Chapter 10
Afterward, Lingling started her morning the same way she always did whenever her thoughts became too loud.
She went for a run.
The morning air in Khon Kaen felt different from Bangkok’s suffocating rush.
Cleaner.
Quieter.
Simpler.
The streets were slowly becoming alive. Small food stalls begun preparing for the morning crowd. A few motorcycles passed by lazily. Somewhere nearby, a radio played an old Thai love song muffled by distance.
Lingling adjusted her earphones before starting to run.
At first, her mind was loud again.
Too loud.
Memories came in pieces she never asked for.
Orm laughing inside the car after missing an exit.
Orm falling asleep during movie nights halfway through the film.
Orm stealing food from Lingling’s plate while insisting hers tasted better.
Orm looking at her like she mattered more than anything else in the room.
It still hurt.
God, it still hurt more than Lingling wanted to admit.
But as her feet continued moving against the pavement, her breathing slowly steadied.
The ache remained—
yet somehow it no longer felt like drowning.
Healing was strange like that.
Not dramatic.
Not sudden.
Just small moments where the pain became slightly easier to carry than yesterday.
And maybe that counted for something.
By the time Lingling returned to the apartment building, sweat clinging lightly against her skin, sunlight had fully covered the city.
She showered quietly afterward, letting warm water calm the exhaustion sitting inside her chest.
For the first time in months, she felt... lighter.
Not okay.
Not fully healed.
But lighter.
She honestly expected the rest of the day to stay peaceful.
Simple.
She was wrong.
—
By lunchtime, the apartment garden downstairs had transformed completely.
Lingling nearly stopped walking the moment she stepped outside.
White and blue balloons floated everywhere across the yard, tied onto chairs, tables, railings, even tree branches.
Long buffet tables lined one side of the garden covered with trays of food, drinks, desserts, and snacks.
Someone had hung a ridiculous birthday banner slightly crooked near the entrance "Happy Birthday Lingling Kwong".
Workers from the project moved around laughing while arranging plates and fixing decorations.
Music played softly from portable speakers nearby.
The entire place felt warm.
Alive.
Junji stood proudly in the middle of the chaos with both hands on her hips.
“Behold,” she announced dramatically. “Our extremely low-budget but emotionally expensive birthday party.”
Lingling blinked at everything speechlessly.
“You guys did all this?”
“Mostly me,” Junji answered immediately without shame.
Fluke scoffed from behind her.
“You taped one balloon.”
Junji pointed accusingly.
“It was an emotionally important balloon.”
“That balloon almost exploded because you used too much tape.”
“It represented struggle.”
Lingling laughed before she could stop herself.
A real laugh.
Not the polite small ones she’d been forcing lately.
An actual laugh that made her shoulders loosen naturally.
And God—
she suddenly realized how long it had been since she laughed like this.
Warmth spread quietly through her chest.
Not from romance.
Not from longing.
Just from being cared for.
The celebration itself stayed simple.
Comfortable.
The workers greeted Lingling one by one as if she were family already. Some handed her small gifts wrapped carelessly in paper bags. Others gave snacks, flowers, handwritten notes, or keychains bought from nearby stores.
One older engineer gifted her vitamins while sternly reminding her to stop skipping meals.
Another jokingly offered her a cement bag from the construction site “for emotional support.”
Junji nearly cried laughing.
Fluke spent most of the afternoon roasting everyone mercilessly while secretly grilling meat for the group.
The sunlight softened around the garden as afternoon slowly settled in.
And somehow—
for a little while—
Lingling forgot everything painful.
Forgot the nights she cried quietly inside her apartment.
Forgot the unanswered feelings.
Forgot Orm.
Forgot Sean.
Forgot the almost-love that still haunted her chest.
For once, she simply existed in the moment.
At exactly two in the afternoon, everyone gathered around the cake placed on the center table.
The workers began singing loudly and horribly off-key.
Junji sang the loudest on purpose.
Fluke threatened to remove the speakers entirely.
Lingling stood there smiling helplessly while candles flickered softly in front of her.
“Speech!” someone yelled immediately.
“Yes! Speech!” Junji repeated while clapping aggressively.
Lingling narrowed her eyes.
“No.”
Everyone booed dramatically.
Junji looked personally betrayed.
“I defended your honor for months and this is what I get?”
“You spread fake rumors about me.”
“They were entertaining rumors.”
Before Lingling could answer—
the sound of a car entering the driveway suddenly interrupted everything.
Conversations slowly faded.
Everyone turned instinctively toward the gate.
Lingling glanced over casually.
And froze.
A familiar black car rolled slowly to a stop near the entrance.
The world around her suddenly felt distant.
Muted.
Like everything became quieter all at once.
The driver’s door opened.
And Orm stepped out carefully while holding a large cake box with both hands.
For a second—
Lingling genuinely forgot how to breathe.
Orm looked exhausted.
Like she had driven for hours without properly resting.
Her hair was slightly messy from the long trip. The sleeves of her oversized sweater covered half her hands. There were faint shadows beneath her eyes.
But despite looking tired—
she smiled immediately the moment she saw Lingling.
Soft.
Relieved.
Like arriving there had been the only thing keeping her awake.
And suddenly every emotion Lingling spent months trying to bury came rushing back violently all at once.
Junji’s jaw literally dropped.
Fluke stared openly before muttering a quiet curse under his breath.
Orm walked toward Lingling slowly, carefully balancing the cake box in her arms.
“I almost destroyed this three times on the way here,” she admitted breathlessly.
Lingling stared at her in disbelief.
“You drove all the way here?”
Orm nodded as if it were obvious.
“It’s your birthday.”
As if that alone explained everything.
As if of course she would drive across cities just to see Lingling.
Like she always used to.
Lingling felt her chest ache instantly.
Because Sean existed.
Sean was still Orm’s boyfriend.
And yet here Orm was—
standing in front of her looking like she crossed entire provinces just to make her smile for one day.
Before Lingling could stop herself—
she stepped forward and hugged Orm tightly.
Orm hugged her back immediately.
No hesitation.
No awkwardness.
And the second their bodies touched—
something inside both of them cracked painfully open.
Because it still felt exactly the same.
Familiar.
Safe.
Home.
Lingling closed her eyes briefly against Orm’s shoulder.
God.
She missed this.
Missed her.
More than she ever allowed herself to admit.
“Thank you,” Lingling whispered shakily. “I didn’t expect you to come.”
Orm pulled back slightly just enough to look at her properly.
“Of course I came.”
The sincerity in her voice nearly destroyed Lingling right there.
Because for one terrifying moment—
standing beneath floating white balloons and golden afternoon sunlight—
it felt like nothing between them had changed at all.
Like maybe time had frozen somewhere before Sean existed.
Before heartbreak.
Before distance.
Before reality ruined everything.
—
But reality always returned eventually.
Cruelly.
Fast.
While Orm still stood close beside her, Lingling suddenly noticed the phone vibrating nonstop inside Orm’s sweater pocket.
The screen lit up brightly.
Sean calling.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The name flashed across the screen before disappearing.
Only for another call to come seconds later.
Orm’s expression shifted instantly.
Guilt.
Panic.
Confusion.
And Lingling felt her heart sink quietly.
There it was again.
Reality.
Lingling stepped back first.
Creating careful distance between them.
Like she suddenly remembered the line they were no longer allowed to cross.
“You should answer that,” Lingling said softly.
Orm looked at her immediately.
“It’s okay.”
But Lingling only smiled gently.
That same careful smile she had learned to wear over heartbreak.
“Sean’s probably worried.”
Orm stared at her for a few seconds too long before finally silencing the call again.
Not rejecting it.
Not declining.
Just silencing it.
And somehow—
that hurt Lingling even more.
Because it made this moment feel temporary.
Borrowed.
Like Orm came running toward Lingling while leaving another person waiting behind somewhere else.
Junji awkwardly cleared her throat nearby.
“Okay…” she muttered carefully. “This tension is making me emotionally unemployed.”
Fluke elbowed her immediately.
But the joke barely lightened the atmosphere.
Because everyone could feel it now.
The fragile ache hanging quietly between Orm and Lingling.
The unfinished feelings neither of them knew what to do with.
The dangerous familiarity still living inside every glance.
And worst of all—
the way both of them still looked at each other like coming home.
Later that afternoon, despite insisting she would leave after lunch, Orm somehow ended up staying for the birthday celebration the workers prepared for Lingling.
No one really gave her much of a choice.
The women pulled her toward the long tables with teasing smiles, already treating her like she had always belonged there.
Someone handed her paper plates. Someone else asked her to help arrange drinks.
And before she realized it, Orm was standing beside Lingling again as if the years between them had never happened at all.
Lingling introduced her to the workers one by one.
Orm smiled politely at each person.
Laughed softly when the older men kept nudging Lingling and saying things she clearly refused to translate aloud.
Helped serve food.
Passed around rice bowls.
Carried trays without complaint even though everyone kept telling her she did not have to.
And through it all, she remained beside Lingling naturally.
Effortlessly.
Like muscle memory neither of them had successfully erased.
At one point, Lingling’s cheap paper birthday crown slipped sideways while she bent down helping one of the workers’ children open a juice box.
Without thinking, Orm reached over and fixed it carefully.
Her fingers brushed against Lingling’s hair only for a second.
But it was enough.
Enough for Lingling’s chest to tighten painfully.
Enough for her to forget how to breathe for a moment.
Later, while Orm spoke to one of the workers under the afternoon heat, Lingling handed her a bottle of water automatically before Orm even asked for one.
Orm accepted it without hesitation.
Without surprise.
As though her hands still expected Lingling to take care of her that way.
And God—
that hurt even more.
Because they still moved around each other perfectly.
Still knew each other’s habits.
Still anticipated every small need before words became necessary.
Orm still hated overly sweet drinks.
Lingling still removed the cucumber from Orm’s plate absentmindedly before handing it over.
Orm still stood slightly closer whenever crowds became too noisy.
Lingling still glanced back while walking just to make sure Orm was following behind her.
Tiny things.
Insignificant things.
But each one slowly destroyed Lingling all over again.
Because this—
this was exactly why she had tried pulling away in the first place.
Because every single time Orm came close, Lingling forgot the reality she had spent months trying to accept.
Forgot the distance.
Forgot the silence.
Forgot the heartbreak.
Forgot why letting go had become necessary for survival.
One moment with Orm and suddenly hope returned like something cruel.
Hope that maybe Orm still looked for her first in crowded places.
Hope that maybe Orm still reached for her in her sleep.
Hope that maybe all those years had meant as much to Orm as they did to her.
And Lingling hated herself for still wanting more.
For still wanting impossible things.
The afternoon sun slowly softened into gold while laughter echoed around the farm.
Someone started singing terribly off-key beside the karaoke machine.
The workers laughed loudly.
Children ran around chasing each other through the grass.
And for a while—
for one dangerously beautiful while—
everything felt normal again.
Painfully normal.
Like the old days.
Like those four years in Bangkok when they shared almost every part of their lives without ever officially calling it love.
Like those mornings where Orm would arrive at the office carrying two coffees because she already memorized Lingling’s order.
Like those late nights inside Lingling’s car parked outside convenience stores while soft music played in the background and neither of them wanted to say goodbye yet.
Like all the company dinners where their coworkers jokingly called them wives because they bickered like a married couple and cared for each other too naturally to simply be friends.
Like vacations booked together without discussion.
Like matching routines.
Like shared apartments during business trips.
Like intertwined lives neither of them noticed becoming permanent until it was too late.
They had built something frighteningly close to forever without ever admitting it aloud.
And maybe that had always been the problem.
Because love remained safest when unspoken.
The moment someone confessed—
everything could break.
So they stayed in between.
Neither brave enough to ask.
Neither willing to walk away.
And now they were here.
Standing in the middle of a quiet Khon Kaen province pretending they had not once almost belonged entirely to each other.
Lingling looked at Orm from across the table while the others laughed around them.
Orm was smiling at something one of the workers said, sunlight catching softly against her face.
Beautiful.
Familiar.
Still the first person Lingling searched for unconsciously in every room.
Still home.
And Lingling suddenly realized that maybe the cruelest thing about loving Orm was not the waiting.
Not the distance.
Not even the uncertainty.
It was the fact that even now—
after everything—
being beside Orm still felt right.
Like a life that should have happened naturally.
A future that almost existed.
A lifetime waiting for them—
if only one of them had dared first.
—
Everything was going smoothly for Orm that afternoon.
The apartment was warm with laughter, music, and the smell of grilled food drifting through the air.
Workers sat around folding tables while sharing drinks and stories.
Someone was singing horribly near the karaoke machine while everyone else booed and laughed at him.
The birthday decorations hanging around t+ moved gently with the afternoon wind.
And at the center of it all was Lingling.
Relaxed.
Happy.
Beautiful in the most effortless way possible.
Orm had been secretly watching her for the last few minutes while pretending to help arrange plates on the table.
Watching the way Lingling laughed with her workers.
The way she leaned her head back whenever she found something genuinely funny.
The way everyone naturally gravitated toward her.
It made Orm smile without realizing it.
Everything felt light.
Comfortable.
Safe.
Until suddenly—
the sound of multiple luxury car engines entering the apartment driveway echoed loudly from below.
One by one—
conversations slowly died.
Forks paused midair.
The karaoke music awkwardly continued in the background before someone eventually lowered the volume.
Even the workers grilling meat near the corner stopped moving.
Everyone turned toward the entrance curiously.
Junji blinked slowly.
“Uh…”
Fluke lowered his drink.
“What the hell?”
Another engine echoed.
Then another.
And another.
The atmosphere instantly shifted from casual birthday party—
to something that felt oddly expensive.
The first car finally stopped near the entrance.
A red Ferrari.
Heads immediately turned.
The car door opened smoothly—
revealing Bam— the Interior Designer.
She steps out elegantly in fitted black dress while carrying an enormous wrapped gift bag that probably cost more than someone’s monthly salary.
Right behind her were two assistants struggling while carrying massive flower arrangements.
The workers nearby nearly screamed.
Junji looked like she was about to faint.
“Oh my God.”
Bam removed her sunglasses before immediately spotting Lingling from across the garden.
And the smile that appeared on her face softened instantly.
“Birthday girl,” she greeted warmly. “You look more handsome today.”
A few workers gasped dramatically.
Lingling herself looked stunned.
“Bam?”
But before she could even move—
another car entered.
A black Audi R8.
Mint— the lawyer stepped out gracefully, dressed beautifully in a red fitted dress while holding a large velvet jewelry box carefully in her hand.
The garden collectively lost its mind.
“No way…”
“She’s gorgeous…”
“Who ARE these women?!”
Mint smiled softly after seeing Lingling.
And unlike Bam’s playful energy—
hers felt calm.
Dangerously elegant.
“You disappeared for weeks,” Mint said while approaching her slowly. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”
Then came the silver Porsche.
Charlotte—the world class chef, emerged next, wearing a white long sleeve blouse while carrying several luxury food boxes stacked in her arms alongside neatly packed brownies tied with ribbons.
“Sorry I’m late, handsome,” Charlotte said casually. “Kitchen emergency.”
The workers looked seconds away from collapsing.
Even Fluke muttered under his breath.
“This is insane.”
Before Lingling could recover—
another car arrived.
A green BMW.
Miu— the doctor stepped out carrying a Dior paper bag carefully against her chest while smiling softly the moment she saw Lingling standing frozen near the tables.
And lastly—
a pink sports car entered dramatically like it belonged in a movie scene.
The driver’s door swung open.
Yada—the engineer stepped out confidently while carrying expensive engineering supplies wrapped neatly with silver ribbons.
Complete silence swallowed the garden.
Nobody moved.
Nobody even blinked.
Then Junji whispered aggressively beside Fluke:
“WHY ARE THERE SO MANY BEAUTIFUL WOMEN HERE?!”
Fluke rubbed his forehead helplessly.
“These are the girls we tried setting Lingling up with before.”
The moment those words left his mouth—
Orm froze.
Her smile slowly disappeared.
Because suddenly—
something painful settled heavily inside her chest.
These women…
liked Lingling.
Not casually.
Not platonically.
Not in the harmless teasing way Orm originally assumed.
No.
This was different.
They came all the way here for Lingling’s birthday.
With flowers.
Jewelry.
Designer gifts.
Luxury perfume.
Handmade food.
Personalized presents.
And every single one of them looked at Lingling with unmistakable affection.
Like someone important.
Someone worth remembering.
Someone worth showing up for.
Lingling herself looked completely overwhelmed.
Speechless.
“W-what are you all doing here?”
Bam laughed softly before immediately hugging Lingling tightly.
“You seriously thought we’d miss your birthday?”
Mint stepped closer next, handing over the velvet jewelry box before leaning forward naturally—
pressing a kiss against Lingling’s cheek.
“You ignored everyone’s invitations for weeks,” she murmured teasingly. “So we came instead.”
Several workers almost screamed.
Junji covered her mouth dramatically.
Charlotte carefully placed the food containers on the table before wrapping her arms around Lingling from the side.
“I cooked everything myself,” she said proudly before kissing the corner of Lingling’s lips briefly. “All your favorites. Because unlike you, I actually remember things.”
The garden exploded.
“OH MY GOD—”
“DID YOU SEE THAT?!”
Lingling nearly choked.
“Charlotte—”
But Miu had already approached next.
Gentle.
Soft.
Beautiful.
She handed Lingling the Dior bag carefully before kissing her other cheek.
“It’s your new favorite scent,” Miu said quietly. “The one you mentioned during dinner before. Also I brought you vitamins and allergy medicines.”
Lingling thank her.
And lastly—
Yada stepped forward grinning.
“I miss you, handsome.”
She reached up casually to fix Lingling’s messy hair before pulling her into a hug.
“And because your engineering tools are absolutely terrible.”
Laughter erupted across the rooftop immediately.
Even Lingling laughed awkwardly despite looking completely overwhelmed.
Everyone found the situation entertaining.
Everyone except Orm.
Because with every hug—
every kiss—
every intimate little detail those women remembered about Lingling—
something sharp twisted deeper and deeper inside her chest.
It hurt.
Far more than it should.
And she hated that.
Hated how suddenly aware she became of the gap between herself and them.
These women were too accomplished.
Elegant.
Successful.
Beautiful beyond reason.
An interior designer.
A lawyer.
A world-class chef.
A doctor.
An engineer.
Women who clearly belonged in the rich world moved in naturally.
And Orm—
suddenly felt painfully out of place standing there holding paper plates.
For the first time that afternoon—
she became hyperaware of herself.
Of her simple clothes she chose to wear right now.
Of the fact that she didn’t even know now that Lingling has new favorite perfume.
Or her new favorite meals.
Or what kind of jewelry she liked now.
Meanwhile these women knew everything.
And worse—
Lingling looked comfortable around them.
Familiar.
Like this wasn’t new.
Like they had already shared moments Orm knew nothing about.
Lingling continued thanking them awkwardly one by one while trying to calm everyone down.
“Seriously, you guys didn’t have to come all the way here.”
“But we wanted to,” Bam replied immediately.
“Obviously,” Charlotte added.
Mint smiled knowingly while watching Lingling carefully.
“We missed you.”
The workers nearby started whispering aggressively among themselves while staring at Lingling like she was suddenly some celebrity heartthrob in a drama series.
Junji looked personally betrayed.
“Why does Lingling have an entire lineup of gorgeous successful women obsessed with her?!”
“Because unfortunately,” Fluke muttered, “that woman has ridiculous game without even trying. And she has the face of the economy.”
Orm forced herself to laugh softly with everyone else.
But the sound barely came out properly.
Because suddenly—
she couldn’t breathe normally anymore.
And the worst part?
Lingling still hadn’t noticed.
Or maybe she had.
Because after helping the girls settle near the tables—
Lingling instinctively searched the garden.
Her eyes immediately finding Orm standing quietly near the drinks station.
And the moment their gazes met—
Lingling’s smile faltered slightly.
Because Orm had gone strangely quiet.