The night had fallen soft over the house. The earlier laughter, the teasing from my siblings, the warmth of Mom fussing over Anurak—it had all faded into the quiet of late evening. Only the soft hum of the city beyond, the occasional honk of a distant car, and the whisper of wind through the balcony leaves filled the air.
I had lingered inside, my mind still spinning from the evening. The family dinner, the surprise and warmth of everyone welcoming Anurak—it was more than I ever imagined. But there was one person I hadn't yet talked to properly, hadn't yet allowed myself to truly face.
Pa.
I remembered seeing him earlier, standing silently in the balcony after dinner, hands resting lightly on the railing, gaze lost somewhere in the night sky. There was something about the way he stood—so composed, so steady—but tonight, I imagined, maybe he was letting his mind wander, letting thoughts settle that he never spoke aloud.
I walked quietly, trying not to disturb the stillness. I stepped onto the balcony beside him, the cool air brushing my skin. He didn't startle or glance over at me immediately; he just continued looking outward, shoulders relaxed, the faint glow of the city reflecting on his face.
"Kael," he finally said, voice low, calm. "Didn't expect you out here."
I hesitated for a moment, fumbling with my hands. "I… I wanted to talk," I admitted softly.
He didn't say anything, just tilted his head slightly, inviting me to continue. I drew a deep breath, the nerves tightening in my chest. Tonight wasn't about lectures or scoldings. Tonight was about something I had never dared to say before.
Pa.…it's.. about Anurak…" I started, voice barely above a whisper. "I just… I wanted to know if… if you're okay with… me being with him."
A long pause followed. I could hear only the soft rustle of leaves, the distant hum of traffic, the beating of my own heart. I braced for the silence, the judgment, the words I didn't want to hear.
Finally, he exhaled, a quiet, deliberate breath. "Kael," he said, turning to glance at me, his eyes softer than I had ever seen. "You're my son. And if he makes you happy… that's all that matters."
My chest lifted, a weight I didn't realize I carried for years finally easing. "Really?" I whispered, voice cracking slightly. "You… you're truly okay with it?"
He nodded, his expression calm, steady, but his eyes—there was warmth there, a depth I had never seen before. "As long as you're happy, Kael… I am happy. And… I think he's a good one. A kind one. And… I can see he cares for you."
I blinked rapidly, tears threatening. So many times I had longed to hear his approval, his voice acknowledging me in ways beyond words. And now—here it was. Simple. Honest. Unassuming, yet it filled every corner of my chest with warmth.
I swallowed, stepping closer. "Pa… I… I don't think I've ever told you how much your presence… even when silent… meant to me. Even when you didn't hug me, didn't say much… I always knew you were there. And tonight… I just… I want you to know. It matters. You matter. You've always mattered."
His face softened, almost imperceptibly, and then he moved, slowly, hesitantly, until he opened his arms slightly. "Son"
I didn't think twice. I stepped in, pressing against him. My forehead rested against his chest, my arms wrapping around him. His hands found my back, strong and steady, as if grounding both of us. I felt his heartbeat—steady, calm, but alive. So alive.
"I never… never hugged you before, Dad," I whispered, voice muffled against his chest. "But I… I need this.."
He squeezed me lightly, and his voice, deep and quiet, rumbled softly. "Kael… it's okay. It's okay. I've been waiting for this, too. I just… I didn't know how to begin."
I could feel my tears wetting his shirt. I let myself cry quietly, but not in shame—only relief. Relief that he understood. Relief that finally, finally, I could let down all the walls I had built, the walls of fear, of silence, of hesitation. Relief that my father… my silent pillar… was here, and he always had been.
"I… I've always felt you near," I murmured. "Even when I didn't hear it. Even when you never said a word… I knew. And tonight… I just want you to know it means everything."
He held me tighter, and for the first time, I felt him exhale fully, a long breath of release. "Kael," he said softly, voice trembling just slightly, "you don't have to explain. You don't have to say it out loud. I've always known you. I've always been proud of you… quietly, silently, like I always am."
The wind brushed over us, carrying the faint scent of the garden flowers. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, the sound sharp in the night. I didn't care. All that mattered was the quiet connection, the warmth pressing around me, the heartbeat beneath my ear.
"I just…" I began, voice shaky, "I never thought I'd have the courage… to talk to you like this. About… feelings, about love. And now… it's like…" My words trailed off as I pressed closer. "…it's like a weight has lifted, and I can finally breathe."
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he just held me. And then, finally, his hand brushed against the back of my head, fingertips resting there, grounding, steadying. "Bun… you don't need to thank me. I'm here. I always will be. And if Anurak… or anyone… makes you happy, I'll always support that. Always."
I lifted my head slightly, looking up at him. My eyes met his, and for a moment, no words were needed. Everything I had feared—judgment, disapproval, misunderstanding—melted away. In its place was love. Pure, steady, unwavering love.
"Thank you," I whispered. "For… being here. For… everything."
He smiled faintly, a warmth in his gaze I had never dared to hope for. "You're welcome, Kael. Always."
I rested my forehead against his chest again, letting the night wrap us in its quiet embrace. I realized then that love didn't always need to be loud or declared. Sometimes, it was in the silence. In the warmth of a hug, in the steady heartbeat beneath your hands. In the knowledge that someone had always been there, even when you didn't see it.
And tonight, for the first time, I let myself feel it. Fully. Completely.
For the first time, my father had let me in—not with words, but with presence, with warmth, with love that didn't demand explanation. And I knew, as I pressed closer, that this bond—this quiet bridge between us—would hold me through everything. Through love, through life, through every storm that came.
Because sometimes, the strongest love was the one that didn't shout. The one that simply… stood there. Always.
And tonight, that love had embraced me, finally.