Tide of Fate

The clatter of spoons against ceramic from the kitchen jolted Sitt from his sleep. He tossed and turned on the sofa, trying to drift back off, but his mother’s chirpy voice filtering through made it clear his efforts were futile.

“Honey, look at him, our son is all grown up,” his mother said to his father, her voice excited and punctuated with a little giggle. “At the monthly get-together yesterday, I saw him walking over and talking to Nong Pan!”

Sitt frowned at the mention of the name. He recalled he had merely gone to greet Pan out of politeness yesterday; there was nothing special about it.

“Hmm... is that so?” his father replied flatly, sounding less than fully engaged. “And how is Nong Pan doing?”

“Oh, dear! She is adorable! So well-mannered, too. I think they’re perfectly suited,” his mother’s voice immediately picked up a notch. “Aunt Sumitra also praised Nong Pan for being such a good, well-behaved girl, and she’s smart, too! Nong Pan’s mother mentioned that she doesn’t usually talk to boys much, as she’s been in an all-girls school her whole life. Plus, Uncle Mana, Nong Pan’s father, is an old friend of Uncle Somsak, you know, the one who used to be your business partner before he branched out on his own.”

“Mom! Pan and I are the same age!” Sitt couldn’t hold back and blurted out from the room.

His mother fell silent for a moment, then burst into a bubbly laugh. “Oh, sweetie! But Nong Pan was born at the end of the year and you were born mid-year! She’s a few months younger, so you have to call her ‘Nong’ (younger sibling)!”

Sitt let out a huge sigh. He felt a lump forming in his throat. He absolutely hated it when his parents tried to set him up like this. It made him feel constrained and forced.

“But... what if Sitt doesn’t like her?” His father finally expressed a hint of concern for his son.

“Oh, honey! Kids just get shy sometimes,” his mother insisted, her voice rising. “They’ll probably come to like each other on their own, eventually. I think we need to help ‘create opportunities’ for them to get closer. Just now, I was chatting with Aunt Arunee, Nong Pan’s mother. She said she was delighted that Nong Pan had someone to talk to, as she’s normally too timid to speak with anyone. She asked if you could talk to Nong Pan more often. And for the next monthly get-together, Nong Pan’s mother specifically asked if you could look after her again.”

Upon hearing “create opportunities,” Sitt nearly fell off the sofa. That phrase sent a shiver down his spine. He knew exactly what his mother’s “opportunities” meant, and it wouldn’t be easy to avoid. The feeling of suffocation overwhelmed him until he felt he had to do something to put a stop to this plan.

Ideas raced through Sitt’s mind like a flock of birds startled by a gunshot. He knew that if he allowed his mother’s plan to advance even a little further, his peace of mind was over. He took a deep breath, gathered his courage, and blurted out the words like a cornered warrior making a desperate last strike.

“Mom! Enough already... I already like someone!”

The sentence was like a dark drop of ink hitting the surface of the water, and silence immediately fell over the table. The clinking of his father’s spoon against the bowl stopped, leaving only the scent of hot rice and the simmering soup in the pot on the stove.

His mother paused, then turned her head to look at her son fully. Her slender eyebrows furrowed. “What did you say? Who is it? Why didn’t I ever know?” Her voice unconsciously rose, a mix of surprise and displeasure.

Sitt avoided her gaze, one hand gripping the back of the chair for support. “Well... I didn’t want you to worry,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “But I think it has nothing to do with Pan.”

His father looked up from his rice bowl and smiled slightly, as if finding the situation amusing. “Oh, dear... just like me when I was young. I had plenty of girls chasing me back then—the school star, the girl from the music club—”

“That’s enough!” His mother cut him off immediately, her voice louder than intended, glaring at her husband. “Why are you telling your son about yourself? It’s completely irrelevant!”

His father chuckled softly, shrugging as if unconcerned. “Of course, it is. It’s natural for teenagers to have a crush. How can we expect him to grow up without a heart?”

Sitt allowed himself a faint smile at the comment. But his mother turned her attention back to him, her expression like a general refusing to let a prisoner escape. “Then why didn’t you tell me first? If you really like someone, I want to know... Or are you afraid I won’t approve?”

Sitt hesitated for a moment, looking out the window to escape the pressure. The morning light streamed through the thin curtains, yet it felt like the cold blade of a sword cutting through the air. “It’s not the right time... I just don’t want to talk about it yet.”

His mother sighed deeply, shaking her head gently like someone trying to suppress frustration. His father glanced at the tense atmosphere at the table and deliberately spooned rice into his mouth, seemingly trying to stay out of the scene. But the resulting silence only made every chew resonate louder in Sitt’s perception.

His father glanced between his wife and son, his expression like that of a traveler who had just realized a deep abyss lay ahead. He decided to cut the problem short abruptly, placing his spoon on the plate with a loudclankbefore jumping up from his chair.

“Uh... I think I need to rush off to work now. Running late, running late!” he mumbled, quickly backing out of the kitchen with unusually fast steps, like a person fleeing the rain before a storm hits.

Sitt watched his father’s back disappear, and instantly knew his time had truly come. In the suddenly quiet kitchen, only the scent of hot rice and faint soup lingered. His mother slowly placed her spoon down, but her gaze never left her son, not even for a blink.

“Alright, Sitt,” her voice was lower than usual, but heavy enough to make his heart stumble. “Tell me right now. Who... who is the person you like?”

Sitt felt rooted to the chair, his breathing slightly hitched. He swallowed dryly, trying to find words to evade the question, but found that the silence between him and his mother was stretching out so long he could almost hear his own heartbeat.

His mother continued to watch him steadily. Her eyes held not only curiosity but also a mix of concern and expectation. She tilted her head slightly, waiting for him to confess. “Sitt... I’m asking you nicely. Don’t make me ask again.”

He averted his gaze toward the window where the morning light streamed in. Dust motes sparkled in the beam, as if time had momentarily stopped. The clatter of a wok from a neighboring house faintly drifted in, yet the silence in this kitchen was so profound it felt like two people had been isolated from the outside world.

“Mom... I don’t think this is the right time to talk about it,” he said slowly, his tone trying to maintain politeness, but he knew this answer would not satisfy her.

His mother’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Not the right time... or are you afraid I won’t like them?”

The question cut deep, like a sharp blade. He pressed his lips together, daring neither to affirm nor deny. His mother leaned forward slightly, placing her palm on the table in front of him—softly but firmly.

“Sitt... I am your mother. There’s nothing I can’t handle. But I need to know, so I can protect you properly.”

His heart hammered harder with every passing second. A strange mixture of deference and stubborn silence clashed silently in his chest. He knew that if he spoke, everything might change, but if he didn’t... his mother wouldn’t stop asking.

He sat rigidly, their eyes still locked. The morning kitchen had turned into a battlefield with no gunfire, only heavy pressure forcing him to choose his path in the next moment.

His mother turned back to stare at him with an unrelenting, demanding gaze that offered no escape. “Fine! Sitt!” Her voice dropped lower, but was now filled with authority. “Tell me right now! Who! Who is the person you like?”

Sitt swallowed hard... He instantly realized that instead of solving a problem, he had just created a new one that might be longer and more complicated than the last.

🚗 The low rumble of the engine played alongside old songs from the radio. Sitt sat in the backseat of his mother’s car, his eyes staring out at the trees slowly passing by the window. But the view barely registered. All that echoed in his head was his mother’s voice repeating over and over:

“Who is the person you like!”

That question had been a heavy iron pendulum swinging in his heart all week since that chaotic Sunday morning. Sitt still hadn’t given his mother a clear answer. He felt trapped in his own making; he had tried to avoid a setup, but had only created a far more complicated problem.

He didn’t genuinely like anyone in a serious way right now—at least not in the way his mother demanded to know. Although he genuinely felt good about Namtan, with her bright, tomboyish smile, she hadn’t given him any clear signals about how she felt. What if he told his mother straight out that he liked Namtan, only to find out Namtan didn’t like him back? He would be utterly embarrassed in front of his mother.

A thousand thoughts tangled in his head. He couldn’t figure out a way out. Every time his mother brought up the subject, the various schemes she had planned to “create opportunities” for him and Nong Pan surfaced like mushrooms. And then there was the fact that he was supposed to “look after” Pan at this month’s get-together.

Sitt closed his eyes, sighing wearily, trying to organize the messy pile of thoughts.

The song on the radio switched to a slow, sentimental ballad. The image of Nong Pan’s calm face from the other day drifted into his mind. He admitted she was pretty, but his feelings stopped right there; there really was nothing more. So why was his mother trying so hard?

CRASH! CLUNK!

The soft but sudden slam of the car door jolted Sitt. He snapped his eyes open to find the car parked, and his mother standing outside, beaming with expectation.

“We’re here, sweetie! This month’s get-together is at Uncle Chalee’s house,” his mother said brightly. “Remember? The house just past the school.”

Sitt looked out the window. The familiar large school building stood majestically not far away, and next to it was a sprawling house bustling with people. Laughter and music drifted faintly to the car.

The monthly get-together... and Nong Pan.

He swallowed hard, gathering his composure before opening the car door to face the “opportunity” his mother had created for him once again.