Chapter 12
Inside Lingling’s apartment, the lights remained low and warm, casting soft golden shadows across the quiet space.
Outside, the city was still awake somewhere beyond the windows.
But inside—
everything felt painfully still.
Lingling carefully guided Orm toward the bedroom, one hand securely around her waist while the other held her trembling hand.
Orm stumbled slightly, her heels scraping softly against the floor before Lingling steadied her immediately.
“Careful,” Lingling whispered instinctively.
Orm only looked at her again.
Quiet.
Drunk.
Beautiful beyond reason.
And God—
that look in her eyes nearly ruined Lingling instantly.
Because it wasn’t the distant, guarded Orm she had been trying to survive these past months.
It was the old Orm.
The one who used to look at Lingling like she was home.
Lingling swallowed the ache in her throat before helping her sit gently on the edge of the bed.
“You okay?”
Orm blinked slowly.
Her cheeks were flushed from alcohol.
From crying earlier im the morning.
From everything neither of them wanted to talk about.
Lingling crouched in front of her carefully and reached for her heels.
“I’ll remove your shoes first.”
But the moment her fingers touched the strap—
Orm suddenly grabbed her wrist.
Lingling froze immediately.
The room became unbearably silent.
Orm looked down at her with glossy eyes, lips slightly parted, breathing uneven.
And for one terrifying second—
Lingling’s heart forgot how to function.
Because Orm was staring at her the same way she used to years ago.
Softly.
Lovingly.
Like Lingling still meant everything.
“Why do you have to look so beautifully handsome,” Orm whispered drunkenly, her voice fragile and slurred at the edges, “that you keep pulling beautiful women toward you?”
Lingling stared at her speechlessly.
Orm moved closer slowly, fingers still wrapped around her wrist.
“Are you happy now, Lingling Kwong?”
A weak smile appeared on Orm’s lips.
But it looked painful.
“So many women wanting your attention.”
Her voice cracked afterward.
“Do you love them all?”
Lingling felt her chest tighten painfully.
Then Orm whispered softly—
“What about me?”
The question shattered something inside Lingling instantly.
Because Orm had no idea.
No idea how badly Lingling had tried to move on from her.
No idea how many nights she forced herself not to call.
How many mornings she woke up still reaching for someone who no longer belonged to her.
“Orm…” Lingling whispered carefully.
But Orm’s eyes were already filling with tears.
“I’m here, Ling.”
The nickname nearly destroyed her.
Ling.
Nobody called her that anymore.
Not after Orm.
Not after losing her.
“I’m here now.”
Lingling closed her eyes briefly, trying to breathe through the pain clawing its way into her chest.
“Orm,” she whispered softly while brushing hair away from her face, “lay down first, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow.”
But suddenly Orm stood too quickly.
And before Lingling could react—
Orm wrapped both arms around her neck tightly.
Clinging.
Desperate.
Like she was afraid Lingling would disappear if she loosened her grip even slightly.
Lingling immediately held her waist to steady her.
“Orm—”
Then Orm kissed her.
Everything stopped.
Lingling froze completely.
Her mind.
Her heartbeat.
Her breathing.
Everything.
Because this was Orm.
Orm.
The girl she spent years loving silently.
The girl she lost before she ever truly had her.
The girl she kept choosing even when it destroyed her quietly.
And now Orm was kissing her like she was starving for her.
Like she missed her too much.
Lingling pulled away quickly, breathing unevenly.
“Orm, stop.”
Her voice sounded weak.
Shaky.
“You have a boyfriend.”
Orm stared at her, eyes glistening under the dim light.
“You don’t want me anymore?”
Lingling physically felt her heart break hearing that.
“Orm…”
“Is it because you have plenty of pretty women around you now?”
Tears rolled freely down Orm’s cheeks.
“Did you already forget about me?”
Her voice cracked completely afterward.
“You don’t love me anymore?”
Lingling stared at her in disbelief.
Because those words felt unbearably cruel after everything she had buried inside herself.
After all the years she kept loving Orm quietly from afar.
After every attempt to let her go.
“You don’t get to ask me that,” Lingling whispered painfully.
Orm looked at her helplessly.
And suddenly—
small.
Fragile.
Broken in ways Lingling had never seen before.
“I am here, Lingling,” Orm whispered desperately, voice trembling. “I’m right here.”
Then she kissed her again.
And this time—
Lingling kissed her back.
Because she was tired.
So unbelievably tired.
Tired of denying herself.
Tired of pretending Orm no longer had the power to destroy her with one look.
Tired of acting unaffected whenever Orm reached for her only to leave afterward again and again.
So when Orm touched her face gently—
Lingling broke completely.
The kiss deepened slowly.
Hungry.
Emotional.
Painfully desperate.
Years of longing poured into it.
Years of silence.
Of missed chances.
Of loving each other at the wrong time.
Lingling held Orm’s face carefully like she was terrified she might disappear.
Orm kissed her back with trembling desperation, tears still slipping endlessly down her cheeks.
Neither of them noticed when they started crying.
Only that suddenly they were holding each other like drowning people trying to survive.
Foreheads pressed together.
Breaths shaking.
Lips searching for something they lost years ago.
“I missed you,” Orm whispered brokenly against her mouth.
And that confession nearly killed Lingling.
Because she spent months convincing herself Orm never would.
Lingling kissed her again before she could stop herself.
Deeper this time.
More desperate.
Every touch felt dangerous.
Orm’s fingers tangled tightly into Lingling’s shirt while Lingling pulled her impossibly closer, like proximity alone could heal all the years they wasted apart.
Nothing about it felt casual.
Nothing about it felt temporary.
It felt like grief.
Like finally touching the person you loved after surviving too long without them.
Their kisses became slower afterward.
More emotional.
More intimate.
Lingling rested her forehead against Orm’s, both of them breathing unevenly.
“We should stop, we're both drunk and I'm sure you'll regret this when you wake up tomorrow.” Lingling whispered weakly, like she was still trying to save whatever remained of her self-control.
Orm shook her head slightly before touching Lingling’s face carefully.
“We shouldn't ,” she whispered. “Let's stopped lying tonight.”
That destroyed Lingling completely.
And when Orm kissed her again—
Lingling stopped fighting.
The night swallowed them softly afterward.
Clothes discarded carelessly somewhere across the room.
Trembling hands.
Broken kisses.
Tearful confessions whispered between breaths.
They held each other like people terrified of losing time again.
Like this might be the last night they would ever get.
Every touch carried years of buried love beneath it.
Every kiss felt like an apology.
Like longing.
Like heartbreak.
Lingling memorized every inch of Orm all over again while Orm clung to her desperately, whispering her name over and over like prayer.
And somewhere between soft gasps, trembling embraces, and tears neither of them could stop—
they loved each other the way they always wanted to.
Fully.
Passionately.
Devastatingly.
Not out of lust alone—
but because they had spent too many years starving for each other.
Afterward, they stayed tangled together beneath the sheets, exhausted and emotionally ruined.
Orm rested quietly against Lingling’s chest while Lingling held her tightly, fingers brushing gently through her hair.
Neither of them spoke.
Because there was nothing safe left to say.
Only silence.
Only heartbeats.
Only the terrifying reality waiting for them once morning arrived.
Still—
Lingling pressed one final kiss against Orm’s forehead and closed her eyes.
And for one selfish night—
they stopped thinking.
Stopped choosing logic.
Stopped pretending they didn’t belong to each other somehow.
And loved each other in the quiet darkness until exhaustion finally pulled them under.
Morning came softly through the curtains of the apartment in Khon Kaen.
The golden sunlight slipped quietly through the thin fabric, painting faint streaks across the bedroom walls.
Everything felt still.
Too still.
Lingling woke slowly beneath tangled sheets, her body heavy with exhaustion.
Her head ached faintly from the alcohol.
For a few seconds, she simply stayed there, eyes half-closed, breathing slowly while trying to remember why her chest already hurt before she was even fully awake.
Then she shifted slightly.
And froze.
Bare skin.
Messy sheets.
The scent of Orm still lingering faintly against the pillows.
Faint red marks scattered across Lingling’s collarbone and shoulder.
And suddenly—
last night came crashing back all at once.
The birthday celebration.
The endless glasses of alcohol.
Orm crying in her arms.
Orm whispering her name like it still belonged there.
The trembling kisses.
The desperate confessions.
The way Orm held her all night like she was terrified of letting go.
And then—
them.
Finally collapsing into the feelings they spent years pretending didn’t exist.
Lingling’s breath caught painfully.
Because it happened.
After all these years—
they finally crossed the line neither of them ever dared touch before.
Slowly, almost fearfully, Lingling turned toward the other side of the bed.
Then reality hit her violently.
Empty.
Cold sheets.
No Orm.
Lingling immediately sat up.
“Orm?”
Her voice sounded rough.
Weak.
Silence answered her.
The apartment remained painfully quiet.
No footsteps.
No movement from the kitchen.
No sleepy voice teasing her for waking up late.
Nothing.
Lingling’s heartbeat started pounding painfully against her ribs.
Then her eyes landed on the bedside table.
A folded note rested there quietly.
Beside it—
the dried hydrangea keychain Orm always carried on her bags since university.
The one Lingling secretly bought for her years ago at a small flower market because Orm once said hydrangeas reminded her of love that stayed even after changing forms.
Lingling stared at it for a long moment before slowly reaching for the note with trembling fingers.
Something inside her already knew.
Already feared it.
She unfolded the paper carefully.
Inside—
only two words were written.
That was all.
No explanation.
No goodbye.
No promise.
No “let’s talk later.”
Just—
I’m sorry.
Lingling felt something inside her crack instantly.
Her chest tightened so painfully she could barely breathe.
Because suddenly—
last night no longer felt beautiful.
It felt devastating.
Orm left.
Orm went back to Sean.
And Lingling was alone again.
Lingling lowered her head slowly while gripping the note tightly in her shaking hands.
“What did we do…” she whispered brokenly.
Her voice sounded so small inside the empty room.
Because now what?
What were they supposed to do after this?
Pretend it never happened?
Go back to normal?
Go back to acting like they were only friends after finally loving each other the way they always wanted to?
How was Lingling supposed to survive losing Orm all over again after finally having her—
even for one night?
And worst of all—
Lingling hated herself for how quickly she broke.
Because she knew better.
God, she knew better.
She knew Orm still belonged to someone else.
Knew this would destroy both of them afterward.
Knew she should have stopped it the second Orm kissed her.
But the moment Orm looked at her with tears in her eyes and whispered, “I’m here”—
years of buried love shattered every ounce of restraint Lingling spent months building.
And now she was left alone in the aftermath.
Again.
Lingling pressed the heel of her hand against her eyes roughly.
But the tears came anyway.
Quiet at first.
Then unbearable.
She bent forward slowly, shoulders trembling while clutching the note tightly against her chest.
Because no matter how much she tried to deny it—
a part of her truly believed last night meant something.
Not drunkenness.
Not loneliness.
Something real.
The kind of love that never actually disappeared no matter how many years passed.
And maybe that was the cruelest part.
Because Lingling knew Orm loved her.
She knew it now.
But love was no longer enough.
Not when timing kept destroying them.
Not when another person was already waiting for Orm somewhere else.
Not when they were always too late for each other.
Lingling looked toward the empty side of the bed again.
Wrinkled sheets.
One pillow slightly indented where Orm slept hours ago.
Evidence that she was really there.
And somehow—
that made everything hurt even more.
Then Lingling noticed something else.
Orm’s phone charger was still plugged near the bedside table.
Her favorite hair tie rested beside the lamp.
One of her earrings had fallen near the blanket.
Little traces.
Tiny pieces of someone who left too fast.
Lingling let out a shaky breath before reaching for the earring carefully.
And that was when she completely broke down.
Because Orm leaving the small things behind somehow felt crueler than the note itself.
Like she left in a hurry.
Like staying even one second longer would have made her stay completely.
Lingling covered her mouth with one hand as sobs finally escaped her uncontrollably.
Years.
They spent years circling around each other.
Years almost confessing.
Almost choosing each other.
Almost becoming something real.
Only for it to happen like this.
One drunken night.
One moment of weakness.
One heartbreaking morning after.
Lingling cried quietly into the silence of the apartment while sunlight continued pouring gently through the curtains—
warm and beautiful against a room that suddenly felt unbearably empty.
And somewhere far away—
Orm was probably already on her way back to the life she was supposed to choose.
Leaving Lingling behind once again.
Lingling stumbled toward the bathroom numbly, each step heavier than the last as if her body had forgotten how to carry her properly.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Silence.
Finally—silence.
She turned the faucet on and leaned over the sink, gripping its edges until her knuckles turned pale. Cold water splashed against her face when she cupped it roughly, as if she could physically force herself to wake up from something that still felt unreal.
But when she lifted her head—
her reflection was still there.
Still her.
Still broken.
She shut her eyes tightly.
Trying desperately to steady her breathing.
Trying to wash away the ache clawing through her chest like something alive.
Trying to forget the way Orm’s hands had trembled against her skin last night, like she was afraid and certain at the same time.
But instead—
everything replayed with unbearable clarity.
Orm whispering her name like it meant something sacred.
Orm looking at her like she mattered more than anything else in the world.
Orm kissing her like she had finally, finally chosen her.
Lingling’s grip on the sink tightened.
Her breath hitched.
And then—
it broke.
A quiet sob slipped out before she could stop it.
Then another.
And suddenly she was crying again without sound, shoulders shaking violently under the running water.
Because despite everything—
despite the guilt twisting inside her chest…
despite the fear of what this meant…
despite knowing it would destroy her in the end—
last night had still been the happiest she had felt in a very long time.
And that realization—
that cruel, painful realization—
hurt more than anything else.
Because happiness, even for a moment, had a price.
And Lingling already knew she was the only one left paying it.
—
After showering, she changed quietly into fresh clothes that felt like foreign in her skin, like they belonged to someone who hadn’t just lost something irreplaceable.
Her hair was still damp when she stepped outside the apartment.
The sunlight hit her immediately.
Too bright.
Too ordinary.
Too alive for how ruined she felt inside.
Outside, Junji and Fluke were sitting on the small porch, both slouched over plastic chairs with coffee cups in hand like they were barely surviving the aftermath of the previous night.
Junji lifted a lazy hand.
“Morning, birthday survivor.”
Then she paused.
Her expression shifted immediately the moment she really looked at Lingling.
Fluke noticed too.
He straightened slightly.
“You okay?”
Lingling forced her lips into something resembling a smile.
“Yeah.”
It came out flat.
Unconvincing.
A lie so obvious it didn’t even deserve to be called one.
Junji’s brows slowly furrowed.
“Where’s Orm?”
That question—
simple as it was—
made Lingling’s fingers tighten around her coffee cup so hard it almost hurt.
“She’s gone,” she said quietly.
Two words.
Just like the note.
Something in the air shifted instantly.
Junji and Fluke exchanged a glance—quick, sharp, understanding in a way that didn’t need explanation.
Junji knew Lingling too well.
Too long.
Too deeply.
Her expression softened, but there was worry underneath it now.
“Ling…” she started carefully.
Then quieter—
“Did something happen last night?”
Lingling looked down immediately.
At her cup.
At her hands.
Anywhere but them.
And that silence—
that hesitation—
was enough.
Junji’s eyes widened slightly.
Fluke muttered a low curse under his breath, running a hand through his hair.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Only the distant sound of traffic beyond the quiet street filled the gap.
Then Junji sighed, heavier now, and stepped closer.
“Oh, Lingling…”
Her voice wasn’t teasing anymore.
It was careful.
Almost afraid.
Lingling let out a weak laugh.
It sounded wrong the moment it left her mouth.
Empty.
Fractured.
“She left before I woke up,” Lingling said.
Her voice barely held together.
The words landed heavily between them.
Junji’s face changed instantly.
“Did she say anything?”
Lingling reached into her pocket slowly.
Her fingers trembled as she pulled out the folded note.
She placed it on the small table between them without looking up.
Fluke picked it up first.
Read it.
And his jaw tightened immediately.
“That’s it?” he asked sharply.
Lingling nodded once.
Barely.
Junji stared at the note for a long moment, then suddenly exhaled through her nose—angry, frustrated, hurt on Lingling’s behalf.
“Okay no. Absolutely not.”
Lingling closed her eyes.
“Junji—”
“No,” Junji cut in immediately, voice rising. “She does not get to sleep with you after years of whatever this is and then leave a two-word apology like she forgot your birthday cake at Starbucks.”
Lingling flinched slightly.
But she didn’t argue.
Because Junji wasn’t wrong.
Fluke leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face tiredly.
“Junji…” Lingling said softly.
But Junji wasn’t finished.
“She knows what she’s doing to you,” she continued, frustrated now. “Even if she doesn’t mean to. Even if she’s confused. Ling, this isn’t just—”
“She was drunk,” Lingling interrupted quietly.
The words came out like instinct.
Like defense.
Like denial.
Junji stared at her.
“So were you.”
Silence.
That landed harder than anything else.
Lingling’s grip on her cup tightened again, her eyes dropping.
“She has Sean,” she said instead.
A name.
A wall.
A reminder.
Junji’s expression softened instantly.
And somehow—
that hurt even more.
Because that was the truth no one could escape.
The situation wasn’t simple.
It never had been.
Orm loved Lingling.
But Sean still existed.
Still waited somewhere in the background of everything they tried to become.
And Lingling—
Lingling was always the one left standing in the in-between.
Junji lowered herself slowly into the chair beside her.
More gently now.
“Ling…” she said, quieter.
But unsure.
Because there was nothing comforting enough to say.
Fluke stared at the note for a long moment before speaking again.
“I saw her last night.”
Lingling’s eyes flickered up slightly.
Fluke continued, voice low.
“The way she looked at you…”
He hesitated.
Then sighed.
“That girl is in love with you.”
The words hit Lingling like a quiet collapse.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just final.
Lingling’s chest tightened painfully.
Her throat burned.
“But she still left,” she said.
Simple.
Broken.
True.
No one answered immediately.
Because there was no answer that could make that contradiction hurt less.
Junji looked away first, jaw clenched.
Fluke stared at the coffee in his hands like it might give him answers it didn’t have.
The silence stretched.
Heavy.
Unforgiving.
And Lingling sat there between them—
sunlight on her skin,
coffee cooling in her hands,
a folded note on the table that reduced everything they had been last night into two words—
while the only thing louder than the world around her…
was the part of her still waiting for Orm to come back.