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The air inside the Bangkok Commercial Bank was usually thick with the scent of high-end air freshener and the rhythmic clicking of keyboards.
For Nunew, it was a peaceful Tuesday morning at the customer service counter.
He liked his job.
He liked helping elderly patrons navigate their savings accounts and offering a warm, soft-spoken smile to nervous first-time homeowners.
"Everything looks perfect with your application, Mrs. Sawat," Nunew said, his voice like velvet. He tucked a stray lock of black hair behind his ear.
His Omega scent, a faint, calming trace of vanilla and jasmine hovering pleasantly around his desk.
Then, the world shattered.
The heavy glass doors didn't just open. They exploded inward.
The sound was a deafening crack that felt like a physical blow to the chest.
Two security guards, men Nunew had shared coffee with just an hour prior, didn't even have time to reach for their holsters before the muffled ‘bang’ of suppressed gunfire sent them sprawling to the polished marble floor.
It was a chaos.
Screams, cries.
"Nobody moves! Hands behind your head and kneel!" a voice bellowed, distorted by a ballistic mask.
Eight men, dressed in tactical gear that looked far too professional for common street thugs, flooded the lobby.
They moved with a terrifying, synchronized efficiency, wielding a terrifying array of weaponry, compact submachine guns, long-barreled rifles and sidearm tucked into thigh holsters.
They didn't just want the money. They knew the vault's bypass codes, the timing of the silent alarms and the layout of the security feeds.
Shit. This is not a normal robbery, Nunew thought.
His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Nunew didn't scream or cry. His throat was too tight for that, but his hands began to shake uncontrollably.
"You! Pretty boy!"
Before Nunew could blink, a gloved hand gripped the collar of his dress shirt, yanking him over the counter.
He stumbled, his knees hitting the floor before he was hauled up.
A cold, metallic circle, the barrel of a handgun, pressed firmly against his temple.
"You're my ticket out of here," the robber hissed.
Outside, the perimeter was a sea of flashing red and blue.
But when the reports of the sophisticated weaponry and the calculated execution of the guards reached the precinct, the local police stepped back.
This wasn't a robbery. It was a siege.
The black armored van of the Special Military Task Force screeched to a halt. The doors swinging open before the vehicle had even fully stopped.
Zee stepped out.
The sun glinting off the ‘LEADER’ patch on his tactical vest.
At thirty-one, Zee was a man carved from granite.
His eyes were sharp, cold and devoid of fear.
He didn't speak much. His presence alone commanded a silence that was more effective than any shout.
"Status," Zee clipped out, checking the chamber of his rifle.
"Eight hostiles. High-grade gear. They’ve got twelve hostages. One young man in his twenties is being used as a primary shield at the front entrance," the tactical lead reported.
Zee looked through the high-powered binoculars.
His breath hitched. A rare, infinitesimal crack in his professional armor.
Through the glass, he saw a young man. He looked small, fragile and hauntingly beautiful even in the throes of terror as the gun kissed the side of his head.
The Omega wasn't wailing. He was standing deathly still, though Zee could see the frantic vibration of his shoulders.
"We go in through the ventilation and the service elevator simultaneously," Zee ordered, his voice dropping an octave into a low, dangerous growl.
"Flashbangs on my mark. I want the hostage in the center. The one in the white shirt, secured first. They put gun on his head. He’s the priority."
The next minutes were a blur of sensory overload.
As the robbers busy discussing and collecting the money, a sudden, blinding light filled the lobby, followed by a series of concussive ‘bangs’ that felt like they were rattling Nunew’s teeth loose.
The man holding him swore, his grip loosening for a split second as he reached up to shield his eyes.
That was all the window Zee needed.
Zee moved like a shadow given form.
He breached the front line.
His movements a deadly dance of precision. He didn't fire wildly.
He took two shots, dropping the man holding Nunew before the criminal could even pull the trigger.
As the robber slumped away, Nunew felt the sudden lack of support. His legs, which had been holding him up through sheer adrenaline, finally turned to water.
He began to fall, the world spinning in dizzying circles of gray and black.
He didn't hit the floor.
Strong, steady arms caught him mid-air.
A chest as solid as a mountain pressed against his back, providing a sudden, overwhelming sense of safety.
"I've got you," a deep, gravelly voice whispered near his ear. "You're safe. Look at me. Stay with me."
Nunew looked up, his vision swimming. He saw a face. Sharp jawline, intense eyes that were no longer cold, but burning with an urgent, protective fire.
This man looked like a god of war. Covered in soot and tactical gear, yet his touch was incredibly gentle.
"Are... are you..." Nunew tried to speak, but his breath hitched. The scent of the man, sandalwood, gunpowder and something intensely Alpha, hit him, grounding his spiraling senses.
"I'm Zee. I'm here to keep you safe," the soldier said, his hand coming up to cup Nunew’s cheek. His thumb brushing away a stray tear Nunew hadn't even realized had fallen.
Nunew tried to nod, tried to thank him, but the sheer weight of the trauma finally broke the dam.
His eyes rolled back and he collapsed completely into Zee’s arms. His head lulling against the Alpha’s shoulder.
Zee didn't hand him off to the paramedics right away.
He carried the Omega out of the building himself, shielded from the cameras and the chaos by his own body.
His heart doing something it hadn't done in eleven years of service.
It beat for someone else.
Zee was not a man of half-measures.
Few hours after the bank incident, he appeared at the hospital where Nunew was being monitored for shock.
He wasn't in uniform.
He wore a simple black sweater and jeans, but he still looked like he could dismantle a room in seconds.
He carried a bouquet of yellow roses and a small container of homemade porridge.
"Commander?" Nunew asked, sitting up in his bed, his eyes widening.
"Just Zee," the Alpha corrected. Sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair by the bed.
He looked out of place in the sterile room, too big and too vital for the quiet space. "I wanted to see for myself that you were recovering. You were very brave back then."
Nunew blushed, a soft pink dusting his pale cheeks. "Brave? I was shaking the whole time."
"Courage isn't the absence of fear," Zee said softly, reaching out to set the flowers down. "You didn’t scream. You didn’t panic. You didn't give them the satisfaction of your tears. I noticed."
They talked for hours.
Nunew found that beneath the cold, professional exterior of the ‘War Machine’ as the papers called him, Zee was a man of profound depth.
He was a good guy in every sense.
Respectful of Nunew’s boundaries, attentive to his every word and possessed a dry, unexpected wit that made Nunew giggle for the first time since the robbery.
The dating phase was a whirlwind of protective gestures and old-school romance.
If Zee have no work, he would wait for Nunew after his shifts at the bank. Nunew had moved to a back-office role, which Zee quietly encouraged.
Zee would bring him umbrellas when it rained, leave handwritten notes on his doorstep and listen, really listen to Nunew’s daily life update.
It was also a dance of intense devotion shadowed by the unpredictable nature of Zee’s career.
Because Zee was the lead of a high-stakes tactical unit, his phone was a tether that could pull him away at any moment, often in the middle of their most cherished milestones.
One evening, they were sitting in a quiet, dimly lit bistro for Nunew’s twenty-fourth birthday.
Zee had just leaned across the table.
His eyes soft as he watched Nunew happily talking about a nice trip that they could plan someday, when the heavy vibration of Zee’s work phone rattled against the wood.
Zee’s expression shifted instantly as he answer it.
A brief flash of professional coldness before he looked at Nunew with pure, unadulterated guilt.
"Nhu... I am so sorry," Zee whispered, his voice tight. "There’s an emergency at the border. My team is already moving. I have to go..."
Nunew’s smile faltered. Just for a second, but he nodded bravely. "I understand, Hia. Go. Be safe."
Zee didn't just leave.
He stood up, walked around the table and knelt beside Nunew’s chair regardless of who was watching.
He took Nunew’s hand, pressing a lingering, fervent kiss to his knuckles. "I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Every second I’m away, I’ll be thinking of how to fix this."
Nunew smiled and nod.
And Zee was a man of his word.
Five days later, when he returned from the base, he didn't go home to sleep.
Instead, he showed up at Nunew’s apartment at 7:00 AM, looking exhausted with dark circles under his eyes, but carrying a bouquet of pink hydrangeas and sunflowers so large it nearly obscured his face.
In his other hand was a stack of pink boxes from the most expensive patisserie in Bangkok.
"Hia! You look like you haven't slept! Come in!" Nunew exclaimed, pulling him inside.
"I couldn't sleep until I apologized properly," Zee rasped.
He sat Nunew down on the sofa and began laying out the peace offerings.
Delicate macaroons, a rich strawberry shortcake and the specific honey-glazed donuts Nunew craved weeks ago.
Zee took Nunew’s hands back into his own, kissing the palms, the fingers and the wrists. "I am so sorry for leaving you at dinner. I’m sorry I wasn't there when the clock struck midnight for your birthday. Please don't be mad at me, please? I’ll do anything to gain your forgiveness."
Nunew giggled.
His heart melting at the sight of this formidable, strong Alpha practically pouting for forgiveness. "Hia, I was never mad. I know your job is important. I understand. Really."
"It’s not more important than you," Zee insisted, leaning in to press his forehead against Nunew's.
He watched with immense satisfaction as Nunew took a big, happy bite of a macaroon, his cheeks puffing out like a squirrel.
Zee was never once the cause of a tear or a harsh word.
He was meticulously careful with Nunew’s heart, treating the Omega’s feelings like the most fragile glass in the world.
If he was ten minutes late, he arrived with a single rose.
If he had to cancel a weekend trip, he booked a better one for the following month.
He treated every ‘emergency’ as a debt he had to repay with interest in the form of affection and sweets.
Exactly one year after their dating phase, Zee took Nunew back to the park near the waterfront.
He didn't give a grand speech.
He simply knelt, pulled out a ring that shone like a star and looked at Nunew with eyes that promised a lifetime of safety.
"Nhu... I love you and I don’t want to waste any second of my life. I want to call you mine officially. Will you marry me?"
Cries and laughter of happiness filled the scene as Nunew agree.
The wedding was small, intimate with both families and close friends filled with the scent of flowers.
Three years into their marriage, the house was filled with the scent of vanilla and the steady, grounding presence of an Alpha who had made his home a sanctuary.
But one Saturday morning, the routine was broken.
Zee was in the kitchen, meticulously brewing the specific blend of tea Nunew loved, when he heard a small, choked gasp from the hallway.
He dropped the tea strainer. His tactical instincts flaring and rushed toward the bathroom.
"Nhu? Baby, what's wrong?"
He found Nunew standing by the sink, his face pale and his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and overwhelming.
In his trembling hand, he held a small plastic stick.
Zee’s breath hitched.
He moved slowly, as if approaching a beautiful, fleeting dream. He looked down at the stick.
Two clear, unmistakable pink lines stared back at him.
Zee felt his knees turn to water.
A single, hot tear escaped his eye, followed quickly by another.
He let out a sob that sounded like a prayer. Raw, jagged and filled with three years of hope.
"Is it—Is this real?" Zee whispered, his voice cracking. "Nhu... we’re... I’m going to be a father?"
Nunew nodded, tears streaming down his own face. "Yes, Hia. We're having a baby."
Zee didn't just hug him.
He collapsed to his knees in front of Nunew, wrapping his massive arms around Nunew's waist and burying his face against his stomach.
He wept openly, his broad shoulders shaking with the force of his emotion.
He pressed his lips to the fabric of Nunew's shirt, right over his womb, murmuring gratefulness and broken promises.
"Thank you, Nhu… Thank you for carrying our child," Zee sobbed into Nunew’s skin. "I'll protect both of you. I'll be the best father. I promise, I’ll never let anything hurt you. My little one... you're finally here."
He stayed there for a long time, holding onto Nunew as if he were the only solid thing in a shifting world.
When he finally looked up, his eyes were red and swollen, but they burned with a new, fierce light.
He stood and lifted Nunew off the floor, spinning him around the small bathroom while kissing every inch of his face.
"I love you," Zee breathed between kisses, his voice thick with wonder. "I love you so much, Nhu, my love. Thank you. Thank you for choosing me."
For three months, that joy was their entire world.
Zee became a man possessed by domestic duty.
He baby-proofed the house before the fetus was even the size of a bean.
All the preparation for the delivery all prepared.
He spent hours every night rubbing expensive oils into Nunew's skin and reading pregnancy books aloud, his deep voice vibrating against Nunew’s side as they drifted off to sleep.
Zee was a ‘green flag’ husband that turned into a neon lighthouse. Steady, bright and completely devoted.
Which made the eventual call to duty feel not just like a task, but like a betrayal of the very soul he had finally found.
The mahogany-rowed office of General Thanit felt like a tomb.
Zee stood at rigid attention, but his heart was thundering against his ribs.
On the desk lay the deployment orders.
A black folder that represented six months of silence, six months of danger and most agonizingly the final six months of Nunew’s pregnancy.
"Sir, with all due respect, I cannot take this assignment," Zee said, his voice unusually strained. "My Omega is thirteen weeks pregnant. Third month. This is our first child. I’ve given fifteen years to this unit, but I am just requesting a deferment now. I need to be home for my husband.."
The General sighed, leaning back. "Commander, look at the roster. Major Chen is still recovering from lung surgery. Captain Time is stateside. If you don’t lead this mission, the tactical oversight falls to a junior officer. This isn't a routine patrol. It’s a high-level insurgency. Without your lead, the casualty rate for your team. For Max, for Net, for the boys you trained, will jump by 40%."
Zee felt the air leave his lungs.
It was a calculated strike.
The General knew that Zee treasure his men like brothers.
"I... I can't," Zee whispered, his professional mask cracking. He stepped forward, his hands gripping the edge of the desk. "General, I’m begging you. Don't do this. I promised him. I promised my husband I wouldn't leave his side. He’s fragile, he’s sensitive... he needs me. Please. Send anyone else. Demote me if you have to, just let me stay."
"The mission ends two weeks before the due date, Commander. That is the best I can do," the General said firmly. "Your team is waiting for your briefing. Don't let them down."
The drive home was a blur.
Zee pulled into the driveway of their huge sun-drenched house and sat in the car for twenty minutes, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.
How could he look at Nunew?
How could he tell the man who was currently glowing with the miracle of their child, that he was leaving him for half a year?
When he opened the front door, the scent of home hit him.
Vanilla, warm jasmine and the savory aroma of the Tom Yum Nunew had been simmering all afternoon. All the emotion hit him.
"Hia?" Nunew’s voice drifted from the kitchen, sweet and light.
Zee didn't answer.
He walked into the kitchen. His boots heavy on the hardwood.
Nunew turned around, a wooden spoon in his hand and a smudge of flour on his cheek.
One look at Zee’s face and the spoon clattered to the floor.
"Hia... what's wrong? You’re pale. Are you hurt? Did something happen at the base?" Nunew asked, rushing to him.
Zee didn't say a word.
He simply collapsed.
He dropped to his knees right there on the kitchen tile, wrapping his arms around Nunew’s waist and burying his face in the soft fabric of Nunew’s shirt.
A broken, jagged sob tore from his throat. A sound of pure, unadulterated grief.
"I have to go, Nu," Zee choked out, his tears soaking into Nunew’s clothes. "Six months. They’re sending me to the border. I tried... I begged them, I told them about the baby, you... but if I don't go, the rest of the team... they won't make it back. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry."
Zee’s large hands moved to Nunew’s stomach, trembling as he pressed his palms flat against the small bump. "I’m failing you. I’m failing our baby. I’m supposed to be here to rub your back, to cook for you, to hear the first kick. I promise you thousand of things, Nhu… I’m supposed to be with you for the following months and instead, I’m leaving you alone..."
Nunew felt a cold wave of shock wash over him.
But as he looked down at the strongest man he knew, now reduced to a weeping wreck at his feet, his own fear took a backseat.
This was the man who had saved him from a bank robbery, the man who bought him flowers every time he was ten minutes late, the man who had wept with joy at those two pink lines.
Nunew sank to the floor, sitting cross-legged so he could pull Zee’s head into his lap. He cradled Zee’s face, rocking him gently.
"Hia, look at me," Nunew whispered, wiping the hot tears from Zee’s cheeks with his thumbs. "Look at your husband."
Zee looked up, his eyes bloodshot and filled with self-loathing. "I'm a terrible husband. I'm breaking my promise. I promised you so much things, Nhu..."
"No," Nunew said, his voice remarkably steady despite the ache in his chest. "You didn’t break it, Hia. You aren't leaving because you want to. You're leaving because you’re a good man who won't left your responsibilities behind. That is the kind of father I want for our child. A man of honor."
"But six months..." Zee sobbed, clutching Nunew’s hands and kissing them frantically. "You'll be so big by then. You'll be tired. Your body will be sore. Who will take care of you?"
"I have our parents and I have your heart right here with me," Nunew smiled sadly, taking Zee’s hand and placing it back on his stomach. "The baby and I... we will wait for you. Every single day. We will count the sunsets. You just promise me one thing, Hia."
Zee sniffled, nodding eagerly. "Anything. I'll give you everything."
"Come back," Nunew said, his voice finally breaking into a small sob. "Just come back safe. The moment you finish the task, I want you at that gate. I don't care about medals or glory. I just want my husband. Every fresh scratches or anything broken on your body, you have to pay with a kiss."
Zee's trembling and teary eyes stare deeply in his eyes.
He then pulled Nunew into a crushing embrace.
The two of them rocking back and forth on the kitchen floor amidst the scent of a dinner that would go cold. "I will come back. I will fight everything there to get back to you. I promise you, Nhu. I promise."
That night, Zee didn't sleep.
He stayed awake, watching Nunew sleep.
His hand never leaving the swell of Nunew’s stomach. Trying to memorize the rhythm of his breathing to carry into the dark months ahead.
Deep in the thick, humid forest of the border, Zee was slowly breaking inside.
For Zee, the six months were not just about the mission. They were six months of missing the man who anchored his soul.
While he stayed strong for his men, he spent his nights in a small, damp tent, obsessively checking the calendar he kept in his vest.
Each day he crossed off felt like a win, but the sadness grew as he realized all the things he was missing. The nights Nunew couldn't sleep comfortably and the quiet moments he should have been there to rub Nunew’s back.
By the fourth month, the pain of being away was at its worst.
One night, Zee stepped away from the noise of the camp to look at the dark sky. The stars were bright, just like the ones he used to watch with Nunew on their balcony.
He reached into his pocket and touched the polaroid photo of their wedding day.
He remembered a night right after they got married when he held a sleepy Nunew and made a promise. He told Nunew that whenever he was far away, he would look for the brightest star and imagine it was Nunew’s eyes watching over him.
"I see you, Nhu," he whispered to the sky. "Just a little longer. I'm coming home".
The morning air at the Royal Thai Military Base was unseasonably thick, the humidity clinging to the skin like a damp shroud.
For Nunew, every breath felt like a labor.
He stood near the iron gates, his hands reflexively cradling the heavy, low swell of his stomach.
He was thirty-eight weeks pregnant. Just two weeks away from his due date.
His back ached and his ankles were swollen, but he refused the folding chair his father-in-law had brought.
"Nhu, please sit down. You've been standing for an hour," his mother whispered, her eyes full of worry as she adjusted the silk shawl around Nunew’s shoulders.
"I can't, Ma," Nunew replied, his voice soft but strained. "If I sit, I might miss the moment the gates open. I want Hia to see me first. I want the baby to feel him the second he steps off that truck."
Beside them, Zee’s parents stood in a stoic, shared silence. Nervous and excited.
Zee’s father, a retired colonel, held his wife’s hand so tightly his knuckles were white.
Around them, dozens of other families gathered. Wives clutching toddlers, aging parents holding banners and younger siblings vibrating with excitement.
The atmosphere was a fragile bubble of hope, ready to burst into joy.
The heavy sound of grinding gears signaled the opening of the main gates.
Three large military transport trucks rumbled into the courtyard. The crowd surged forward, a collective gasp echoing through the tarmac.
"There they are!" someone screamed.
The tailgates dropped.
Men began to climb down. Soldiers covered in the dust of a six-month hell.
Some were limping, their arms in slings. Others had thick white bandages wrapped around their heads, stained with the yellow of antiseptic and the faded brown of old blood.
But they were smiling. They were weeping. They were alive.
Nunew’s heart began to thump with a rhythmic, painful intensity.
He watched Max climb down, his face scarred and his gait uneven. He saw Tutor and Net, two of Zee’s youngest team members, leaning on each other for support.
One by one, the men reunited with their families.
The air was filled with the sounds of sobbing, laughter and the frantic “I missed you” of a hundred reunited souls.
Nunew scanned the crowd.
His eyes darted from face to face, searching for the towering, broad-shouldered silhouette that haunted his dreams.
He looked for the sharp jawline, the serious brow and the eyes that only ever softened for him.
The first truck emptied. Then the second.
"Where is he?" Nunew whispered, his hand tightening on his stomach as a sharp Braxton Hicks contraction turned his abdomen rock-hard. "Khun Mae, where is Hia? Why isn't he jumping down? He’s the lead... he should be the first one out." asked him as Zee’s mother stepped forward, holding Nunew’s left hand while her eyes scanning the crowds too.
Zee’s father took a deep breath. Sensing something.
The third truck emptied its last passenger.
It was the medic, carrying a crate of gear.
The laughter around them began to fade into a hollow ringing in Nunew's ears.
The courtyard became deathly quiet as a group of high-ranking officers, led by the Director of the Special Operations Command, emerged from the headquarters building.
They weren't walking toward the celebration.
They were walking toward the corner where Nunew and Zee's parents stood.
Behind them, the members of Zee’s unit, Max, Mark, Tutor, Net and the others approached.
They didn't run to their families.
They walked with their heads bowed, their helmets tucked under their arms.
When they reached Nunew, they didn't speak.
In one synchronized, soul-crushing movement, they dropped to their knees, bowing their heads until their foreheads touched the hot gravel of the base.
"No," Nunew breathed, the word barely a ghost of a sound. "No, no, no, no..." tears already fall onto his cheeks.
The Director stopped three feet away. His face was a mask of professional grief.
He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out two cream-colored envelope, sealed with the official wax of the military.
"Mr. Chawarin," the Director said, his voice cracking despite his training. "On behalf of the King and the Country... I have no words that can bridge the gap of this loss. Commander Pruk Panich was lost in the final extraction phase of the operation. He… sacrificed himself to ensure the success of the mission and the safety of his men. He is a man of the highest order."
He extended two letters. “This is the letters he wrote before the battle.”
One written Mr. Chawarin Panich.
The other written Mr. & Mrs. Panich and Mr. & Mrs. Perdpiriyawong.
Nunew’s hands were shaking so violently he couldn't take it.
His knees buckled.
The weight of his body and the life within him becoming too much for the world to support. Zee’s mother caught him, her own wails beginning to pierce the air, a raw, primal sound of a mother losing her only son.
"Open it," Nunew gasped, his vision blurring into a sea of gray. "Read it... please, Khun Mae... read it for me."
With trembling fingers, Zee’s mother broke the seal. The paper was crinkled, as if it had been held tightly in a pocket for months.
It smelled faintly. So faintly of Zee’s sandalwood cologne.
She began to read, her voice shaking.
My dearest husband, Nhu, my heart, my life.
If you are reading this, it means I broke the promise I never intended to break. I am not there to hold your hand. I am not there to see the face of our child.
Please, my love, do not hate me for leaving. And don’t blame anyone. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw your smile. Every time I felt like giving up, I remembered the you and our unborn baby.
Take care of our little one. Tell our baby, Papa loved you before I even knew your gender and name. You are the bravest person I have ever known, Nhu. Live for me. Smile for me. I will be waiting for you in our next life.
Forever yours, Hia.
The letter slipped from her fingers, fluttering onto the dirt as Zee’s mother sob harder.
“Oh…” Nunew sobbed, his right habd clutching onto his heart that was ripped apart.
"It's my fault. I’m so sorry, Khun Mae, Khun Phor…” the sob getting louder as his voice a broken wreck.
Nunew collapsed onto the ground, his forehead resting against the cold gravel, right where Zee’s teammates were still bowing.
"I should have stopped him. He didn't want to go... I saw him cry. He told me how he beg the General to not leaving me. Why—Why didn't I hold onto his legs? Why did I let him go?"
"Nhu, breathe! Think of the baby!" the mothers cried, trying to lift him.
But Nunew was inconsolable. “I wasn't selfish enough to keep him stay…”
He gripped his stomach, the physical pain of the contractions finally merging with the agony of his heart. "Hia... I'm so sorry… please… He never lost... Why this time… God lord...” Nunew’s grief alongside the hiccups in every word bring the silence to the crowds.
The other families watched in a stunned, mournful silence.
The joy of their own reunions eclipsed by the sight of the fragile, pregnant and broken Omega grieving his Alpha in the dust.
The soldiers remained on the ground, their shoulders shaking with silent sobs, refusing to rise while their Commander’s family drowned in grief.
The Director bowed his head, the weight of the victory feeling like a crushing defeat.
As Nunew felt the first true surge of labor pains ripple through his body, he looked up at the empty gates one last time.
There was no Zee. Only the wind and the faint, haunting scent of jasmine on the breeze.
As the weight of the letter and the truth settled into his bones, Nunew’s body simply gave up.
The combination of the intense labor contractions, the crushing grief and the physical exhaustion of the final weeks of pregnancy caused his world to tilt on its axis.
"Nhu? Nunew!" his mother screamed as his eyes rolled back, his head lalling against her shoulder.
"Medic! We need a medic here now!" Max roared, leaping up from the gravel, his own grief momentarily sidelined by the sight of their Commander’s Omega collapsing.
The base erupted into a different kind of chaos.
The joyful reunions of other families paused in shock as a specialized medical team, already on standby for the returning troops, rushed forward with a gurney.
Nunew was pale. His breathing shallow. His hands still deathly tight around the letter Zee had written.
As they lifted him, the Director stood frozen, the heavy guilt of the mission etched into the lines of his face.
Four days later, the atmosphere in Bangkok was somber.
The state had declared a day of mourning for the elite team’s fallen leader.
The funeral was not a private affair. It was a grand, military ceremony held at a prestigious royal temple, reflecting Zee’s high-level status within the Special Military Force.
The procedures were rigid and steeped in tradition.
A catafalque stood at the center, draped in the national flag, surrounded by mountains of white roses and jasmine.
The air was thick with the scent of incense and the low, rhythmic chanting of monks.
Elite guards in full ceremonial regalia stood at each corner of the coffin. Their swords drawn and pointed toward the earth in a silent vigil.
Nunew sat in the front row. A black silk wrap draped over his massive, aching stomach.
He looked like a ghost of the man he once was. His skin was translucent and his eyes were sunken from days of sleeplessness.
To the shock of the public, the King himself arrived to pay his respects.
The temple fell into a profound hush as the monarch approached the grieving Omega.
"I heard that Commander Pruk was the shield of this nation," the King said softly, his hand resting briefly on Nunew’s shoulder in a rare gesture of personal support. "His sacrifice ensured the safety of thousands. This child you carry... they are the child of a lion. The Crown will ensure you are never without protection."
Nunew didn't cry.
He looked up and gave the King a small, trembling smile, bowing down. A smile that didn't reach his eyes, which remained hollow and glass-like.
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
Throughout the long hours of the ceremony, his parents and Zee’s parents stood like a human fortress around him.
They watched his every breath, terrified that the stress would trigger a full collapse or an early delivery.
Every time Nunew shifted in his seat or winced from a contraction, four hands would reach out to steady him. He moved like he was made of thin glass, floating through the motions of the funeral rituals
The pouring of the ceremonial water, the offering of robes to the monks, as if he were already half-way into the next world with Zee.
That night, the house felt cavernous.
The nursery, once a place of excitement, was now a silent reminder of a future that had been stolen.
Nunew’s mother stayed in the master bedroom, sleeping on Nunew's side of the king-sized bed to keep a close watch on her pregnant son.
At 3:00 AM, the room was silent save for the soft hum of the air conditioner.
Nunew lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
His stomach was hard, the baby moving with a restless, frantic energy, as if sensing the absence of the large, warm hand that used to soothe them both.
Slowly, painfully, Nunew rolled onto his side and pushed himself up.
He moved to the large floor-to-ceiling window, sliding it open just enough to let the biting chill of the midnight breeze hit his face.
The cold felt good. It felt real against the numbness of his soul.
He stood there for a long time, his white nightshirt fluttering, staring out at the vast, indigo sky of Bangkok.
"Nhu?"
His mother’s voice was soft, filled with immediate alertness.
She walked over, wrapping her arms around him from behind. She felt the tension in his spine and the tightness of his bloated, hard stomach.
She began to rub his belly in the exact slow, circular motion, just like Zee had perfected over three months, which he learnt from their mothers.
"I can't sleep, Ma," Nunew whispered, his voice sounding like dry leaves. "I just need to see the stars. Hia always told me that no matter where he was in the forest, we were looking at the same sky."
Nunew leaned back into his mother’s embrace, his gaze fixed upward.
Suddenly, a single, hot tear escaped, tracing a slow path down his cheek.
Then another.
The dam he had kept built all day finally cracked.
He raised a trembling hand, pointing a finger toward a single, brilliant light hanging high above the city’s horizon.
"That brightest star... that's him, right, Ma?" Nunew’s voice broke, a small, sob-like sound escaping him. "It’s so bright. It’s guarding the others. It must be Hia. He must be watching me. He must miss me so much... he’s probably so worried that I’m standing here in the cold without him."
His mother’s lips trembled.
Her own tears soaking into the back of Nunew’s shirt. She rested her chin on his shoulder, looking at the star that burned with a fierce, unwavering light.
"Of course, baby," she choked out, squeezing him gently. "He’s right there. He missed you every second he was away and he’s not going to stop watching over you now. He’s just waiting for the moment he can see his baby’s face through your eyes."
Nunew leaned his head back, closing his eyes as the tears fell freely now, a silent rain of grief and love.
"I'll tell the baby about him every day, Ma. I'll tell them their Papa was the man who caught me when I fell, the man who bought me flowers and sweets when he was late and the man who became a star just to make sure we could always find our way home."
The breeze picked up, carrying the faint, impossible scent of sandalwood and gunpowder through the window.
For a fleeting second, Nunew felt a phantom warmth wrap around his waist. A familiar, protective weight.
He clutched his stomach and looked back at the star, a heartbreakingly beautiful smile finally touching his lips.
"I love you, Hia," he whispered to the night. "Wait for us. We'll be okay."
In the silence of the room, the baby gave a strong, sudden kick against Nunew’s palm.
A tiny, defiant pulse of life, the final legacy of a man who loved too much to ever truly leave.
THE END