying to hold herself together.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Becky’s parents were buzzing with excitement, ready to celebrate the big day. But Becky had already made it clear—she didn’t want to celebrate.
“But it’s your 18th birthday, baby,” her mum insisted softly, her voice laced with emotion.
“I know, Mum. And I’m happy too. It’s just… I don’t want to celebrate,” Becky replied firmly, her voice steady despite the heaviness in her chest.
Her dad stepped in, gently trying to sway her. “I know you may be feeling a certain way about it, sweetheart, but to us, you’re very special. You’re a precious grace from God. Even if you don’t want a big party, we still want to celebrate with you.”
“I understand, Dad,” Becky said, her tone soft but unwavering. “I feel your love every day, and I’m so grateful for all of it. But please, can you consider my request too?”
Her dad sighed deeply and glanced at her mum, who silently gave him a knowing look—the kind that said let it go.
“Just think about what everyone will say,” he continued, still reluctant. “You’re having the best time of your life. You’re in a world-famous university, your singing career is blooming, you’ve got BonBon—your little fighter—you have every reason to celebrate.”
Becky’s heart clenched at that.
I don’t have her, Dad. I don’t have Freen.
The thought flashed through her mind before she quickly pushed it away. She didn’t want to cry. Not in front of them. Not now.
“I know, Dad. But this life—it’s mine to live, not to perform. And with you two by my side, every day feels like my birthday. You love me so much, and I couldn’t ask for anything more,” she said, hugging him tightly.
Her dad finally gave in, wrapping his arms around her. “Alright, Becs… but at least spend the day with us. We’ll have that long-overdue family outing and a cozy movie night, just the four of us. Promise me?”
Becky nodded. “Promise.”
As her dad left the room, her mum lingered behind, watching her daughter with quiet concern. She gently sat beside Becky, her voice a soft murmur.
“It was her, wasn’t it?” she asked, almost a whisper. “The… daddy of BonBon?”
Becky froze, eyes wide. The question hit her like a wave she wasn’t ready for.
“Mum…” she breathed, shocked, her voice barely audible.
Her mum didn’t push. She simply reached out, rubbing Becky’s back with gentle circles and pulling her into a quiet hug. “I know it’s hard without her. But everything happens for a reason, my child. And someday, you’ll see how those reasons turn out to be in your favor.”
“I know, Mum… I just—I’m tired. I should try to sleep,” Becky said, stepping away from the conversation, trying to escape before the emotions could catch up to her.
“No cake, no guests, no celebration… please,” she added softly.
With a kiss on her mother’s cheek, she retreated to her room, closing the door behind her. Silence wrapped around her like a blanket, and the clock on the wall ticked toward midnight—as if waiting to crown this little princess into the queen she was becoming.
Becky tossed and turned in bed, fighting sleep, trying to silence every hopeful thought that dared to rise. She didn’t want to expect anything. She shouldn’t expect anything. But deep down, she knew who she was fooling. Herself.
She was hoping. Praying. Wishing—desperately—for Freen to remember. For Freen to care enough to wish her. That was the only wish that truly mattered to her. Directly or indirectly, Becky longed for Freen’s stamp on her 18th birthday. She didn’t want gifts. She didn’t want parties. She just wanted her. Still, she fought the urge to hope, knowing that expectations could break her heart all over again.
On the other side of the city, Freen was locked in her own silent war. Each ticking second made it harder to breathe. She couldn’t stop thinking about Becky—not today. She never could on days that mattered to her.
She remembered the day Becky signed her first singing contract. The moment Becky told her she wanted to adopt BonBon. The proud day when Becky’s debut single was released. And now—her birthday. How could Freen possibly ignore that?
How could she let it pass like just another day?
Freen couldn’t show up. She couldn’t reach out.
But maybe—just maybe—there was still a way to be a part of Becky’s day. Quietly. Indirectly. Like the bouquet of white lilies she sent recently to Becky on her very first song release.
Maybe she could still leave a piece of her heart behind, even if Becky never knew where it came from.
But how? Freen hadn’t even bought anything. She didn’t know if she should. She wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
“Why do people wait for birthdays to give someone a gift? Why can’t they just give it when they feel the other person needs it?” Freen muttered to herself, pacing in thought. She had no idea what to get Becky. She was terrible at gifts—presents, surprises, anything sentimental like that. She had never done it for anyone else in her life. It all felt… strange.
And for someone like her, it was even harder. She could afford anything. Money was never the problem. The real question was: what could be special? What could mean something?
But even deeper than that, there was fear.
Should I go for it?
What if fate peers into my heart and sees my weakness for her?
What if fate figures out I still hold so much for Becky?
What if it decides I haven’t let her go?
She shook her head, trying to drown those thoughts. She clenched her jaw and discarded every idea about Becky’s birthday.
“We came so far, Bec,” she whispered to herself, as if Becky could somehow hear her. “We went through hell for so long... I can’t ruin it now.”
And as the clock struck midnight, Freen's eyes welled with tears. Her voice trembled as she let the words fall into the quiet:
“Happy birthday, my little princess. May you have everything you’ve ever wanted…
Her voice broke. The pain in her heart was raw, heavy when she completed her sentence with………except me.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another, and another—until she was sobbing silently. She closed her eyes and imagined herself hugging Becky, holding her tight, so tight, it felt like her heart couldn’t breathe from how real it was.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Becky’s phone buzzed relentlessly. Names lit up the screen one after another—Irin, Nop, Mew, Jeff, Nam, Kade, Krik…
But not the name she was hoping for.
Not hers.
She didn’t answer any of the calls. She just sent polite replies to their messages. And eventually, as her eyes grew heavy, she fell asleep—still waiting for the one person who never showed up.