Taeng leaned back with a low whistle. "That means islands… Koh Samui, Koh Tao…"
Non's eyes lit up. "Islands? Seriously? I knew it! I told you it had to be something big."
He pressed his face to the window like a kid. "Look at that water… we're definitely going to an island."
I snorted. "Non, our boss doesn't have that much money."
Taeng turned his head and stared at me like I'd just told the world's funniest joke.
"Our boss?" he echoed dramatically. "You mean Chak, the billionaire CEO of two companies, owner of a private jet, a yacht, a house bigger than my entire childhood neighborhood— that boss?"
He smirked. "Yeah, Niran. Totally broke."
I rolled my eyes, but inside, I felt the warmth creep up my neck.
He wasn't wrong.
Non leaned closer. "If it's really an island… wow. I've never been on one before."
The moment we stepped out of the plane, warm, humid air wrapped around us like a blanket. Everyone around me gasped—Non was already taking pictures, Pim was whispering "Waaah, so pretty," and Taeng stretched his arms like he hadn't breathed real air in years.
But my eyes went straight to Anamarija.
She stood still at the bottom of the stairs, turning slowly in a full circle. Her brows were slightly pulled together, lips parted in confusion as she took in the tropical trees, the open-air airport, the bright sun.
She had no idea where we were.
Her expression was almost childlike—lost, curious, a little overwhelmed.
And I felt it immediately, that soft tug in my chest.
She really didn't expect this.
While the others chattered excitedly, Anamarija kept looking around as if waiting for a sign, a clue, anything. She didn't even notice Chak walking past her until he gently touched her elbow. She flinched slightly, then relaxed when she saw it was him.
He said something to her quietly. She nodded, but her eyes flicked around again, still searching.
Taeng leaned closer to me with a grin. "She looks like someone who woke up in the wrong country."
"Heh," I murmured. "Can't blame her. Even I didn't know we were coming here."
As we walked toward the vans waiting for us, I glanced back at her one more time.
She was still taking everything in slowly, carefully, like she was trying to memorize every detail just to make sense of it.
And I thought to myself:
Welcome to Surat Thani, Anamarija… I hope you're ready.
The drive from the airport into Surat Thani city was short, but the view outside kept everyone glued to the windows.
Non had his forehead pressed against the glass, Pim was recording everything on her phone, and Taeng was commenting on every motorcycle that zoomed past us.
As we got closer to the center, the streets grew livelier—shops packed tightly together, food stalls, colorful signs, the smell of fried dough, grilled fish, and coconut sweets drifting into the van.
That warm, chaotic, southern Thai energy.
When the vans finally stopped, the sliding doors opened and we stepped right into the heart of Surat Thani—busy streets, small markets, people moving in all directions in a rhythm that somehow worked.
Chak got out first. He looked around, assessing the area, then turned to the group with his usual calm authority.
"We meet back here in one hour. Be on time."
We all nodded, but I saw his focus shift immediately.
He leaned toward Anamarija, saying something softly to her.
Something serious… delicate.
She nodded—carefully, almost nervously.
Then the two of them turned and walked into one of the narrow streets leading toward the old part of town.
I watched them disappear between fruit stalls and small wooden houses.
Just before turning the corner, Chak looked back at me.
A short, single glance.
Give me space.
I know you will.
And I did.
"Okay, where are we going?" Amara asked, appearing beside me full of energy.
"Let's explore the city," I suggested, trying to push away that small tightness still sitting under my ribs.
"I'm in!" Pim cheered, grabbing my arm like she'd already appointed me the leader.
At that exact moment, Taeng joined us—hands in his pockets, wearing that annoyingly confident smile.
"You guys are exploring? Great. I'm coming. Someone has to make sure you don't all get lost."
Before I could answer, Non sprinted from the second van toward us.
"Wait for me! I'm coming too! I want to see EVERYTHING!"
I couldn't help but laugh.
So the five of us—Amara, Pim, Taeng, Non, and me—headed toward the lively center of Surat Thani, toward the food stalls, souvenir shops, and small temples waiting to be discovered.
We blended into the flow of the city almost immediately.
Surat Thani wasn't flashy like Bangkok or touristy like the islands—but it had a charm that pulled you in: warm, earthy, loud in a comforting way. The air smelled like stir-fried noodles, incense, and sea breeze drifting in from the river.
Our first stop was a small street temple.
Gold details shimmered in the sun, and locals stopped by to light incense and bow their heads. Amara took a moment to leave a small offering—she always had a soft spot for spiritual places.
Pim dragged Non to a stall selling tiny wooden elephants, and Non nearly bought the entire table.
Taeng walked beside me, hands behind his back, pretending he was our guide.
We tried coconut ice cream from a street cart, admired hand-carved ornaments, and squeezed between stands selling everything from fresh mangoes to fried bananas. The hour passed faster than I expected.
But even as I laughed with the others, I kept glancing toward the direction Chak and Anamarija had gone.
What were they talking about? How was she feeling? Were they okay?
When we finally returned to the meeting point, we spotted them before they saw us.
Chak and Anamarija were walking side by side, slowly, their steps relaxed.
Anamarija was talking—animatedly this time—with her hands moving as she tried to explain something to Chak.
"…and then he told me that the plant actually symbolizes balance," she said, her voice rising in excitement. "And I swear, I thought he was making it up, but the lady confirmed it! Can you believe that? It's like every corner of his apartment has a story!"
Chak listened with calm attention, nodding occasionally, a small amused smile tugging at his lips—the kind he reserved for moments that genuinely surprised him.
They looked… peaceful.
For a moment, I felt the tightness in my chest loosen.
She wasn't upset.
He wasn't tense.
Whatever conversation they'd had—it had gone well.
Taeng nudged me lightly with his elbow.
"You see? Told you they would be fine," he murmured.
I exhaled slowly, realizing I'd been holding my breath without noticing.
"Yeah… seems like it."
We stepped forward to join them, and it felt natural—like our little group had clicked back into place.
And when Chak's eyes met mine for a brief second, there was something soft in them.
It was only 9 a.m., and the city was already buzzing with life when we returned to the vans. Vendors were unpacking crates of fruit, someone was setting up a juice stall, tuk-tuk drivers were arguing loudly over parking spots.
Everything smelled like morning energy—fresh, warm, alive.
Chak was checking if everyone was here, and I watched our team cross the street with bags, souvenirs, and excited chatter.
Anamarija walked just behind Chak, still glowing from everything she'd seen.
Chak was checking his phone, making sure everyone was accounted for, when it happened.
From behind a line of fruit vendors, a little boy suddenly darted into view.
Maybe six or seven. Messy black hair, a bright dinosaur T-shirt, tiny flip-flops slapping against the pavement as he ran.
He wasn't scared.
He wasn't shy.
He had the kind of determination only children carry—like he had a mission.
And his mission was Anamarija.
He ran straight toward her, weaving between our group until he stopped right in front of her, breathing fast, cheeks pink.
"Careful—" I said, but he'd already come to a halt.
He lifted his small hand and opened his palm.
Inside it lay a tiny beaded bracelet—blue, white, and gold threads twisted together. Handmade, a little uneven, but beautiful in the way honest things are beautiful.
He held it up to her with a bright, hopeful smile.
He said something softly, in Thai, too quiet for me to catch.
Anamarija blinked and looked at Chak instinctively.
"He's saying it's for you," Chak translated gently.
Her lips parted in surprise.
She slowly knelt down so she was eye-level with him.
Her expression softened in a way I hadn't seen before—gentle, warm, maternal in a way that felt almost instinctive.
"It's beautiful…" she whispered, taking the bracelet with careful hands. "Thank you."
Then something shifted in her eyes—an impulse, tender and spontaneous.
She leaned in and hugged him.
The boy froze for a second, startled… then melted into the hug, tiny arms wrapping around her neck.
His mother rushed over, apologizing and trying to pull him back, but Chak lifted a hand politely, assuring her everything was fine.
When Anamarija pulled away, the boy beamed proudly at the bracelet now adorning her wrist.
And then—
"Wait," she said softly, as if remembering something.
She reached into her tote bag and pulled out a small packet—bright, colorful.
She held it out to him.
"These are from my country," she said softly. You'll like them."
The boy took the package like it was something magical, eyes wide with wonder, then ran back to his mother, jumping with excitement.