Chapter 7
Weeks passed quietly.
And for the first time in years, Orm finally understood what silence from Lingling truly felt like.
It was unsettling.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just… unfamiliar.
Because Orm still had everything anyone could possibly want.
Her life looked perfect from the outside.
Sean was there constantly.
Loving her openly.
Patiently.
Beautifully.
Almost every morning, he would pick her up from her apartment before work, coffee already prepared exactly how she liked it. Sometimes he brought breakfast too, insisting she skipped meals too often whenever deadlines piled up.
He took her to expensive restaurants with city skyline views.
Weekend beach trips outside Bangkok.
Movie nights where he let her choose every film even if he ended up sleeping halfway through them.
Shopping sprees whenever she casually mentioned wanting something.
Flowers every single anniversary month without fail.
Not roses every time either.
Sean remembered details.
He remembered which flowers she once absentmindedly said she liked during a random conversation months ago.
He held her hand naturally in public.
Kissed her forehead whenever stress started building between her brows during work calls.
Rubbed circles on her wrist while she worked late on blueprints in silence.
Sean loved her properly.
Softly.
Steadily.
The kind of love people spent years searching for.
The kind of love Orm used to pray for.
So why—
why did something still ache inside her sometimes?
Why did she still feel this strange emptiness creeping into her chest during the quiet parts of her day?
—
She tried not to think about it too much.
Tried convincing herself she was simply exhausted from work.
So she buried herself deeper into it.
New client presentations.
Late-night revisions.
Luxury resort concepts.
Residential tower drafts.
Meetings that stretched for hours.
Site inspections under the scorching heat.
If she stayed busy enough, maybe the quiet feeling inside her would disappear too.
Maybe exhaustion would silence it.
But it didn’t.
Because no matter how full her schedule became—
there was still one thing missing from her days now.
Lingling.
And Orm hated how obvious that absence had become.
No random phone calls in the middle of the day.
No sudden “Have you eaten yet?” texts.
No blurry pictures of stray cats Lingling found cute.
No funny videos sent at two in the morning followed by:
“This reminded me of you.”
No reminders to drive safely whenever it rained.
No “I’m outside your department.”
No “Come down. I brought you coffee.”
No Lingling.
Weeks had passed.
And Lingling hadn’t texted first even once.
At first, Orm barely noticed.
Her pride even liked it a little.
It felt easier this way.
Cleaner.
Less complicated.
But slowly—
the silence started becoming noticeable.
Then heavy.
Then impossible to ignore.
She started unconsciously checking her phone more often.
Opening their old chats without meaning to.
Reading old conversations while lying in bed beside Sean after midnight.
Lingling’s messages were everywhere.
Random.
Annoying.
Warm.
“Don’t skip lunch.”
“You looked tired today.”
“You left your charger in my car again.”
“Can you stop working for five minutes?”
“Proud of you.”
Orm didn’t even realize she was smiling while rereading them sometimes.
Until she suddenly stopped.
And remembered things were different now.
—
One evening, after finishing a client dinner, Orm sat quietly inside Sean’s car while he drove them home.
Bangkok’s city lights blurred softly outside the window.
Sean was talking about something.
A new café he wanted them to try next weekend.
Orm nodded occasionally.
Pretending she was listening.
Then Sean suddenly reached over and intertwined their fingers together.
“You’ve been distant lately,” he said gently.
Orm looked at him immediately.
“What?”
“You’re here,” Sean smiled faintly, eyes still focused on the road. “But sometimes it feels like your mind is somewhere else.”
Guilt immediately crawled into her chest.
Sean had done nothing wrong.
Absolutely nothing.
Orm forced a small smile.
“I’m just tired from work.”
Sean glanced at her briefly.
And because he loved her—
he didn’t push further.
He simply lifted her hand and kissed the back of it softly.
“Then rest more.”
Orm stared at their intertwined hands afterward.
And for some reason—
she suddenly remembered another hand.
Warm fingers grabbing her wrist while crossing busy streets.
Lingling pulling her away from incoming motorcycles while scolding her for not paying attention.
Lingling stealing fries from her plate.
Lingling laughing loudly beside her during midnight drives.
Lingling waiting outside her office for hours just because she said she was stressed.
The memories came so naturally now that it scared her.
Because Orm realized something she never noticed before.
Lingling had been woven into almost every part of her life so quietly—
that Orm never realized how much space she occupied until she disappeared from it.
—
A few days later, Orm found herself instinctively reaching for her phone during lunch break.
Her thumb already opening Lingling’s contact.
She paused.
Staring at the screen.
There were no new messages.
No missed calls.
Nothing.
The last conversation between them remained painfully short.
Dry.
Careful.
Unlike before.
Orm locked her phone immediately and placed it face down on the table.
Then forced herself to continue eating.
But the food suddenly tasted bland.
—
That night, she arrived home exhausted.
Sean had sent flowers again.
White tulips this time.
A small handwritten note attached.
“You’ve been working too hard lately. I’m proud of you.”
Orm smiled softly.
Sean really was good to her.
Too good.
She placed the flowers carefully inside a vase before walking toward her bedroom.
But as she passed her couch—
she froze.
Because for one stupid second—
one painfully stupid second—
she thought she saw Lingling sprawled there like before.
Complaining dramatically about waiting too long.
Asking what they should eat for dinner.
Demanding cuddles after a long day.
The image vanished immediately.
Leaving only silence behind.
Orm stood there for a long moment.
Motionless.
Then she slowly sat down instead.
The apartment suddenly felt bigger these days.
Quieter too.
And somehow—
lonelier.
Weeks had passed.
And Lingling still never texted first.
At first Orm barely noticed.
Then suddenly—
she noticed it all the time.
—
One evening after work, Orm laid quietly on her bed, one arm tucked beneath her head while the other lazily scrolled through Instagram.
The dim yellow light from her bedside lamp softened the silence inside her condo.
Outside, rain continued tapping gently against the glass windows, the storm from earlier still lingering across Bangkok.
Sean was in the bathroom taking a shower after they got caught in the rain on the way home from dinner.
The scent of his shampoo already drifted faintly through the room.
Everything should have felt warm.
Comfortable.
Normal.
But Orm’s mind had been restless lately in ways she didn’t want to acknowledge.
She continued scrolling mindlessly through stories until Junji’s familiar username appeared.
A dinner gathering in Khon Kaen.
The camera moved shakily across the long outdoor table filled with engineers and workers still wearing company jackets after a long day at the site. Empty beer bottles scattered everywhere. Someone was singing terribly in the background while everyone laughed.
Junji was loud as usual.
Fluke was arguing with another engineer over something ridiculous.
Workers cheered while teasing each other endlessly.
Then the camera shifted briefly—
and there, sitting quietly at the far end of the table, was Lingling.
Orm’s thumb froze against the screen.
Lingling wasn’t doing anything special.
Just sitting there with one arm resting against the chair while listening to someone speak beside her.
Her sleeves were rolled up neatly to her elbows, exposing tanned skin dusted faintly from work earlier that day.
A small smile curved on her lips while she shook her head at whatever joke Junji was making.
Relaxed.
Peaceful.
Alive in a way Orm had not seen for months.
Not during their last conversations.
Not during the days before they ended things.
Not even toward the end of their relationship when exhaustion had started replacing laughter.
Orm stared longer than necessary.
Far longer.
The story replayed automatically, and she watched it again without realizing.
Then another notification appeared.
Fluke uploaded a photo.
A candid shot from the construction site earlier that afternoon.
The caption read:
“Who wants to build a future with her?”
Orm opened it before she could stop herself.
And suddenly—
her chest tightened.
In the picture, Lingling stood beneath the harsh afternoon sunlight wearing a white hard hat and black long sleeves rolled carelessly to her elbows. Dust marked parts of her clothes. One hand held several rolled blueprints while the other pointed toward something outside the frame.
Her expression was focused.
Sharp.
Serious.
Beautiful in the most unfair way possible.
Not delicate beautiful.
Not soft beautiful.
But devastatingly handsome.
The kind that made people stare twice without meaning to.
The kind that quietly ruined people.
Orm swallowed hard.
Then her eyes shifted toward the comments underneath.
And somehow that made everything worse.
The notifications kept increasing rapidly.
Mostly women.
Some from the company.
Some familiar names Orm remembered Junji and Fluke teasing Lingling about before.
“She’s so attractive it’s unfair.”
“Engineer Kwong please build a future with me then ruin my life.”
“P’Ling choose me and make me your girl even for a day. Don't worry, I’m the one responsible for moving on from you.”
“Hard launch your girlfriend already ??”
“P’Ling please notice me just once.”
"Lingling Kwong, even if you break my heart, I still thank you. ????"
“I’d fold instantly if she looked at me like that.”
Someone even commented:
“Her future wife is probably the luckiest woman alive.”
Orm immediately locked her phone.
Too fast.
As if the screen had burned her.
She tossed it beside her on the bed before exhaling shakily, suddenly aware of how warm the room had become.
Her chest hurt.
Actually hurt.
A sharp twisting feeling she couldn’t explain.
Ugly.
Possessive.
Unreasonable.
“What is wrong with you?” she whispered under her breath.
Because why were those comments bothering her so much?
Lingling was single.
Beautiful.
Successful.
Of course women flirted with her.
They always had.
Even back then.
At their department.
At company events.
At cafés.
At grocery stores.
Everywhere.
Women always looked at Lingling.
And Lingling, most of the time, never even noticed.
Orm remembered countless moments from before.
Waitresses becoming noticeably nicer whenever Lingling spoke.
Random women asking for help they clearly didn’t need.
The interns at Lingling’s company whispering whenever she walked past.
Even Junji used to joke that Lingling could accidentally steal someone’s girlfriend just by existing.
And Orm used to laugh about it.
Because back then, Lingling always came home to her anyway.
Back then, Orm never had to wonder.
But now—
now she had no right to feel this way.
No right at all.
She pressed both hands against her face tiredly.
“You have Sean,” she reminded herself quietly.
And she did.
Sean who loved her wholeheartedly.
Sean who stayed.
Sean who never made her question where she stood in his life.
Sean who held her hand openly in public without fear.
Sean who remembered the smallest details about her.
Sean who chose her every single day without hesitation.
A good man.
A safe man.
The kind of man anyone would pray for.
So why—
why did it suddenly feel like she was losing something important anyway?
Orm stared blankly at the ceiling.
And against all logic—
all reason—
the image that lingered painfully inside her mind was not Sean beside her.
It was Lingling beneath the sunlight.
Smiling somewhere far away where Orm no longer belonged.
Unable to calm herself down, Orm slowly pushed herself off the bed.
The room felt too quiet.
Too cold.
Too empty.
Her chest had been tight ever since she got home, and no matter how many times she told herself to stop thinking about Lingling—
her mind kept crawling back to her.
Back to the way Lingling smiled at her.
Back to the way her voice still sounded like home.
Orm wiped her face roughly before walking toward the far side of her room.
Toward the cabinet she barely touched anymore.
For a long moment, she only stood there.
Staring.
As if opening it would reopen years she had spent trying to survive.
Then finally—
she crouched down and pulled out the large storage box hidden underneath.
Dust coated the corners.
Orm swallowed hard.
She had not opened this in a very long time.
Inside were fragments of another life.
A softer one.
A happier one.
Little things most people would’ve thrown away years ago.
But not Orm.
Never Orm.
Because every single thing inside this box had once belonged to them.
To her and Lingling.
Orm slowly sat on the floor beside her bed, knees pulled close as she opened the lid completely.
The familiar scent of old paper and faded perfume immediately hit her chest.
And suddenly—
it felt like Lingling was here again.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the first item.
Movie tickets.
So many of them.
Half of the ink had already faded.
Orm smiled weakly after reading one.
Their first horror movie date.
Well—
supposedly a horror movie date.
Lingling spent almost the entire film hiding behind Orm’s shoulder.
“You dragged me here,” Orm whispered back then while laughing quietly.
Lingling peeked at the screen for two seconds before immediately burying her face against Orm again.
“There’s a demon child!”
“It’s literally just a shadow.”
“She has bad intentions, Orm!”
Orm remembered teasing Lingling the entire night after that.
And afterward, Lingling refused to sleep alone and ended up occupying Orm’s condo for three straight days.
Orm laughed softly to herself.
Then the laugh slowly broke apart.
Because she remembered how safe Lingling used to feel with her.
Her fingers moved again.
Tiny keychains from beach trips.
Matching bracelets.
Train tickets.
A folded tissue with a badly drawn doodle of Orm sleeping during a flight.
At the bottom, Lingling had written:
My grumpy baby looked cute drooling.
Orm covered her mouth briefly.
God.
Lingling used to adore her so openly.
There was also a small shell inside a tiny glass bottle.
Orm immediately remembered that one too.
Phuket.
Sunset.
Lingling running barefoot along the shore while screaming because the water was “too cold,” despite literally begging to swim five minutes earlier.
Orm had been sitting on the sand laughing at her.
Then Lingling suddenly came back, dripping wet, and dropped the shell into Orm’s palm.
“Keep it.”
“What for?”
“So when we’re old, you’ll remember I was young and beautiful once.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“And gorgeous.”
Orm rolled her eyes back then.
But she still kept the shell.
For years.
Because even the smallest things Lingling gave her somehow became important.
Orm carefully placed it aside before reaching for another item.
A dark gray hoodie.
The oversized one Lingling accidentally left at her condo years ago.
Orm froze the moment she touched the fabric.
It barely smelled like Lingling anymore.
But once upon a time—
Orm used to wear this hoodie whenever Lingling went away for work.
Just because it made her sleep easier.
She remembered one rainy evening vividly.
Lingling arrived at her condo completely soaked after driving through a storm just to bring Orm her favorite strawberry cake because Orm had casually mentioned craving it.
“You could’ve gotten sick,” Orm scolded while drying Lingling’s hair aggressively with a towel.
Lingling only grinned.
“But you smiled.”
Orm remembered how Lingling then pulled her into a hug despite being freezing cold.
Remembered standing there in the kitchen while rain hammered outside the windows.
Remembered feeling unbelievably loved.
Orm closed her eyes tightly.
Then she reached deeper into the box.
Polaroids.
Hundreds of them.
Lingling loved taking photos of everything.
Orm sleeping.
Orm eating.
Orm getting annoyed.
Orm existing.
There was one photo of Orm asleep inside a café with her cheek squished against the table.
Another one where she looked genuinely furious because Lingling kept feeding stray dogs instead of helping carry shopping bags.
One polaroid made Orm stop breathing for a second.
It was taken during New Year’s.
Lingling was kissing her cheek while fireworks exploded behind them.
Orm remembered that night clearly.
Lingling had whispered against her skin:
“Promise me we’ll still find each other in every lifetime.”
Her throat burned.
She quickly set the polaroids down before they could blur from tears.
Then came the sticky notes.
Tiny colorful squares filled with Lingling’s messy handwriting.
Don’t skip breakfast.
Meeting went bad? Hug me later.
You looked pretty today. Extra pretty. Dangerous actually.
Come home soon. I miss you already.
Orm laughed shakily through tears.
Even receipts were inside the box.
Random midnight food trips.
Convenience store runs at 2 AM.
Milk tea dates.
One receipt still had a note written at the back.
Orm paid because my wallet forgot how to be useful again.
Orm shook her head.
“Hopeless,” she whispered brokenly.
Then—
her fingers suddenly stopped.
A wooden frame.
Simple.
Small.
Carefully preserved.
Inside it was a dried blue hydrangea.
Her favorite flower.
The sight alone nearly shattered her.
Lingling gave it to her years ago during her birthday.
And instantly—
the memory returned in painful clarity.
Lingling had arrived carrying an absurdly huge bouquet of blue hydrangeas.
Sneezing every five seconds.
Her eyes were red.
Her nose pink.
She looked absolutely miserable.
Orm remembered bursting into laughter immediately.
“You’re literally allergic,” Orm scolded while trying not to laugh too hard.
Lingling sniffled stubbornly while holding the bouquet tighter.
“You said hydrangeas make you happy.”
“Ling, your eyes are watery!”
“So are yours sometimes.”
“You can barely breathe!”
“But you smiled.”
Orm remembered taking the flowers from her carefully before dragging Lingling inside the condo.
Lingling kept sneezing dramatically the entire time.
At one point she even whispered weakly:
“If I die today, tell people I died romantically.”
Orm laughed so hard she nearly dropped the cake.
Then afterward—
Orm remembered kneeling in front of Lingling on the couch while searching through Lingling’s bag herself for antihistamines because Lingling forgot where she put them.
“Honestly, how are you alive?”
“Powered by love.”
“You’re powered by stupidity.”
Lingling only smiled at her softly.
Too softly.
Orm remembered brushing Lingling’s messy hair away from her forehead afterward.
Remembered how quiet Lingling became while staring at her.
Like she wanted to memorize Orm’s face forever.
And then Lingling whispered:
“Happy birthday my Ormy.”
It's the best birthday she ever had.
Not because of the party.
Not because of the expensive dinner.
Not because of the gifts.
Just because Lingling was there.
Orm’s chest caved in.
Because back then—
she never once doubted Lingling loved her.
Not even for a second.
A tear suddenly slipped down Orm’s cheek.
Then another.
Until she was sitting there on the floor, clutching the wooden frame against her chest like it could somehow hold her together.
The room remained painfully silent.
But inside Orm’s head—
Lingling’s laughter still lived everywhere.
Then she continued searching through the box absentmindedly until her fingers brushed against something else buried underneath old photographs.
A white envelope.
Still sealed.
Orm frowned slightly.
She recognized it immediately.
A year ago, Lingling accidentally dropped it while leaving Orm’s office. Orm picked it up planning to return it later—
but forgot.
And somehow it ended up here.
Untouched for an entire year.
Orm stared at the envelope quietly.
Then slowly—
carefully—
she opened it.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
The moment she recognized Lingling’s handwriting, her chest tightened painfully already.
And as she began reading—
the world around her seemed to disappear completely.
My Dearest Orm,
I don’t really know why I’m writing this.
Maybe because if I say these words out loud, I might lose you completely.
And honestly?
I think losing you is the only thing I’ve truly been afraid of these past few years.
Do you remember the first day we met?
The company lobby.
It was raining so hard outside and you were fighting with your umbrella like it personally offended you.
You looked so irritated and cute at the same time that I almost laughed before introducing myself.
I think a part of me loved you immediately after that.
Not in a dramatic movie kind of way.
Just quietly.
Softly.
Like suddenly meeting someone my heart already recognized somehow.
Then we both got accepted into the company.
And somewhere between deadlines, coffee runs, late-night revisions, and shared lunches—
you became my favorite part of every day.
People started calling us wives before I even realized how deeply attached I already was to you.
At first it was funny.
Then eventually it stopped feeling like a joke to me.
Because Orm…
what we had never felt like ordinary friendship.
Not to me.
Friends don’t hold hands absentmindedly.
Friends don’t kiss each other’s foreheads.
Friends don’t sleep beside each other during beach trips and wake up smiling first thing in the morning.
Friends don’t become someone’s home the way you became mine.
But we never talked about it.
Maybe because we were both scared.
Maybe because I was terrified that if I asked what we were, everything between us would disappear.
So instead I stayed quiet.
And honestly?
Even just loving you silently already made me happy.
You became part of every future I imagined.
Every dream somehow included you naturally.
I used to picture us building our dream house together one day.
You designing every room beautifully while I complained about the construction budget.
I used to think maybe someday we’d stop pretending not to notice the way we loved each other.
Then Sean arrived.
And suddenly I started feeling you slip away from me little by little.
Lunches disappeared.
Calls became shorter.
You smiled at your phone more.
You stopped reaching for me first.
And I knew.
Even before you said anything, I already knew.
The worst part is—
I wanted to ask you so many things.
I wanted clarity.
I wanted answers.
I wanted to ask if everything between us was real to you too.
Because honestly, Orm…
what we did wasn’t just friendship.
At least not for me.
I booked that Italian restaurant because I planned to finally tell you everything that night.
I rehearsed the confession for hours.
I was so nervous my hands were shaking while driving to your office.
Then you hugged me and told me Sean was courting you already.
And suddenly every word I wanted to say died inside me.
Funny, isn’t it?
How can someone grieve a love that never officially existed?
How do I move on from something beautiful that was never truly mine?
But despite everything—
I need you to know this too:
I'm not mad nor blaming you. You were never mine to begin with.
And maybe that’s what hurts the most.
Because I loved you so deeply without ever having the right to ask you to stay.
Sean loves you openly.
Properly.
The way you deserve.
And although it’s breaking me quietly—
I’m still happy someone is taking care of you now.
Because loving you has always meant wanting your happiness more than my own.
Even if that happiness no longer includes me.
So if someday we drift completely apart…
I hope you still remember me kindly.
Not as someone who complicated your life.
But as someone who loved you sincerely in every silent way she knew how.
Always,
Ling