Work brought Yeh back to Bangkok once more. Shooting was already halfway through, and although the production manager oversaw day-to-day operations, as the presenter and producer she felt it necessary to assess the overall progress in person and finalise details regarding post-production.
The air in Bangkok remained thick and sweltering, heat waves shimmering between the high-rise buildings, and the sun bore down relentlessly without a hint of gentleness.
She had arrived the day after Lin and Jing moved into their new apartment in Yeh's city. Yeh had deliberately arranged her schedule so their paths wouldn't cross, avoiding the bittersweetness of seeing them settle into a home together.
Even so, images kept rising unbidden in her mind: the two of them unpacking boxes, browsing furniture stores, arranging each piece carefully until the empty rooms grew warm and lived-in. She could easily picture Lin selecting items with thoughtful care while Jing stood by smiling softly, saying, "Whatever you like is fine with me."
She imagined their final day in the old apartment too—packing the very last boxes, turning off the lights, closing the door gently behind them, standing there for a moment to say goodbye. Comforting each other with quiet reassurances: "It'll be alright, we'll get used to the new life soon." A dull ache spread through Yeh's chest at the thought, but she quickly pushed the images away before they could deepen into pain.
During this trip, Yeh also met with Olina, a potential business partner who had long expressed interest in Yeh's business. Olina had proposed investing early on, though Yeh hadn't seriously considered it then. Now, seated in a quiet café for an afternoon meeting, Olina renewed the offer, laying out her vision clearly: with her as a shareholder, the company could expand significantly in Bangkok, where talent was abundant and costs manageable. They could sign new artists and develop long-term projects.
The proposal was undeniably attractive, yet Yeh knew it would require her to be based in Bangkok for a long period—managing operations, talents, and expanding international business. Her original goal had been creating high-quality dramas, not talent management or running a cross-border company. She gave no immediate answer, promising only to think it over. Her initial plan had been simpler: return to Bangkok next year when development began on new projects; everything else was still undecided.
Fiona had accompanied Yeh on this trip, and one evening after work they visited their usual bar. As soon as they sat down, Yeh was struck by a sense of familiarity tinged with the passing of time. This place held memories linked to Lin—it was also where she had once insisted firmly that romance with a woman would never be part of her reality. Thinking back, she couldn't help a wry smile.
Knowing Yeh's feelings, Fiona made conversation easier than usual. They ordered drinks, and Fiona asked casually, "How is your relationship with Lin?"
Yeh shrugged with weary resignation. "Same as always."
Sensing her mood, Fiona pressed gently, "What's wrong?"
Yeh took a slow sip before answering quietly. "I've realised… falling for someone is exhausting." She paused, then added, "You start noticing every little thing she does, and everyone around her too."
Fiona understood instantly. "You mean Jing?"
Yeh looked at her. "Did Lin tell you?"
"She did," Fiona nodded. "And she also told me there's nothing between them."
Yeh sighed softly. "But they're so close… it still hurts."
Fiona laughed gently. "Don't torture yourself like that. Think about it—if Lin didn't care about you, why would she stay at your place instead of mine?"
"I invited her," Yeh replied simply.
"But she accepted," Fiona countered earnestly. "And I've seen the way she looks at you. She definitely cares."
Yeh fell silent for a moment before murmuring, "But not as much as she cares for Jing."
Unsure how to respond, Fiona changed the subject. "When exactly did you fall for her?"
Yeh thought back. "Probably the very first time we met in her office." She smiled faintly. "Actually… I have you to thank you for that."
Fiona blinked in surprise. "You've been carrying this around for that long? Thank me for what?"
Yeh swirled the amber liquid in her glass. "For introducing us. For giving me something so beautiful, regardless of how it ends."
She told Fiona then about New Year's Eve, the tension during the game at the bar, and Lin's question repeated more than once: "Do you like women?" and her own guarded answer.
"Just… don't tell her any of this," Yeh added.
Fiona smiled. "Don't worry—I won't. Though I suspect she already knows."
"It matters not if she figures it out herself," Yeh said with a shrug. "Back then, I wasn't ready to show my hand."
Saying it aloud lifted a heavy weight Yeh had carried alone for too long. Glancing at Fiona beside her, she felt deeply grateful. Without Fiona, she might never have found the courage to start her production company, nor met Lin.
She raised her glass. "Truly—thank you."
Fiona laughed, surprised. "Why so serious all of a sudden?"
"For always being there," Yeh said, smiling.
Their glasses clinked softly, merging with the music playing in the background.
In that moment, Yeh felt a profound sense of acceptance—that everything was meant to be: meeting Fiona, starting her work in television and films, crossing paths with Lin. She decided then to simply trust whatever fate had in store for her next.