The Second Chance [Kongpob/Arthit]

Chapter 22 : Aftermath

Arthit opened his eyes blearily, he was in a hospital room. The pain was unbearable, he gasped out loud, reeling from it. The nurse worried over him, he closed his eyes hoping for a brief reprieve. 

Kongpob was pacing outside the operating theatre, he was making Knott dizzy with his movements. His hand was still bruised from the altercation with P'Somchai but he had refused to be treated till he was sure his P'Arthit would be fine. A man came running towards them, Kongpob noted a familiarity in his features.

"N'Knott, how is he? How is my son?"

"Uncle, they're operating on him right now. We should know soon."

"I can't believe this is happening, my Oon - he hid everything from us - you know. I couldn't even tell his Mai."

Arthit's father was in hysterics, cursing himself for not being there for his son. Kongpob knelt next to him.

"Sir, everything will be fine. P'Arthit is very strong -"

"And who are you?"

Kongpob didn't know how to answer, his mind raced with answers, each more improbable then the other. He couldn't tell P'Arthit's father, that was something he had to do himself. He cleared his throat.

"I - I am -"

Knott stepped in the conversation, taking pity on Kongpob.

"Uncle, this is Detective Sutthilak, he saved Arthit -"

Arthit's father's response was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor. He looked curiously at the odd party waiting outside the operation theatre. 

"The patient is stable now. We will just let him rest for a while, and then you can meet him."

Arthit's father clasped his hands, bending his head. 

"Thank you for saving my son, doctor."

Kongpob's eyes prickled, a rush of relief coursed through him. The constricting palpitations in his heart at the thought of losing his P'Arthit, slowly bid him farewell. 

"By the way, which one of you is Kong? He kept asking for you."

Arthit's father's face was contemplative as Knott's eyes turned to Kongpob. Kongpob gulped under the scrutiny. Knott, always handy at breaking awkward situations, helped Arthit's father into a seat.

"Let me fetch you some tea, Uncle."

"P'Knott, I'll do it -"

"Kong -"

Arthit's father beckoned Knott closer, he whispered in his ear. 

"Let him go, N'Knott. I want to speak to you."

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Knott waited for Arthit's father to speak, he was currently wiping at his eyes. Knott looked away, giving him some privacy. 

"That boy is always giving us a headache, always complaining like a child - but when he needed us the most, he kept quiet. If the hospital hadn't contacted me, I would never know my child -"

He broke off, unable to continue. Knott's dark eyes were compassionate, with his father being sick for the majority of his last two years in university, Arthit's father had taken him under his wing. He couldn't bear to see him this way.

"Uncle, Ai'Arthit has always been like that. He never wants to inconvenience anyone -"

They sat in companionable silence, unified by their worry for Arthit. After a moment, Arthit's father cleared his throat.