Chapter 17 No More Pretending #3
Ling's hand came up to Orm's cheek as she kissed her back.
The kiss was warm and familiar, yet somehow completely new.
Because this time they knew exactly what it meant.
When they separated, Orm rested her forehead against Ling's.
"You know something?"
"What?"
"I used to hate you."
Ling smiled.
"I know."
"Really hate you."
"I remember."
"You criticised my proposal."
"It needed work."
Orm pulled back.
"You're ruining the moment."
Ling laughed.
"I'm sorry."
"No, you're not."
"Not really."
Orm shook her head.
Then smiled.
"I think that's when I started falling for you."
Ling looked surprised.
"That early?"
"Maybe."
"Why?"
Orm shrugged.
"Because you challenged me."
She touched Ling's hand.
"And because underneath all that terrifying executive director energy, you cared."
Ling looked at her.
"I did."
"I know."
Silence.
Then Orm smiled.
"We're really doing this."
Ling nodded.
"No more pretending."
"No more pretending."
"No more rules."
Ling smiled.
"Maybe a few."
Orm narrowed her eyes.
"What rules?"
Ling thought.
"Don't steal my coffee."
Orm laughed.
"Absolutely not."
"Then I'm keeping the rule."
"You can't control me anymore."
Ling smiled.
"Who said I wanted to?"
Orm leaned closer.
"Good."
She kissed her again.
?
Later that night, they sat on the balcony.
Bangkok glittered beneath them.
Orm leaned against Ling.
Ling held her hand.
Neither spoke for a while.
They didn't need to.
The silence between them no longer felt like something that needed to be filled.
It was comfortable.
Safe.
Real.
Eventually, Orm said,
"I was scared you wouldn't come after me."
Ling looked at her.
"I was scared I wouldn't be brave enough."
"You were."
"Eventually."
Orm smiled.
"That's what matters."
Ling looked toward the city.
"I spent so much time thinking I had to protect myself from love."
"And now?"
Ling looked at her.
"Now I think love is worth the risk."
Orm smiled.
"Good answer."
"I've had practice."
"From whom?"
Ling squeezed her hand.
"You."
Orm rested her head against Ling's shoulder.
"I'll keep teaching you."
Ling laughed softly.
"I don't think I'll ever graduate."
"Good."
"Why?"
"Because then you'll have to stay."
Ling looked down at her.
"I wasn't planning on going anywhere."
Orm smiled.
Neither was she.
For the first time, there was no contract determining how long they belonged beside each other.
No campaign deadline.
No fake relationship clause.
No public relations strategy.
No reason to perform.
There was only a choice.
Every day.
Every morning.
Every difficult conversation.
Every argument.
Every laugh.
Every goodbye at an airport.
Every reunion.
Every ordinary moment.
They would choose each other.
And perhaps that was what made it real.
Not that they had finally said I love you.
But that they were willing to keep saying it after the cameras were gone.
After the campaign ended.
After the excitement faded.
After life became ordinary again.
Ling looked at Orm.
Orm looked back.
"You know what?"
"What?"
"I think I finally understand the last rule."
Orm smiled.
"What rule?"
"No falling in love."
Ling shook her head.
"It was never really a rule."
Orm frowned.
"What was it?"
Ling lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.
"A warning."
Orm smiled.
"And we ignored it."
"Completely."
"Do you regret it?"
Ling didn't even need to think.
"Never."
Orm leaned closer.
"Good."
Ling wrapped her arms around her.
The city continued moving below them.
Cars travelled along distant roads.
Lights flickered in buildings.
People lived their ordinary lives, unaware that somewhere above them, two women who had once been paid to pretend they were in love had finally stopped pretending.
And perhaps there was something fitting about that.
Because the greatest love stories were rarely born from perfect circumstances.
Sometimes they began with misunderstandings.
With irritation.
With arguments.
With two people insisting they didn't care.
Sometimes they began with a contract and a list of rules designed to prevent exactly what eventually happened.
Sometimes love arrived quietly, hidden inside ordinary things.
A stolen cup of coffee.
A late-night message.
A hand held a little too tightly.
A laugh that made someone stay longer than they intended.
A glance held for one second too long.
And sometimes, after all the fear and all the running and all the pretending, love simply waited for someone to become brave enough to say it.
Ling had finally become brave.
She had finally stopped hiding.
And Orm had finally stopped wondering whether she was loved.
There was no audience now.
No one to impress.
No campaign to save.
No contract to fulfil.
Only two hands intertwined beneath the Bangkok night.
Two hearts that had somehow found each other despite everything.
And two women who had finally understood the simplest truth of all.
They had never been pretending.
They had only been pretending that they weren't in love.