Chapter 40 #4
That she wanted to know and love Liam.
Her son.
The little boy who had grown up knowing Lingling only through photographs and stories.
The little boy who had unknowingly carried pieces of love without ever understanding where they came from.
Orm laughed weakly through her tears.
"I can't believe this."
Lingling smiled.
"I can."
"I spent so many years thinking this would never happen."
"I know."
"I cried about it."
"I know."
"I even imagined what I would say if you ever came back."
Lingling raised an eyebrow.
"And?"
Orm laughed.
"I forgot everything."
Lingling laughed softly.
"Good."
She wiped Orm's cheeks with her thumbs.
"You've cried enough."
Orm sniffled.
"You have been crying for four years."
Lingling smiled sadly.
"Then maybe we still have a lot of catching up to do."
Orm laughed again.
A real laugh.
Small.
Fragile.
But real.
Lingling cupped her face.
"Enough crying, baby."
Orm smiled.
"That's easy for you to say."
"No."
Lingling shook her head.
"I'm serious."
She pressed a kiss against Orm's forehead.
"From now on, I'll try my best to give you reasons to cry happy tears."
Orm's eyes softened.
"One step at a time?"
"One step at a time."
Orm nodded.
"One step at a time."
For a moment, silence returned.
But this time, it was warm.
Safe.
It no longer felt like the silence that had existed between them for four years.
It wasn't filled with things they were afraid to say.
It wasn't filled with unanswered questions.
It wasn't a goodbye waiting to happen.
It was simply two exhausted hearts finally resting in the same place.
Lingling played with Orm's fingers.
Then she smiled.
"Orm?"
"Hmm?"
"Aside from dinosaurs, I noticed that Liam seems to be fond of me."
Orm laughed softly.
"He does."
Lingling looked genuinely surprised.
"Really?"
Orm nodded.
"Liam knows you."
Lingling blinked.
"What?"
"He may not have realized it the first time he saw you."
Orm's thumb slowly traced over Lingling's fingers.
"But he knew you."
"How?"
"Because he always saw me looking at your pictures."
Lingling's expression softened.
"I never hid you from him."
Orm smiled.
"I told him our story."
"Everything?"
"Not everything."
She laughed.
"He's still a child."
Lingling smiled.
"But he knows you were someone important to me."
"More than important."
Orm nodded.
"He knows."
She looked at Lingling.
"He knows you're the woman I loved."
Lingling's eyes became glassy.
"And he understands that his father and I are co-parents now."
She took a breath.
"He's a bright boy."
"I can tell."
"And I know he'll accept you."
Lingling squeezed her hand.
"If we get there."
Orm smiled.
"When we get there."
Lingling's heart skipped.
"When?"
Orm smiled through the remaining tears.
"When."
Lingling leaned over and kissed her temple.
"We will."
-
They spent the rest of the afternoon talking.
Not about weddings.
Not about forever.
Not about what would happen ten years from now.
Just life.
The life they had missed.
Lingling told Orm about Paris.
About the tiny café near her work where the owner had started recognizing her order.
About the mornings she spent walking through the streets alone.
About the books she bought but never finished.
About the few friends she had made.
About the quiet dinners with her family.
About the nights when the city outside her window was beautiful, yet somehow never beautiful enough because there was no one beside her to share it with.
Orm listened.
Then she told Lingling about Liam.
His favorite toys.
His terrible eating habits.
The questions he asked at the most inconvenient times.
The way he laughed so loudly that everyone in the house would end up laughing with him.
The little things he did that reminded Orm of Lingling.
The way he tilted his head when he was confused.
The way he scrunched his nose when he didn't like something.
The way he refused to admit when he was sleepy.
Though Liam is not Lingling's biological son, he showed some of Lingling's habits.
Those kept Orm at bay on those lonely four years.
Lingling listened to every story.
Every little detail.
As if she were trying to make up for four years in a single day.
They laughed.
They cried.
They apologized.
They listened.
And somewhere between the memories, Orm brought up something neither of them had considered before.
"Maybe..."
She hesitated.
"Maybe we should see someone."
Lingling looked at her.
"A therapist?"
Orm nodded.
"Together."
Lingling didn't hesitate.
"I think that's a good idea."
Orm exhaled.
"We have a lot to unpack."
Lingling smiled sadly.
"Four years worth."
"Exactly."
Orm rested her head against Lingling's shoulder again.
"I don't want us to pretend everything is magically fixed because we finally talked."
Lingling kissed the top of her head.
"I don't either."
"I want us to do this properly."
"Then we will."
"Even when it's hard?"
"Especially when it's hard."
"Together?"
Lingling's arm tightened around her.
"Together.
-
Later, they ate something warm.
Nothing fancy.
Nothing extraordinary.
Just a simple meal shared between two people who had spent far too many years eating alone.
Yet somehow, it felt like the most precious meal either of them had ever shared.
Their hands remained intertwined beneath the table.
Neither wanted to let go.
Every time their fingers loosened, one of them instinctively reached for the other.
As if their hands remembered what their minds had spent four years trying to forget.
Four years had changed them.
They were different now.
Older.
Wiser.
Scarred.
They carried wounds that might never completely disappear.
There were things they would need to forgive.
Things they would need to understand.
Trust that would have to be rebuilt slowly.
There would be difficult conversations.
There would be moments when the past returned unexpectedly and hurt them again.
There might be days when one of them became afraid.