Chapter 9 Almost #2
"Because you were so sure of yourself."
Ling frowned.
"I'm not always sure."
"You looked like you were."
Orm smiled.
"You walked into that room when I presented my proposal and I thought, This woman is going to hate everything I say."
"I didn't hate it."
"You dismantled half of it."
"It wasn't personal."
"I know that now."
Ling nodded.
Orm looked at her.
"But back then, I thought you didn't like me."
"I didn't know you."
"Exactly."
Ling looked away.
"Maybe I was too harsh."
"You were."
"I'm sorry."
Orm blinked.
The apology was so unexpected that she didn't know how to respond.
"You don't have to apologise."
"I want to."
Orm smiled.
"Okay."
Ling looked at her.
"Okay?"
"Okay."
Another quiet moment passed.
Then Orm asked,
"Why were you so harsh?"
Ling was silent.
Orm almost told her she didn't have to answer.
Instead, Ling said,
"I was afraid."
Orm's eyebrows drew together.
"Of me?"
"No."
"Then what?"
Ling looked toward the window.
"Of trusting people."
The warmth in the room seemed to disappear.
Orm set her cup down.
"What happened?"
Ling didn't answer immediately.
Her eyes remained fixed on the city.
Then she said,
"There was someone before Veyra."
Orm stayed quiet.
"I loved him."
The sentence hurt more than Orm expected.
She wasn't sure why.
Perhaps because hearing Ling say the words made the past suddenly real.
Ling continued.
"He was the first person I trusted completely."
She smiled faintly.
"At the time, I thought that was what love was supposed to feel like. Like finally finding somewhere you didn't have to be careful."
Orm listened.
"He knew everything about me."
Her voice was steady.
"Things I'd never told anyone else. My fears. My family problems. My ambitions. The things that made me insecure. The things I was ashamed of."
She paused.
"I gave him everything."
Orm swallowed.
"And he hurt you."
Ling nodded.
"Not all at once."
That somehow made the story more painful.
"It started small. Little lies. Little things I ignored because I didn't want to believe they mattered."
She stared at her hands.
"Then the lies became bigger."
Orm's voice was barely audible.
"What did he do?"
Ling's jaw tightened.
"He made me feel like I was difficult to love."
Orm's heart broke.
"He'd tell me I was too independent. Too ambitious. Too stubborn. Too emotional when I disagreed with him. Then whenever I tried to explain myself, he'd tell me I was overreacting."
She laughed softly.
"I eventually started questioning my own reactions."
Orm's hands curled into fists.
"That's not love."
"I know that now."
"But you didn't then."
"No."
Ling looked at her.
"That's why I stayed."
Orm couldn't find anything to say.
Ling continued.
"I kept thinking that if I became easier to love, he'd stop hurting me."
Orm's eyes softened.
"You shouldn't have had to change."
"I know."
"You deserved better."
Ling looked away.
"Maybe."
"No. Not maybe."
Orm's voice was firmer now.
"You did."
Ling looked at her.
Something flickered in her expression.
Pain.
Gratitude.
Fear.
Perhaps all three.
"After we ended, I decided I would never let anyone have that much access to me again."
"So you built walls."
"Yes."
"And Veyra became your fortress."
Ling smiled faintly.
"Something like that."
Orm laughed softly.
"That explains a lot."
"What?"
"Why everyone is terrified of you."
"Everyone?"
"Pretty much."
Ling smiled.
"Are you?"
Orm looked at her.
"I was."
"And now?"
Orm hesitated.
"I'm not sure."
Ling's eyes stayed on hers.
"Why?"
Orm looked down.
"Because I know what's underneath."
Ling's expression softened.
"Do you?"
"More than I did before."
?
The clock on the wall moved past twelve thirty.
Neither mentioned it.
They had crossed into that strange territory where time seemed to lose its meaning.
Ling rested her elbows on the counter.
"I don't talk about this."
"I know."
"I haven't told anyone at Veyra."
Orm nodded.
"Then why tell me?"
Ling looked at her.
"I don't know."
Orm smiled faintly.
"Maybe you trust me."
Ling looked away.
"Maybe."
The word was almost inaudible.
Orm felt something shift inside her.
She wanted to reach across the small distance between them.
She wanted to touch Ling's hand.
She didn't.
The rules.
The rules were supposed to protect them.
No unnecessary touching.
No jealousy.
No falling in love.
No pretending the feelings were real.
Except none of the rules had anticipated this.
Two people sitting in an empty office after midnight, talking about wounds neither of them showed during daylight.
Orm looked at Ling.
"You don't have to pretend with me."
Ling's eyes lifted.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Orm..."
"I'm serious."
Ling shook her head.
"You don't understand."
"Then help me understand."
Ling's expression tightened.
"If I stop pretending, I don't know what happens."
Orm's heart beat faster.
"Maybe that's the point."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to lose control."
Orm stared at her.
"You're afraid."
Ling looked away.
"Yes."
The honesty stunned her.
Ling continued.
"I'm afraid that if I let myself care about someone again, I'll give them the same power."
Orm shook her head.
"I'm not him."
"I know."
"You do?"
"Yes."
"Then why are you afraid of me?"
Ling looked at her.
"Because you're not him."
Orm's breath caught.
Ling continued softly.
"That's exactly why."
?
The words stayed between them.
Orm didn't know what to say.
She had spent so much time thinking of Ling as fearless that hearing her admit fear felt almost intimate enough to hurt.
"You don't have to give me anything," Orm said.
Ling looked at her.
"I'm not asking you to trust me with everything."
She paused.
"I'm just saying you don't have to hide from me."
Ling's eyes softened.
"I don't know how."
"Then we'll figure it out."
"We?"
Orm swallowed.
"I mean..."
Ling waited.
Orm laughed nervously.
"I don't know what I mean."
"That's honest."
"Don't tease me."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Ling smiled.
Then the smile faded.
She looked at Orm for a long moment.
"You're different."
Orm's heart skipped.
"How?"
"You don't ask me to be anything."
Orm didn't know what to say.
Ling continued.
"Everyone at Veyra expects something from me. Clients expect results. Employees expect decisions. Executives expect control."
She looked at Orm.
"You just look at me."
Orm smiled faintly.
"Maybe I like what I see."
Ling went still.
Orm immediately realised what she had said.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't."
Ling's voice was quiet.
"Don't apologise."
Orm looked at her.
Their eyes met.
The distance between them suddenly felt much smaller.
?
They left the kitchenette.
Neither suggested going home.
They returned to the creative department, but instead of going back to their desks, they stopped near the windows.
The city below was quieter now.
Orm rested her hands against the glass.
"I used to think you were cold."
Ling stood beside her.
"I am."
"No."
"Yes."
"You're not."
Ling smiled.
"You've seen me with children."
"And animals."
Ling laughed.
"You really liked that dog."
"It liked you."
"It did."
"It had good judgment."
Ling looked at her.
"You said that."
"I was right."
Ling smiled.
The silence returned.
Orm turned toward her.
Ling was already looking at her.
Neither moved.
There was something different in Ling's expression.
No teasing.
No professional distance.
No carefully controlled smile.
Just vulnerability.
Orm's heartbeat became loud enough that she was certain Ling could hear it.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Ling didn't answer.
Orm's breath caught.
"Remember our rule?"
Ling's lips curved faintly.
"Which one?"
"Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
Orm stared.
She remembered this conversation.
The exact words.
The rule she had created.
The question Ling had asked.
And now she finally understood why she had been unable to answer.
Because there had never been a name for the way Ling looked at her.
It wasn't simply affection.
It wasn't friendship.
It wasn't pretending.
It was something that frightened both of them.
Orm whispered,
"Like you want to say something."
Ling's eyes dropped briefly.
Then returned to hers.
"I do."
"What?"
Ling didn't answer.
Orm's heart pounded.
"Tell me."
Ling took a small breath.
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because if I say it..."
She stopped.
Orm waited.
Ling looked away.
"Then it becomes real."
Orm's voice softened.
"Maybe it already is."
Ling looked at her.
Neither moved.
Orm could see every small detail of her expression now.
The tiredness around her eyes.
The uncertainty.
The fear.
And something else.
Something warm.
Something that looked dangerously like hope.
Orm took one small step closer.
Ling didn't move away.
Another.
Now there was barely any space between them.
Orm could feel the warmth of Ling's breath.
Neither spoke.
The world outside disappeared.
There was only the quiet office.
The city lights.
The faint hum of the air-conditioning.
And the two of them standing far too close to something they had spent weeks trying not to name.
Orm's voice was barely a whisper.
"Ling."
Ling closed her eyes for half a second.
When she opened them, something had changed.
She looked at Orm's lips.
Orm noticed.
Her breath caught.
Ling's hand lifted slightly.
For one terrifyingly beautiful second, Orm thought she might touch her.
But Ling stopped herself.
Her hand fell.
Neither moved.
Orm didn't know whether she was disappointed or relieved.
Probably both.
Then Ling whispered,
"We should stop."
Orm stared at her.
"Why?"
Ling didn't answer.
The question hung between them.
Orm searched her face.
"Why?"
Still nothing.
"Because of the campaign?"
Ling shook her head.
"No."
"Because of the rules?"
Another small shake.
"No."
"Then why?"
Ling looked at her.