Chapter 20 Until We Stop Pretending #3
Ling kissed her hair.
"Good."
They stayed there.
The night was warm.
A breeze moved through the balcony.
Somewhere below, a car horn sounded.
Someone laughed in the street.
Life continued.
Ordinary.
Beautiful.
Real.
Orm looked up.
"Do you ever think about what would have happened if we had followed every rule?"
Ling considered it.
"We'd probably still be arguing."
Orm laughed.
"Probably."
"You'd still think I'm intimidating."
"I still think you're intimidating."
Ling raised an eyebrow.
"Really?"
"Sometimes."
"Why?"
"Because you're very serious."
"I'm not always serious."
"No."
"When am I not?"
Orm smiled.
"When you're with me."
Ling looked at her.
"Maybe you're the reason."
Orm's expression softened.
"Maybe."
Ling leaned down.
Their lips met.
Slowly.
Gently.
There was no urgency.
No fear.
No need to prove anything.
Just love.
When they separated, Orm whispered,
"I like us."
Ling smiled.
"I love us."
Orm laughed.
"That's even better."
"Yes."
She pulled Orm closer.
"Do you know what I like most?"
"What?"
"That nobody can tell us what this is anymore."
Orm smiled.
"They tried."
"They did."
"And we listened."
"At first."
Orm laughed.
"At first."
Ling looked at her.
"Then we stopped."
"Why?"
"Because we realised we knew better."
Orm kissed her cheek.
"That's very romantic."
"I'm trying."
"You are."
They laughed.
?
Time passed.
Not dramatically.
Not with grand transformations.
It passed in small moments.
Mornings when Ling woke first and watched Orm sleep.
Evenings when Orm stole Ling's coffee.
Weekends spent grocery shopping and arguing about what to cook.
Late nights when one of them couldn't sleep and the other stayed awake.
Workdays when they sent each other ridiculous messages.
Days when they disagreed.
Days when they apologized.
Days when they laughed until their stomachs hurt.
There were no longer rules.
There didn't need to be.
There were only choices.
And every day, they chose each other.
Sometimes loudly.
Sometimes quietly.
Sometimes with a kiss.
Sometimes with coffee left on the table.
Sometimes with a hand reaching across the bed in the middle of the night.
Sometimes with nothing more than a look.
The kind of look that had once terrified them.
The kind of look Orm had once told Ling not to give her.
Now she welcomed it.
Now she understood it.
It meant:
I'm here.
It meant:
I see you.
It meant:
You are mine to love, and I am yours to love.
Not possession.
Not control.
Choice.
Always choice.
?
One year after the day they first met, Orm found herself standing in the same café where their first real date had happened.
She had planned everything.
Or at least she thought she had.
Ling arrived late.
Five minutes.
Orm looked at her watch.
"You're late."
"I know."
"Why?"
"I bought something."
"What?"
Ling handed her a small paper bag.
Orm opened it.
Inside was a pastry.
Her favourite.
Orm smiled.
"You bribed me."
"Yes."
"Successful."
"I knew it."
They sat down.
Orm looked around.
"One year."
Ling smiled.
"One year."
"Can you believe it?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"No."
They laughed.
Orm reached across the table.
Ling took her hand.
"Do you remember our first date?"
"Yes."
"You were terrible at it."
Ling raised an eyebrow.
"I was?"
"You were."
"You talked too much."
"You were nervous."
"I was not."
"You were."
Ling smiled.
"And you couldn't decide what to order."
"Because I wanted you to like me."
Ling's expression softened.
"You didn't have to try."
"I know that now."
They looked at each other.
The café was busy.
People came and went.
Nobody paid attention.
And that was perfect.
Orm squeezed Ling's hand.
"I'm glad we didn't follow the rules."
Ling smiled.
"So am I."
?
After coffee, they walked through the same streets.
They found the same bookstore.
The same little shop.
The same park.
They even looked for the orange cat.
He wasn't there.
Orm looked disappointed.
Ling laughed.
"He's probably somewhere else judging people."
"I miss him."
"You met him once."
"We had a connection."
"Of course."
They sat on the same bench.
Orm leaned against Ling.
"Do you remember what you told me that day?"
"What?"
"That you liked real."
Ling smiled.
"I remember."
"I didn't understand then."
"And now?"
Orm looked at her.
"Now I do."
Ling waited.
Orm took her hand.
"Real isn't always easy."
"No."
"Sometimes it's messy."
"Yes."
"Sometimes we hurt each other."
"Yes."
"Sometimes we're scared."
"Yes."
"But real means we stay and talk about it."
Ling's eyes softened.
"Yes."
Orm smiled.
"And real means I can wake up next to you and know that I'm not waking up from a dream."
Ling kissed her forehead.
"Exactly."
?
They went home before sunset.
Orm opened the old box.
The torn contract was still there.
She took it out.
Ling watched.
"Why are you looking at it again?"
"Because I was thinking."
"That's dangerous."
Orm laughed.
She unfolded the pieces as best she could.
The paper was creased.
The edges were torn.
The words were incomplete.
But the final rule was still visible.
NO FALLING IN LOVE.
Orm smiled.
"Do you think we should actually frame it?"
Ling looked at her.
"You haven't given up on that?"
"No."
Ling sighed dramatically.
"Fine."
Orm's face lit up.
"Really?"
"Yes."
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Somewhere private."
Orm nodded.
"Bedroom?"
Ling smiled.
"Absolutely not."
"Living room?"
"Maybe."