Chapter 38
Still a flashback...............................
Every morning in her room in Paris, in the small guest house beside the Kwong residence, Orm woke long before dawn.
Not because she had slept well.
But because sleep had long since abandoned her.
The silence of the early hours had become her closest companion. It was the only time of day when the world wasn't awake enough to remind her of everything she had lost.
Outside her window, the streets were still cloaked in darkness. The city remained asleep beneath the pale glow of the moon, while a cold breeze brushed against the glass.
Inside the room, however, Orm's heart had already begun its daily ritual.
A ritual she repeated every single morning for an entire month.
A ritual that slowly kept her alive...
She quietly tied her hair back, slipped on an apron, and walked into the kitchen.
There, she cooked.
Every ingredient she touched belonged to someone else.
To Lingling.
The woman she still loved with every shattered piece of her heart.
Her hands trembled as she washed vegetables, measured spices, and stirred warm soup. Every movement was slow and careful, almost sacred, as though she were praying instead of cooking.
She still remembered every single dish Lingling had once fallen in love with.
The mushroom porridge she always requested whenever she caught a cold.
The steamed fish seasoned just the way Lingling liked.
The delicate dumplings that made Lingling smile after a long day.
The warm soy milk that Lingling insisted tasted better when Orm prepared it.
Even the tiny details had never faded from Orm's memory.
Less salt.
Extra ginger.
A little more pepper and chili.
Love had engraved those details into her heart long ago.
And despite everything that had happened...
Orm still remembered all of it.
Because forgetting Lingling had never been an option.
Every meal she prepared wasn't simply breakfast.
It was an apology she could never say aloud.
A confession she no longer had the right to make.
A love letter written without words.
Some mornings, after arranging the dishes with meticulous care, Orm would gently place a single sprig of Lily of the Valley beside the tray.
Lingling's favorite flower.
The tiny white blossoms looked fragile.
Just like the love they once shared.
Just like Orm herself.
When everything was ready, she would quietly leave the tray where Lingling would find it before retreating to the safety of her room.
Then came the hardest part.
Watching.
Hidden behind the curtains, Orm stood by the window.
Always from a distance.
Always unseen.
She watched as Lingling stepped into the kitchen.
Watched as confusion briefly crossed her beautiful face.
Watched as those elegant fingers brushed against the tiny white flowers.
Then...
Very slowly...
Lingling smiled.
It wasn't the radiant smile Orm used to know.
It was small.
Faint.
Almost broken.
But it was there.
And somehow...
That tiny smile managed to save Orm...
...while killing her at exactly the same time.
Tears would quietly stream down Orm's face as she pressed a trembling hand against her mouth to silence her sobs.
She wanted nothing more than to run downstairs.
To wrap Lingling in her arms.
To hear her laugh again.
To tell her-
"I'm here."
"I never stopped loving you."
"Please come back to me."
But she couldn't.
Because right now......
To Lingling...
Orm had become a stranger.
Every smile Lingling unknowingly offered those mysterious breakfasts became another reminder that Orm no longer existed inside her memories.
That realization hurt more than any punishment life could have given.
...
One evening, rain poured endlessly over Paris.
Thunder rolled across the dark sky.
From her room, Orm heard it.
A soft cough.
Then another.
Then another.
Lingling was sick.
Her body reacted before her mind could stop it.
She brewed fresh herbal tea.
Prepared warm soup.
Gathered medicine.
Wrapped everything neatly on a tray.
Then, when the mansion finally fell asleep...
Orm quietly slipped inside Lingling's room.
The moonlight spilled gently across Lingling's sleeping figure.
Even while ill...
She was still beautiful.
Painfully beautiful.
Orm stood frozen beside the bed.
She hadn't been this close in years.
She could hear Lingling's breathing.
Could see the loose strands of hair resting against her cheeks.
Could almost pretend...
Just for one impossible second...
...that none of this had ever happened.
That they were still them.
That this was simply another ordinary night.
With trembling fingers, Orm carefully placed the tea and medicine on the bedside table.
Orm reached out.
Her fingertips hovered above Lingling's forehead for several seconds.
She knew she shouldn't.
She knew she had no right anymore.
But love...
Love had never listened to reason.
Very gently...
She brushed Lingling's hair away from her face.
Then leaned down.
Her lips barely touched Lingling's forehead.
One feather-light kiss.
So soft that even the wind could have mistaken it for a dream.
The moment their skin met...
Orm broke.
A silent sob escaped her lips.
She quickly covered her mouth before another could follow.
She nearly collapsed beside the bed.
Because for one fleeting heartbeat...
It felt exactly like home.
And losing home all over again...
It was almost enough to stop her own heart.
She fled the room moments later, closing the door as quietly as she had entered.
Only after she reached her room did she allow herself to cry.
Sliding helplessly against the wall...
She buried her face in her knees.
No one heard her.
No one saw her.
She cried until sunrise.
...
Winter slowly crept into Paris.
The mornings became colder.
The nights grew longer.
Sleep remained a stranger.
Unable to quiet her restless heart, Orm began knitting.
Night after night.
Row after row.
Stitch after stitch.
Every thread carried another silent prayer.
Every knot held another memory.
Every inch of the scarf became another piece of the love she had never stopped carrying.
When she finally finished it...
She folded it carefully.
Smoothed every wrinkle with gentle hands.
Then left it quietly beside Lingling's bed before disappearing once more.
She never stayed long enough to see Lingling wear it.
She simply hoped...
That somehow...
It would keep Lingling warm...
Since she no longer could.
...
One quiet morning, Orm stood in front of another freshly prepared meal.
Steam rose gently from the soup.
Her fingers rested on the container's lid.
She didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't blink.
Her chest hurt so much she wondered if hearts could physically split in two.
"I'll keep waiting..."
she whispered.
Her voice cracked.
"...no matter how long it takes."
A tear landed on the lid.
Then another.
"I don't care if it takes months..."
Her breathing trembled.
"...years..."
Another sob escaped.
"...or another lifetime."
She lowered her forehead against the container.
"I'll still wait for you."
"I'll wait until your heart remembers mine."
"I'll wait until you look at me the way you used to."
"I'll wait..."
"...even if I'm the only one still remembering our forever."
Then she wiped away her tears.
Forced another smile.
Picked herself back up.
And disappeared into the shadows...
Leaving behind nothing but warm food...
Fresh flowers...
And a love that asked for nothing in return.
...
Hidden from sight...
Orm continued existing like a ghost.
Close enough to protect Lingling.
Too far away to be loved.
Whenever Lingling attended therapy, Orm would quietly wait outside the building.
Never entering.
Never interrupting.
Never allowing herself to be seen.
She simply sat inside the car...
Watching the entrance.
Making sure Lingling never missed a session.
Making sure she arrived safely.
Making sure she left safely.
That alone was enough.
Lingling's mother had personally introduced Orm to the therapist.
She had arranged separate appointments for Orm as well.
Not because Orm wanted them.
But because someone finally realized that while everyone was trying to save Lingling...
No one had stopped to ask who was saving Orm.
Each session ended almost the same way.
"There are small improvements."
The therapist would offer a gentle smile.
"She smiles a little more now."
"She's becoming more comfortable."
"She's beginning to find pieces of herself again."
Those words became the only sunlight in Orm's endless winter.
Yet before every session ended...
The therapist always looked at Orm with the same quiet concern.
"You have to take care of yourself too."
"You need to eat."
"You need to sleep."
"You need to live."
Orm would simply smile.
A tired...
Broken...
Almost lifeless smile.
"I'll try."
The therapist sighed softly.
"When Lingling finally finds herself again..."
She paused.
"...she'll need to find you too."
"So don't disappear before that day comes."
That sentence stayed with Orm for weeks.
Because the truth was...
She had already been disappearing for years.
Little by little.
Day by day.
Until there was almost nothing left of her.
During one session, Orm finally spoke about the things she had buried inside for nearly four years.
Things she had never told anyone.
Not even herself.
She admitted that the day she stood at the altar...
The day she looked at Sean and whispered,
"I do..."
...a part of her died.
Not because Sean had been a bad man.
He wasn't.
He had loved her sincerely.
He had given her kindness.
Respect.
Patience.
He deserved someone who could love him completely.
But Orm...
Her heart had already belonged to someone else.
Even while wearing a wedding gown...
Even while smiling for the guests...
Even while promising forever...
Every beat of her heart had still been calling one name.
Lingling.
She confessed that she had convinced herself marrying Sean was the right thing to do.