Chapter 38
“I cracked it! I cracked it! I cracked it, babe!”
Becky was bouncing in Freen’s arms like a little kid on too much sugar and sunshine.
Freen, stunned by the sudden wave of Becky’s high-octane happiness, tightened her hold, trying to steady her excited girlfriend.
“You what now?” Freen blinked. “And you’re not messing with me, right? Because if this is another prank—”
“No, babe! Not this time!” Becky cut her off, eyes wild with adrenaline.
“I almost gave up today. Almost. But in that very last moment—boom! It all clicked!”
She pulled Freen in closer, practically shaking with excitement. “You have to come home with me. I need to show you. You won’t believe what I figured out, babe. You won’t believe it!”
Freen couldn't help it—she laughed, wrapping her arms even tighter around Becky.
She didn’t care what Becky had found, not in this moment.
What mattered was that Becky didn’t give up—even when Freen herself was seconds from walking away.
God, how do you even find someone like her?
If it were up to Freen, she'd worship this girl’s soul like it was sacred.
Every. Single. Day.
All around them: chaos.
Flashing cameras. Shouting reporters. Security guards trying to keep everything under control.
But in the eye of the storm—
Becky was holding Freen like the world could end and they’d still be standing.
Becky couldn’t stop grinning.
“Damn, this always feels like a dream,” she thought to herself.
Becky’s eyes sparkled like she was carrying galaxies in them.
“You won’t believe it, babe. But first… can I kiss you?” she whispered, lips twitching into a pout. “Please?”
Freen chuckled and nodded, helpless against the puppy eyes.
And just like that—Becky closed the space between them, pressing her lips to Freen’s with everything she had.
It was a kiss of triumph. Of relief. Of love that had fought through everything.
Cameras be damned.
Crowd screaming or not.
They kissed like it was just the two of them in the world.
And they might’ve just kept kissing forever—
Until a familiar voice awkwardly cleared his throat beside them.
“Uh-uhm.”
They jumped back like guilty teens caught in the act.
Becky’s dad was standing there, arms folded, brows raised—but a tiny smile tugged at his lips.
“Shall we go home now?” he asked, amusement slipping through his formal tone.
Freen nodded, wrapping an arm protectively around Becky.
“Yeah. But we’re gonna need security guards,” she muttered. “Let me call Carlos and Meg. They still owe me answers for a lot of things, but right now—we need to get out of here first.”
And with that, the two of them slipped out, hearts pounding, hand in hand—
stepping out of the chaos,
toward the next chapter they never saw coming.
Back at Sarocha's mansion...
The living room was unusually loud, flooded with laughter, clinking glasses, and bursts of excitement. The huge flat screen played a loop of Becky and Freen’s now-viral kiss. The moment had gone global.
There they were—kissing in the middle of chaos, cameras flashing like fireworks—
The royal rebel and the rising star.
Live. Raw. Unapologetically in love.
Gathered in the room were everyone dear:
Grandma, regal in her chair yet teary-eyed.
Miss Orntara, sipping tea with a tissue pressed to her cheek.
Krik, sitting straight but visibly overwhelmed.
Nam, Kade, Irin, huddled together, their laughter loudest as they replayed the scene like fangirls at a concert.
The news headlines were wild—some bizarre, some brutal. Becky's career hung by a thread, while Freen’s true identity was exposed, shaking the reputation of an entire nation.
"Nation's Secret Princess Found Kissing New Singer on Live TV!"
"Becky's Career Over? Industry in Shock!"
"Royal Family Breaks Silence on LGBTQ+ Romance!"
Some channels turned it into a fairytale.
Others, a scandal.
The gay community exploded online—creating fan pages, hashtags, and hosting full-on panel debates defending their love.
But inside the mansion—there was no panic. There was only joy.
Grandma raised her glass and everyone followed.
“To love that dares. And to girls who don’t give up.”
Becky had brought Freen home—not in secret, not in shame, but with pride in her steps and love in her eyes.
And to Grandma, that alone was worth every tear she shed that night.
Krik, still processing the media storm, leaned toward her.
“Grandma... aren’t you worried?” he asked quietly. “Now that everyone knows who Freen really is—and not just that, how she’s been living like a normal girl… won’t this affect the royal reputation?”
Grandma smirked—calm, unbothered, and brilliant in her wisdom.
“My dear child,” she said, her tone laced with knowing grace,
“This is all entertainment. People live for it. They’ll be obsessed, debate, cry, hate, love—and then… they’ll move on to the next scandal. That’s how the world spins.”
She sipped her tea and continued,
“It’s love, Krik. And love should never bow to anyone. Let them talk. Let them gossip. We’ll give them a show if they want. Meanwhile…”
She winked.
“You chill. I’ll handle everything.”
Krik was speechless, moved by the sheer strength and elegance in her words.
She really was the queen—not just by blood, but by the kind of wisdom power can’t teach.
As news anchors screamed into mics and hashtags kept trending—
Inside this warm, softly lit room, a quiet truth held steady:
No matter what the world throws, Becky’s talent and transparency will help her flourish her career.
Their love will weather it all.
It’s going to be alright.
And so, the celebration continued, music playing, hearts beating, as two souls who dared to love found their home.
Back at Becky’s home,
Becky led Freen into her study room. She gently made Freen sit on the couch while Freen looked around, stunned by the chaotic charm of Becky’s space. Books were piled everywhere, research papers scattered like confetti, empty coffee cups abandoned in random corners. The whiteboard was a mess of scribbles—and there it was, a half-lit cigarette on the floor.
“Don’t tell me you started smoking?” Freen asked, worried, pointing at the cigarette.
“Don’t call it a cigarette! If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t have cracked anything at all. I’m gonna worship it,” Becky said dramatically. “And no, I didn’t start smoking. But first, look here.”
With fiery enthusiasm, Becky pointed toward the whiteboard.
“Okay, so this is going to be a little painful ride back to the past… but you’re stronger than this. Shall I start?”
Freen nodded.
Becky took a deep breath and began.
“Here—the first thing that ever happened: your dad passed away in an accident… while he was in Germany.”
“Here—your best friend passed away… when you were on a world tour with your grandma.”
“Here—your first-ever pet died… because you were in another country with your mom on a business trip.”
“Here—your grandfather passed away… after going to Germany for treatment.”
“Here…Becky paused, her voice heavy. “Your mom… she passed while on a business trip abroad.”
“Here—your Paris project. It was Krik who represented it while you were still in Bangkok.”
“Here—BonBon got sick… when he was at my grandpa’s place, absolutely isolated in an exile town.”
“Here—I got into that accident… at the exact time you were about to land in Paris.”
“Can you see it, babe?” Becky circled each moment on the board. “Can you see the pattern?”
Freen stared at the whiteboard. Slowly, as realization dawned, she stood up, stunned. Wide eyes, touching white board with her fingers, imbibing every detail that becky had worked on.
“So…” Freen’s voice trembled, laced with shock and breaking apart with each word. “So… when I distance myself from the people I love… they die,” she whispered, frozen in place.
“But,” Becky said firmly, walking up to her, “I don’t believe that the cause of people passing away is you. I don’t. What I do believe is… you keep people safe when you’re with them.”
Freen started pacing, visibly shaken. “How stupid of me not to see the pattern. It was all right there. That means… if I had stayed with my dad, my mom, my grandfather—if that distance never existed—they might still be alive…”
She buried her hands in her hair, spiraling. “All this time… I’ve been fighting something that was never even real.”
“Babe. You suffered under this false belief for so long. I can’t believe you went through such extreme mental trauma thinking fate was cruel to you. But it wasn’t. You weren’t cursed. If anything, you were blessed. You have this mystic power—to protect the ones you love just by being near them. Don’t twist it. Don’t let your pain tell you lies anymore,” Becky said, her voice trembling with emotion.
She reached for Freen, steadying her, comforting her.
“It’s all too clear now,” Becky continued. “I met with that accident the moment you were about to land in Paris. That was distance. But I recovered because you decided to come back to me.”
“I can’t believe you never saw the pattern before… you suffered so much, my MooDeang,” she said, rubbing Freen’s back, grounding her.
Freen was still processing.
“Maybe… maybe if you had just told someone—Grandma, Krik, anyone—maybe they could’ve seen it. Maybe… you didn’t have to suffer alone…” Becky gently pulled her into a long, warm hug. Freen didn’t resist. She melted into it, letting go—for the first time in years.
Her tears began to fall. The heaviest burden she'd ever carried was being lifted, all thanks to Becky… the only one who never gave up on her.
She sobbed into Becky’s arms as the minutes passed. She didn’t speak. She didn’t move. She just held on.
The truth… It was relieving. Almost too relieving to believe. Her entire life, she had believed the exact opposite.
Even now, Freen still thought… If only I had stayed… would my dad, my mom… would they still be alive?
But this moment wasn’t for guilt. It was for truth.
A truth that freed her.
“So it means… if I had flown to the US tonight… your life would’ve definitely been in danger,” Freen whispered as the realization hit her like a punch to the chest.
She hugged Becky even tighter, her arms wrapping around her as if letting go would shatter the entire world.
“Ammuhhmmmm” Becky shook her head.
Freen cupped Becky’s face, her voice trembling. “I know it might sound like a limitation,” she whispered, “but I swear, I love this kind of limit. I can’t bear even a second—let alone a single inch—away from you.”
Becky chuckled softly against her shoulder, holding her back just as tightly.
“I know, babe. I kinda like it too,” she admitted. “But I’m a thousand percent sure that people going down with their life has nothing to do with you. Sure, you being with them might’ve saved them… but I don’t, not for a second, believe that you were—or ever will be—the reason they died.”
Her voice stayed steady as she repeated it again and again, gently anchoring Freen back to the truth. She would never let Freen carry the weight of something that was never hers to bear.
Freen sighed, her lips brushing Becky's cheek. “Who knows, my BecBec… we still have to figure all that out.”
And with that, she leaned back just enough to shower Becky’s face with a flurry of kisses—forehead, cheeks, nose, chin—peppering her with love, relief, and overflowing gratitude.
“Thank you… thank you, thank you soooo much my BB,” Freen murmured between kisses, her voice cracking.
For not giving up on me.
For not giving up on us.
For not giving up on our love.
You’re for sure an angel, and I love you sooooo sooo much, babieee.”
Tears sparkled in her eyes as she kissed Becky’s lips again & again.
“I swear I’ll protect you at all costs. Even if it means staying close to you—or staying far away. I’ll do anything.”
She kissed her lips with the softest desperation.
But before the moment could pull them deeper into fear again, Becky gently stopped her.
“No more distance, please,” she whispered, her thumb brushing Freen’s cheek.
And this time, she let Freen kiss her again—longer, warmer, with the weight of fate melting in their closeness.
Even though the curse never existed but still the distance thing is still mystic about freen, Becky insisted they still need to talk to Grandma.
“For your own peace of mind… let’s go see her tomorrow,” Becky whispered. “We need the guidance of someone wise. And who better than Grandma? I promise she’ll know what to say.”
Freen only nodded, overwhelmed.
That night, she barely spoke. She sat quietly, letting the truth sink in, revisiting every chapter of her life. Every silent battle she had fought. Every moment she had denied herself joy. Every time she had resisted love, numb from grief.
And now… the tears just wouldn’t stop.
Just like a child, Freen fell asleep in Becky’s arms.
Her savior.
The next day, they went straight to Grandma’s place. As soon as they stepped in, Grandma rushed to hug both Freen and Becky tightly, planting extra kisses on Becky’s cheeks for being so fearlessly brave. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “I’m proud of you.”
Freen, meanwhile, hugged Grandma longer than she ever had before. Now that she finally could—she could show affection, live under the same roof, let her love spill freely—she held on tight. Grandma’s heart melted. She had never seen this side of Freen—clinging, needy for hugs, craving warmth like a child rediscovering comfort.
“Well, well, well,” Grandma teased with a grin, “look who decided to show up—the IT couple of the entire nation.”
Freen and Becky shyly walked into the living hall, still holding hands.
“You two already have my blessings, so now tell me quickly—when’s the wedding?” Grandma asked, eyes twinkling.
Becky choked on nothing but air, while Freen warned with a laugh, “Ma…”
“Okay, okay! Let’s take it slow,” Grandma said playfully, though Becky couldn’t help but notice how Freen shared that same unfiltered, wildly blunt nature—definitely her grandmother’s granddaughter.
“Grandma,” Freen said, switching to her usual, grounded tone, “we actually need your guidance on something serious. So please, for just this once… act your age.”
“What age? I’m always in my 30s,” Grandma joked with a wink. “Now, what is it—media, news, scandal?”
“No… it’s about something else…” Freen hesitated, the words heavy on her tongue. It was hard even to begin.
Becky gently stepped in. “Grandma… Freen’s been going through something for a long, long time. She never dared to tell you because she was scared you might hate her. But now that everything is clearer, and we know it was all just a terrible misunderstanding… she still needs peace of mind. Can you please help her?”
Grandma’s face sobered instantly. Her brows drew together with concern. She turned to Freen, her voice soft but firm. “What is it, my child?”
Freen began from the very beginning—every memory, every fear, every ounce of guilt she had carried for years—until she reached the part where Becky gave her a new perspective, helping her unravel it all.
By the end, Grandma stood up in complete shock.
“You never told me any of this?” Her voice cracked. “You suffered all of it alone?”
Tears welled up in her eyes as she walked over and pulled Freen into a tight embrace.
“And here I thought I was doing my best to give you everything… while you were living through hell inside your own mind. No therapy, no sharing with anyone—not even Nam or Krik. How did you survive all that, my Freen?”
She pulled back just enough to look her granddaughter in the eyes, voice filled with disbelief and heartbreak.
“And above all that—you believed it? You believed it was your fault?”
Grandma turned sharply toward Becky. “Becky… how do I thank you, my child?” Her eyes welled again, this time with gratitude. “If it weren’t for you, she would’ve never come out of that spiral. Never.”
She hugged Becky tightly, a hug full of unspoken thanks—for her strength, her patience, and her unwavering belief in Freen.
Once the weight of the moment passed, Grandma stood straighter, her tone shifting into one of urgency.
“Alright. We’re going to Vastu.”
“Vastu?” Freen blinked.
“He’s a very reputable and highly accurate astrologer from India. If anyone can clarify this cosmic mess, it’s him,” Grandma announced. “Now, let’s go.”
And with that, she marched toward the door, Freen and Becky following close behind, hand in hand.