Chapter 2 - Present Time

Lingling's POV

The morning sunlight filtered through the bedroom window as Lingling stood in front of her vanity, securing the last button of her crisp white blouse. She adjusted the navy-blue blazer over it, making sure the golden wings above her name tag were perfectly aligned. Her dark hair was neatly styled into a sleek bun—tidy, professional, and elegant.

She leaned in closer to the mirror, applying a soft touch of makeup. Not too much, just enough to keep her looking fresh and polished for the long flights ahead.

Just as she reached for her perfume, warm arms wrapped around her waist from behind. Soft lips pressed against the sensitive skin of her neck, sending a familiar shiver down her spine.

"How long will you be gone this time?" Woman's groggy voice murmured against her skin.

Lingling smiled, meeting the woman's playful gaze through the mirror. "A week," she answered. "Let me know if something urgent comes up at the office or if I need to handle anything remotely. Nene knows what to do."

The other woman groaned dramatically, tightening her embrace. "A whole week without you? That's cruel."

Lingling chuckled, turning in other woman's arms to face her. "You'll survive," she teased, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "Just promise me one thing."

She smirked. "Anything."

Lingling narrowed her eyes. "Don't turn my condo into a disaster while I'm gone."

The woman gasped in mock offense. "Me? A disaster? Never."

Lingling rolled her eyes. "Last time, I came home to an explosion of clothes, empty takeout boxes, and wine bottles everywhere."

The other woman pouted. "That's just how creative people function."

"You're a lawyer, not an artist."

"Same thing," she argued, leaning in to steal another kiss.

Lingling laughed but gently pushed her away. "I really have to go now, Char. See you in a week."

Charlotte sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. "Fine. Just don't go falling for some charming French woman while you're in Paris."

Lingling smirked. "No promises."

Charlotte groaned as Lingling grabbed her suitcase and car keys, flashing her one last smile before stepping out of the condo.

On her way to the airport. Lingling tapped her fingers against the steering wheel as she navigated through Bangkok's morning traffic. The radio played softly in the background, but she wasn't really listening.

A whole week of flying. Tokyo, Paris, then home.

She loved her job. She had worked hard to get here. The freedom, the adventure, the sense of accomplishment—it was everything she had wanted.

So why did she feel a strange emptiness creeping in?

Maybe it was just the exhaustion. Maybe it was the long hours catching up to her.

Or maybe... it was something else.

A name she hadn't thought of in a long time.

Lingling gripped the wheel tighter, shaking her head. No. She wasn't going to do this. Not now.

She had moved on.

At the Airport

The airport buzzed with life—passengers rushing to their gates, announcements echoing through the speakers, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Lingling adjusted her blazer as she walked through the terminal, her suitcase rolling smoothly behind her.

She spotted her work friends near a café, all dressed in their crisp uniforms, chatting and sipping their morning drinks.

Junji, one of her closest work friends, noticed her first and smirked. "Well, well, look who's here. Surprisingly, you're early."

Lingling scoffed and took the empty seat beside her. "I'm always early." She grabbed a menu and casually glanced through it. "It's going to be a whole damn week. Might as well start it right."

Junji sighed dramatically. "Ugh, tell me about it. A week away from Mario? Torture."

Lingling rolled her eyes playfully. "You act like you won't be FaceTiming him every five minutes."

Junji smirked. "Obviously. But still, I'd rather be in his arms than stuck in a different time zone." She sipped her coffee before eyeing Lingling with a curious smile. "Speaking of relationships, how's everything with Miss Attorney?"

Lingling leaned back in her seat and shrugged. "Same, same."

Junji arched an eyebrow. "You two have been seeing each other for months? Years? and you still don't call it a relationship?"

Lingling took a slow sip of her coffee before answering. "I need sex. She needs sex. Just a mutual need. Nothing more."

Junji groaned. "Ling, seriously?"

"What?" Lingling smirked. "It works for us."

Junji shook her head. "You're impossible. But hey, good luck with that. Hope you don't catch feelings."

Lingling shrugged as she checked the time. "Feelings require effort. And I'm too busy for that."

Junji sighed but didn't argue further.

Their flight briefing was about to start, and soon, they'd be up in the air, soaring across continents.

But as Lingling gathered her things, a fleeting thought crossed her mind—one she quickly shoved aside.

Because no matter how much she claimed she was too busy for feelings, there was a name buried deep in her past that still had the power to make her heart ache.

Orm.

Lingling took a deep breath, shook off the thought, and walked toward her crew.

It was just another flight. Another week.

And she had long since learned how to leave the past behind.

________

Orm's POV

Orm gazed out of the hotel balcony, overlooking the beautiful city of Paris bathed in golden sunset hues. The Eiffel Tower stood proudly in the distance, its lights beginning to twinkle against the evening sky. She took a deep breath, savoring the crisp Parisian air. It was her birthday, but unlike her past celebrations filled with lavish parties, friends, and endless champagne, tonight was different.

It was just her and her mother.

Ever since her father passed away three years ago, Orm had taken over the company completely, dedicating herself to expanding the empire her father built. Parties, social gatherings, and meaningless relationships had long faded into the background. Her world was now filled with board meetings, international business trips, and keeping the company afloat.

Her mother, Koy, stepped out onto the balcony, holding two glasses of wine. She handed one to Orm and smiled softly. "Happy birthday, my love."

Orm clinked her glass against her mother's and took a small sip. "Thank you, Ma."

Koy studied her daughter's face, sadness flickering in her eyes. "You've changed, Orm."

Orm sighed, resting her arms against the balcony railing. "I had to, Ma. There was no choice. If I don't take care of the company, who will?"

Her mother reached for her hand. "I know, sweetheart. And I am so proud of you. But sometimes, I wonder if you've forgotten how to be happy."

Orm forced a small smile. "I'm fine, Mom. Really."

Koy shook her head. "Fine is not happy."

They spent the day strolling around the streets of Paris, visiting boutiques, and indulging in fine dining. Orm bought her mother anything she wanted, knowing that material things were the only way she could show love now. She was no longer the reckless girl she used to be. She had responsibilities.

But as they sat at a cozy restaurant near the Seine River, watching the boats pass by, something felt... off.

Orm had everything. Power, wealth, success. And yet, there was a lingering emptiness she couldn't quite shake.

And for the first time in a long time, an old memory resurfaced.

A girl with a radiant smile, warm hands, and eyes that once looked at her like she was the center of the universe.

Orm inhaled sharply and pushed the thought away. No. She had buried that part of her life a long time ago.

Days had passed and they needed to go back home. Orm sat in the airport lounge, sipping her coffee while her mother scrolled through her phone beside her. The quiet hum of travelers and the occasional announcements filled the air. She had always found airport lounges comforting—perhaps because they reminded her of something. Or someone.

She sighed and shook off the thought.

"Orm, when we get home, I'll cook your favorite foods," her mother said cheerfully, nudging her arm.

Orm smiled. "I'm looking forward to it, Mom"

Their flight was finally called for boarding, and Orm instinctively held her mother's hand as they made their way to the gate. The familiarity of routine settled in—boarding passes, security checks, and the familiar scent of luxury airline interiors.

But the moment they stepped onto the plane, time seemed to stop.

There she was.

Lingling.

Standing there in her crisp uniform, her dark hair neatly pulled back, her eyes bright with a professional yet distant smile.

Lingling took Orm's boarding pass with the same warmth she greeted every passenger. "Sawadee Kha, Ms. Sethratanapong. You're in Zone A. Please proceed to your left," she said politely, handing the pass back as if Orm were just another traveler.

Orm barely heard the words.

She was too stunned to speak.

Her mother, Koy, inhaled sharply beside her, clearly just as shocked. But Lingling? She was composed, graceful—unshaken.

It was as if Orm was a complete stranger.

Orm stepped aside slowly, her mind racing. How could Lingling act so... indifferent? As if they had never known each other? As if she hadn't once been the person Orm loved most? She's not expecting for a warm welcome or Hello. But Lingling seems to be a different person. I made her that. I should not be surprise. Orm told to herself.

Her mother gave her a knowing glance but said nothing, simply taking her hand again and gently leading her toward their seats.

As Orm sat down and buckled her seatbelt, her fingers clenched tightly around the boarding pass.

For years, she had avoided thinking about Lingling. She had buried the past beneath layers of work, responsibilities, and distractions.

But now?

Now, the past was standing right in front of her. Smiling. Unaffected.

And that, more than anything, terrified her.