Chapter 36 #4
"It wasn't entirely your fault, Orm," Fluke whispered, his voice breaking.
"People make mistakes," Junji added softly.
"Someday..."
His voice faltered.
"...maybe everything will be okay."
But the words never reached her.
They sounded distant.
Muffled.
As though she were submerged beneath an endless ocean, sinking deeper with every passing second.
How could they understand?
How could anyone understand?
They couldn't see the decay spreading through her heart.
They couldn't feel the unbearable weight pressing against her chest.
They didn't know what it felt like to become the reason the person you loved forgot how to smile, to dream, and to live.
They didn't know what it was like to carry a guilt so immense that even breathing felt undeserved.
"Someday..."
What a cruel word.
There was no someday.
Not for her.
Not anymore.
Because no amount of time could erase what she had done.
No apology could undo the scars.
No miracle could return the light she had extinguished.
Some mistakes demanded forgiveness.
Others became lifelong punishments.
And as Orm cried herself into complete exhaustion beneath the dim lights of that silent hotel room...
She realized with horrifying clarity...
She would carry this pain for the rest of her life.
—
Eventually, her tears simply ran dry. A hollow, ghostly stillness settled over her.
Looking at their exhausted, worried faces, a sudden, sickening wave of pity washed over her.
They shouldn't have to carry her wreckage.
Gathering what little strength she had left, Orm forced her trembling lips into a smile—a fragile, hollow lie meant to set them at ease.
"I'll go take a shower," she whispered, her voice sounding incredibly distant.
The click of the bathroom deadbolt felt like a final, mercy-filled sentence.
She didn't turn on the water to wash herself; she turned it on so the sound would drown out her final moments.
Looking at her reflection in the mirror, all she saw was a monster who had ruined the only thing that mattered.
The guilt was no longer just a feeling—it was a physical weight crushing her lungs, begging to be let out.
When the cold metal met her skin, she didn't even flinch.
The physical pain was nothing compared to the fire burning in her mind.
Sliding down onto the cold tiles, Orm watched the crimson bloom and spread across the floor.
For the first time in months, a wave of peace washed over her.
It didn't hurt.
The world began to slow down, the suffocating noise in her head finally fading into a quiet, beautiful hum.
Her skin grew pale and cold, but she felt entirely warm.
Closing her eyes, she let the last of her tears track down her face, ready to slip away into the dark.
Then, a deafening crash shattered her peace.
The door flew open.
Through a fading haze, she registered blinding lights, a sudden rush of cold air, and screaming.
So much screaming.
Fluke's voice was cracked and frantic as he lifted her.
His hands desperately pressing towels against her wrist, getting soaked in her failure.
Beside him, Junji was hysterical, her hands shaking so violently she could barely hold her phone to dial for help.
Orm wanted to tell them to stop.
She wanted to tell them to just let her sleep, but she couldn't move her lips.
The ambulance ride was a nightmare of sirens and flashing red lights.
As she lay on the stretcher, staring blankly at the roof of the vehicle, Junji held her hand, begging her over and over through her sobs:
"Please don't leave us! Please stay! Please don't die!"
Orm had never heard her friend sound so broken.
A faint pang of sorrow hit her for causing them pain.
But deeper down, a dark, bitter despair took root. Why wouldn't they just let her go?
When the darkness finally receded and Orm woke up to the sterile, white ceiling of the hospital room, she didn't feel relieved.
She didn't care about the tubes in her arms or the thick bandages wrapped tightly around her wrist.
She just felt a profound, crushing disappointment. She was still here. She still had to breathe.
Looking up at Fluke and Junji standing over her bed, their eyes red and swollen, the only words she could drag out of her throat were a desperate, broken plea.
"Why did you save me?"
Fresh tears leaked from her eyes, soaking into the hospital pillow. She grabbed at Fluke's sleeve, begging him, stripping away whatever dignity she had left.
"Please... just let me die. I can't carry this anymore. I can't live knowing I destroyed her."
For Orm, the darkness didn't bring rest. It only brought a movie reel of her sins.
"Every time I close my eyes... I see Lingling crying," she sobbed, the memory of those tears cutting deeper than any blade ever could.
"Every single day feels like a punishment. Please... if you ever loved me at all... just let me go."
—
The following morning...
Lingling's mother came to visit.
The moment Orm saw her...
She immediately fell to her knees.
"I'm sorry."
Her voice shook violently.
"I'm so sorry."
"I've rehearsed these words for years..."
"...and they'll never be enough."
Tears streamed endlessly down her face.
"I hurt your daughter."
"I broke her heart."
"I couldn't protect her."
"I couldn't even explain."
"I failed her."
Lingling's mother knelt before her.
Instead of anger...
She wrapped both arms around Orm.
And cried with her.
"My child..."
she whispered.
"You've been carrying this all alone."
Orm buried her face against the older woman's shoulder.
"I never stopped loving her."
"I know."
"I never will."
"I know."
"I wanted to come sooner."
"I know."
Lingling's mother gently cupped Orm's face.
"If you truly love her..."
She smiled through tears.
"Then give her what neither of you had."
"Time."
"Let her heal."
"Let yourself heal too."
"When the right day comes..."
"If your love is meant to find each other again..."
"It will."
Orm closed her eyes.
Then nodded.
"I'll wait."
No matter how long it took.
She would wait.
Because loving Lingling had never been about possessing her.
It had always been about wanting her to be happy.
Even if that happiness had to exist without Orm for a while.
—
Before flying back to Thailand...
Orm visited the café Lingling always sits one last time.
She watched Lingling from across the street for hours.
She smiled every time Lingling form a small smile.
She silently cried every time Lingling looked lonely.
When the sun finally set...
Orm whispered into the evening breeze.
"I still choose you."
"I always will."
Then she quietly walked away.
Never letting Lingling know...
She had been loved all along.
From that day forward...
Orm stopped chasing fate.
Instead...
She learned how to wait for it.
She kept the promise she had made to Lingling's mother.
She would let Lingling heal.
She would never force herself back into her life.
And she would continue loving her...
Quietly.
Patiently.
Faithfully.
From a distance.