"Kieng, come here."

 

Ning pulls me closer and adjusts my tie. She smiles and pats my chest with Sorn and Mee watching us nearby. They arrived in the evening to visit Ning. I heard they'd eat out together. I can't join them due to my own plan. I smile at Sorn, who has never changed since the first time we met. Mee looks older, but he's as cool as ever. They still run the restaurant in Bang Saen with the four units above rented out by new residents, but my story with Ket will never be forgotten. It lingers there, never fading away.

 

"Bring the bread to his mom."

 

"Okay."

 

I wave all of them goodbye and place the whole wheat bread stuffed with red bean paste from Ning's favourite bakery into the basket of my motorbike. I put on a helmet and head in the opposite direction from the school.

 

The air in Chiang Rai is chilly in the evening, so I need to tighten my coat. The sky is open today, perfect for stargazing. I ride across the road, past the stores playing northern music, and edge through the quiet alleys. In half an hour, I pull over in front of the massive house surrounded by plumeria trees, Ket's mother's favourite plant. I kill the engine in front of the house and slide the gate open as if it's my place. An old woman greets me on the spot.

 

"Mr Kieng." Her smile is as warm as ever.

 

"Hello, Aunt Noi."

 

"You're early today."

 

"Ning had a plan with her friends, so she didn't fuss over me too much."

 

"Is she doing well?"

 

"Yes."

 

Since the first day we met, Aunt Noi has been taking care of me as well as she takes care of her employer, like I'm her own child. Even though this is a vacation house in Chiang Rai, not their home in Bangkok, even though there's no barking from Mr Coffee like back in the day, even though Oleang and Somcheng aren't swimming in the fish tank, everyone is as warm as ever.

 

"Where's Ket's mom?" I glance around the unlit house.

 

"She's in her room upstairs. She thought you wouldn't come."

 

Aunt Noi's words take me aback, but I don't ask why Ket's mom has such a thought. I changed the subject to someone else.

 

"What about Ket?"

 

"You can wait in your regular spot. I'll bring him to you."

 

"Thank you."

 

I walk through the house to the back garden, which I visit yearly. There's a giant trumpet tree blooming beautifully today, the colour contradicting the night sky. I sit on the bench, remove my coat, and inhale the cold air with my eyes closed.

 

The weather is great today. The mild scent of plumerias is the unique feature of this backyard. The small lawn next to the wooden lathed terrace fits the place perfectly. I rock back and forth while waiting for the other guy. When I hear the glass door sliding open, I turn to Aunt Noi, who's bringing Ket to me. My eyes soften when I see Ket under the beautiful sky. I hold out my arms and embrace him to my chest.

Without a word, Aunt Noi lets me be alone and returns inside.

 

"I'm here. I've missed you."

 

The urn in my arms is made of gorgeous white ceramic. I visit Ket in this place every death anniversary to chat with his ashes until daybreak, stargazing together. In

some years, however, the sky was cloudy, raining, or brightened by the gigantic moon. This year, the sky is dotted with stars. I tighten my arms around Ket, kiss the urn softly, and lean back.

 

"The stars are stunning tonight, aren't they?"

 

Although we're together like this, I can't deny that, deep down, I'm lonely and yearn for him. I long to touch his flesh, be embraced in his long arms, and hear his low voice whispering in my ear that he won't leave and will always be with me. It's all just a dream.

I chat with Ket about this and that. I don't care about what others say. I don't care if the other housekeepers call me crazy for talking to someone's ashes. I'm just happy to tell Ket my stories each year.

 

"Today..." My voice trails off, then I smile at the urn on my lap.

 

"I met someone similar to you."

 

The man with a broad back and soft hair like Ket had. Even his smile is charming.

 

"He emits a blue aura like when I first met you. It's like the colour of the sea that I love. His voice is also soft and low. A bit lower than yours, though. His eyes are long and gorgeous. The colour is slightly lighter than yours. You have different faces, but he looks more mature, and you both share the same lips. But you're the most handsome to me. If you were still here, you'd be a hundred times more handsome for

sure. The man Phukao's dad. I once said he was similar to you when you were young.

How strange. The man has the same name as you, but his full name is Ketdan, not Khobket."

 

My eyes burn up, but I hold back my tears.

 

"Ket… Will you be mad if I say the man's hand was warm like yours when he wiped my tears?"

 

Guilty tears stream down my face. Longing for someone's warmth, I let myself take pleasure in his touch. Nonetheless, there's no guarantee of what direction my relationship with that man will take. Even though Ket was still in my heart, my heart raced for someone else. The awful feelings overwhelm me.

 

"Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Ket."

 

Someone's slender hand touches my hair. I glance up at the owner, my eyes blurry with tears.

 

"Ma'am."

 

Ket's mother hugs me. I never received warmth from my mother. However, my beloved's mother has treated me like her own child for the past 10 years.

 

"I'm glad to hear that."

She releases me and settles by my side. She looks at Ket's urn on my lap and gently strokes it.

 

"I'm sorry. It was relieved to see you cry," Ket's mother laughs as I sob like a kid. My age doesn't make me look older in her eyes.

 

"Every time you came here, you'd usually smile and talk to him. You'd have that smile on your face even five, six, or eight years later, like you were happy even if my son was gone. Now that you've cried and mentioned another man, I felt relieved all of a sudden."

 

I press my lips together tightly.

 

"But I"

 

"I won't be angry with you if you wish to let Ket go. Even if you don't develop a relationship with the new man, hope you embrace those around you, not the one who's no longer here."

 

"I hope you hug someone with flesh and blood, not ashes."

 

My eyes turn dim. As Ket's mother said, I've been used to being happy with what I have left for ten years. I hugged Ket's shirt to sleep every night, talked to Ket in the photo in the morning, and greeted him when I got home as if he was waiting for me. On every death anniversary, I would prepare an extra portion of food for him. I've been doing it with joy without realising how bizarre it was.

 

Her smile shows how strong she is as a mother who lost her only son. After five years, she stopped talking to her son's ashes. She kept the urn in the cabinet and never took it out until I visited Ket. On the contrary, I can't quit doing it even after ten years. Even when I wasn't with him, I'd talk to him. The living is supposed to be with the living. The dead can only be in our hearts and memories. I slowly loosen my embrace around Ket's urn.

 

"Ma'am."

 

"Yea?"

 

"Do you think Ket will be mad if I start over with that person?"

 

"I doubt that. I think he'll be glad that you finally let him go."

"But I'm scared. I'm scared that if I move on, one day.."

 

"You'll forget him?"

 

My voice trails off. I gaze at the scenery of mountains at night. The green forest before us looks terribly isolated and lonely.

 

"You wouldn't have kept his shirt if you wanted to forget him, right?"

 

I turn my head to Ket's mother in shock. She offers me a small smile as if she knows my routine. This time, I won't blame Ning for still contacting Ket's mother. These two women are close and have become friends.

 

"Ket is still up there, Kieng."

 

She looks up at the starry sky.

 

"When you feel lonely, alone, or unwanted..

 

"Look for the brightest star," I add, gazing at the brightest star. As Ket once said, when you die, you become a star in the sky.

 

"Ket is in my heart and yours. Even if he's not here, you're still my child. This house welcomes you always."

 

She places her hand on top of mine on Ket's urn. Her wrinkled hand, indicative of our birth, learning, and death, is a reminder that we are born to be old, learn, and die.

 

"Let Ket go, dear."

 

The cool breeze drifts through our bodies on the night of Ket's death anniversary. The clock shows it will be the time Ket fell asleep on the rooftop on his last day in a few minutes. I rise and walk to the fence overlooking the endlessly stretching green forest.

I remove the lid of the urn, tilt it, and let the wind bring his ashes far away.

 

My streaming tears slowly stop, leaving only my trembling shoulders and a sob in my throat. Every action and the beating heart in my chest are evidence of the life the other guy wished for me to live. My flesh and blood are his pleadings. Because he wanted me to be happy and live a strong life.

 

"If the next life exists, I hope we meet again."

I gaze at the starry sky and spot the most beautiful and brightest star up there. It briefly blinks as if accepting my wish tonight. My dark heart has discovered the brightest star.

 

"I'm leaving

...Goodbye, Ket."

I'm sorry.

 

I unlock the door and dash into the bathroom before puking so much that I lose all my energy, clearing out all my dinner. Once I feel better, I stand still, looking at my square room. The discomfort in my heart for ten years has suddenly lifted. I take off my shirt and toss it onto the floor without a care. I remove my pants and throw them away, then put on my shorts and flick my gaze to Ket's folded white shirt. I put it on, inhale his pleasant scent, and draw the curtain veiling the night sky open.

 

I settle by the glass door and gaze at the starry sky. The reflection of my face reminds me of that day in Bangkok. I place my palm on the clear glass and stroke it gently. Ket's words replay in my head, echoing in my ears. Because you made that face! I smile at myself. At the man with beautiful eyes, a small nose, and cute lips, as Ket said. I'd like to thank the man in the reflection for being so strong. Had he not been strong, I would've broken into pieces. Thank you.

 

Buzz, buzz.

My phone vibrates on the floor, showing an unknown number. Besides my seniors and friends in Bang Saen, those who call me are coworkers, insurance sales agents, or credit card sales representatives. hesitate for a few moments, not really feeling like picking up. However, something nudges me to answer it.

 

"Hello."

 

[Mr Kiengggg.]

 

I remember the cheerful voice well since it belongs to one of the third graders in my class. This clear voice is definitely Phukao's.

 

"Phukao."

 

[You recognise my voice.]

 

"Where did you get my number?"

 

[Miss Phueng gave it to me.]

 

I see.

 

The clattering sound on the other end puts a smile on my face. The little boy must be playing with the phone or turning it upside down because it's so loud. I have a question for Phukao, but I'm unsure if I'll get an answer. I don't even know if I should ask why he called me this late at night. 

 

Is his dad not there?

 

"Phukao."

 

[Mr Kieng, I need your help.]

 

The little boy's words make me go still and wait. I never expected he would remember what I said in class, 'if you need anything, tell me, and I'll help you,' and call me like this.

 

[Dad cried.]

 

[I'm worried about him.]

 

"Is he not home?"

 

[He is. He's sleeping]

 

"Where's your mom?" Aren't they with him? Why did they let a little kid phone someone right now? It's past one in the morning.

 

[Dad said Mommy is an angel in the sky.]

 

My heart stings in my chest. The information startles me so much that my heart aches. Why wouldn't I know what it means? It's something adults say to comfort children when someone is no longer in this world. Before Phukao continues, I hear another clattering sound and another voice on the other end. The tiny voice has now been replaced by a soft, low voice, painfully similar to someone I'm missing.

 

[Mr King, I'm sorry. fell asleep and Phukao took my phone.] His flustered voice shows he had no idea his son secretly called me with his phone.

 

"Yeah. It's okay."

 

[I'm really sorry..Phukao, stop it.

 

[But I want to talk to Mr Kieng]

 

[Why? It's late. We need to sleep.]

 

[You were crying. Mr Kieng will comfort you. He's comforted me many times.]

 

A pause.

 

[I'll talk to Mr Kieng, then. You go to bed.]

 

[I'm sorry, Mr Kieng.] The man speaks to me after arguing with his son.

 

"It's okay. Phukao is just worried about you."

 

[I was just stressed out over work]

 

You cried in front of your son because of work?

 

[Anyway, Mr King-You can tell me why you cried when we met.]

 

"I'm fine." I fix my eyes on my reflection in the glass door. The large shirt on my body feels like it's hugging me.

 

[Are you really fine, though?]

 

"What about you? Are you really okay?"

 

We fall into silence. Only the sounds of the AC and the windchime on the balcony keep me company.

 

[Mr Kieng.]

 

"Yes?"

 

[Can you come and see me?]

 

I stand on the footpath in the chill night air, dropping my gaze to fidgeting feet. The road is nearly empty at almost two in the morning except for the occasional accelerating motorbikes and bicycles. Oddly enough, I agreed to see him even if I'd just reached home. But Phukao's words convinced me that my story and this family's are familiar.

 

The man lost his wife. The little boy, innocent and unable to comprehend losses, called his homeroom teacher because 'My dad cried. What should I do?' The questions I asked my sister after Ket's passing replay in my head.

 

'What should I do next?'

 

'Which direction do I go?'

 

'How do I live?'

 

'What should I do right now?'

 

I squat down, suddenly feeling nauseous. It feels like I'm back in a square box slowly caving in. I thought it'd disappeared. A car door is slammed shut from the other side of the road. I glance at the tall man striding toward me. The faint blue aura around his body looks so warm that I wish to take hold of it.

 

Will I be able to?

Will I be able to catch it?

Ket..will I be able to catch him?

FWIP.

 

"Mr Kieng, are you okay?"

 

I grab his shirt, clutching it tightly. I've caught him. I got him. Tears stream down my face, pushing me to yank him into my arms. Ketdan says nothing to me, bawling like a child, but instead responds by touching my hair with his warm hand and gently pressing my head on his broad shoulder. His other arm is wrapped tightly around my body, as if he were volunteering to be a shelter for the man named Kingdao to express his weakness.

 

"I'm sorry. If you don't mind… Can I hug you until you let it all out?"

 

Tears blur my vision. The warm embrace of someone with flesh and blood. The beating heart in the broad chest shows this is one tangible human. I look at the other side of the road at night. There's a dark shadow of someone. It feels like my imagination, yet it's vivid in my mind.

 

"Ket."

 

I whisper the name, making the man tighten his arms around me. I'm unsure whether I'm imagining Ket standing right there. His smile is as warm as ever. The last smile I'll ever witness. Ket slowly turns around, seemingly showing gratitude from his broad back. Before another teardrop touches my cheek, Ket vanishes in a second

 

Our goodbye...

..is a beautiful beginning.

Thank you for being by Kingdao's side.

You're my best memory.

Thank you, Ket.

And...

Goodbye.