Chapter 1 - The Past

ORM'S POV

Orm slammed the door of her father's office, her chest rising and falling with frustration. Oct was already standing behind his desk, arms crossed, watching her like a storm about to hit.

"You can't just leave like that! Because you are overwhelmed!" Oct's voice boomed through the room.

Orm groaned, throwing her bag onto the chair. "Oh, come on, Dad! I needed a break, for Christ's sake! I've been working non-stop because you told me to. Can't you see I'm drowning with all these responsibilities you're throwing at me?"

Oct's expression darkened. "I never opposed your relationship with that girl. I didn't stop you from partying, from wasting time doing whatever you wanted. But this—this is the only thing I've ever asked you to do. To focus here."

Orm clenched her fists. "What do you want me to do, Dad, huh? This is suffocating!" She rubbed her temples, exhaustion creeping into her voice.

From the corner of the room, Koy, her mother, let out a quiet sob. She had been standing there the whole time, silently witnessing the fight between father and daughter.

"I'm tired, Mom." Orm's voice softened, but the weight of her exhaustion was clear.

She turned away, storming out of the office and heading to her bedroom. As soon as she shut the door, she collapsed into the chair by her desk, burying her face in her hands.

Her phone buzzed on the table. She picked it up, already knowing who it was.

Lingling.

She had unread messages—dozens of them. Orm had been avoiding opening them for days now, but her thumb hesitated over the screen before finally tapping on their chat.

Miss you. When are you coming back?

Hey, I haven't heard from you in a while. Are you okay?

Baby?

Orm swallowed hard. Lingling had always been patient with her, always understanding. But how much longer would that last?

She leaned back, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on her. The company. Her father. The expectations. And Lingling—Lingling, who was waiting for her, but for how long?

She wanted to go back. She wanted to drop everything and fly to Bangkok. But could she?

Taking a shaky breath, she typed out a message.

Ling, I'm sorry. Things are complicated right now. I don't know when I can come back.

She stared at the words, hating how empty they felt. How unfair they were. She hesitated, then added one more thing.

I miss you.

Her finger hovered over the send button. And then—she pressed it.

_________

Orm barely slept for weeks. Each day felt heavier than the last, but she still tried to send a message to Lingling whenever she could—short, vague texts that never fully conveyed how much she missed her.

Hope you're doing okay.

Been busy, I'll call soon.

Thinking of you.

But the calls never came. She always meant to, but something always got in the way—meetings, deadlines, hospital visits. And then, one night, everything shattered.

Another argument. Another fight with her father.

"You always think running away is an option?" Oct's voice was sharp, his hands slamming against the desk. "This is your responsibility, Orm! You can't just abandon this company whenever it gets too hard!"

Orm's head pounded. "I never wanted this, Dad! You keep throwing everything at me like I asked for it! I just—" She stopped, her breath shaking. "I just wanted to live my life..."

Oct opened his mouth to argue, but then—he staggered. His face twisted in pain. A gasp, a hand clutching his chest.

"Dad?" Orm's stomach dropped. "Dad—"

Before she could reach him, Oct collapsed.

Panic surged through her veins. "Help! Someone help!"

She fumbled for her phone, dialing emergency services with trembling hands. The next moments were a blur—paramedics rushing in, her mother crying, sirens wailing. And then the cold, sterile walls of the hospital.

She sat in the waiting room, fingers gripping her hair, mind racing with guilt. This is my fault.

If she hadn't argued, if she had just stayed quiet, would this have happened?

When the doctor finally came out, his expression was serious but calm. "He's stable for now, but he needs rest. Stress is a major factor. He can't afford any more."

Orm nodded numbly.

Everything changed after that night.

With her father confined to a hospital bed, the weight of the company fully fell on Orm's shoulders. She didn't have a choice anymore. She stepped into every meeting, reviewed every deal, made every decision.

Days turned into weeks.

Orm barely had time to eat, let alone think about anything outside of work.

And Lingling—

At first, Lingling still sent messages.

Haven't heard from you. Are you okay?

Orm, if something's wrong, talk to me.

I miss you.

Orm read every single one but never had the energy to respond.

Eventually, the messages became less frequent.

The moment she heard about Orm's father, the messages came nonstop.

Orm, I just heard. Are you okay?

Please call me, I'm worried.

Orm, answer me.

I don't care how busy you are. Just tell me you're okay.

Orm read them all. Every single one. But she never responded.

She wanted to. God, she wanted to.

But every time she picked up her phone, the same thoughts paralyzed her.

This is my fault.

If she hadn't argued with her father that night, if she had just accepted her responsibilities without fighting back, none of this would have happened. He wouldn't be in a hospital bed, frail and weak. He wouldn't have suffered because of her.

So she threw herself into work. She did everything she could to keep the company running, to fix the mess she believed she had made. The guilt consumed her, and in the process, she let go of everything else.

Including Lingling.

Weeks passed. The texts from Lingling changed. They became more frantic at first—then more distant.

I don't understand why you're shutting me out.

I know you're hurting, but I'm here. Let me be here for you.

I went there to be there for you but I understand why you felt that way.

But Orm... please don't do this.

Orm stared at that last message for a long time.

Her hands trembled as she gripped her phone.

Did she want Lingling out of her life? No. Never.

But how could she drag her into this? Into her world of guilt, responsibility, and exhaustion?

She had already ruined things with her father. She refused to do the same with Lingling.

So she did the only thing she thought was right.

She put her phone down.

And she let Lingling go.

___________

LINGLING'S POV

The flight back to Bangkok was suffocating. Lingling sat by the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her phone gripped in one hand. She had tried one last time before takeoff.

Lingling: I don't know what's going on, but if you need time, I'll wait. Just... please don't shut me out like this.

She stared at the screen until the flight attendant asked her to switch her phone to airplane mode. With a heavy heart, she complied, resting her head against the cold window.

But even as she flew thousands of feet above the ground, her mind stayed behind in China—with Orm, with the last glance she barely received, with the words left unspoken.

The moment she landed, she turned her phone back on.

No new messages. No missed calls.

Nothing.

Still, she clung to hope.

Orm had always been stubborn. Maybe she just needed more time.

Lingling tried to be patient.

Every day, she checked her phone, her heart leaping at every notification only to be disappointed when it wasn't Orm.

She kept telling herself, She'll come back. She loves me. She just needs space.

But as weeks passed, reality started to sink in.

Orm was choosing to stay silent.

At first, Lingling refused to believe it. She replayed every moment they had together, trying to pinpoint where things went wrong.

Had she done something? Said something?

Was Orm just overwhelmed?

Or... had she simply stopped loving her?

That thought hurt the most.

She tried to move on. She threw herself into her studies, took extra shifts at work, anything to keep herself distracted. But at night, when she was alone in her tiny apartment, the weight of heartbreak pressed down on her chest.

There were nights when she barely slept, tears soaking her pillow.

There were mornings when she woke up feeling empty, like something inside her had been carved out and thrown away.

And worst of all, there were moments—fleeting, painful moments—where she reached for her phone to text Orm... only to remember that Orm had already made her choice.

One evening, after an exhausting day, Lingling sat in bed, staring at her phone.

Her fingers hovered over Orm's name, tempted to send one last message.

But what was the point?

She had begged. She had waited. She had hoped.

And Orm had given her nothing.

With a deep, trembling breath, Lingling did something she never thought she'd do.

She deleted the chat.

A tear slipped down her cheek, but she wiped it away.

This is it, she told herself. No more waiting. No more wondering.

Years passed, and the pain dulled into something bearable.

Lingling stood on stage, the weight of her hard work finally paying off as she accepted her diploma.

She had done it.

She had built a future for herself—without Orm.

Her friends cheered. Her parents beamed with pride.

But as she looked out into the crowd, she felt an emptiness she couldn't ignore.

Because once upon a time, she had imagined Orm being here.

Cheering for her. Holding her. Telling her how proud she was.

But Orm wasn't there.

And Lingling had to accept that she never would be again.