Chapter 3 - Silent Encounter

Lingling had braced herself for the worst.

She knew Orm. Or at least, she knew the Orm from before—the one who wouldn't hesitate to approach her, to invade her space, to demand her attention with her usual relentless charm.

But none of that happened.

Orm didn't follow her. Didn't call out her name. Didn't try to force a conversation.

She just... stayed in her seat.

Lingling had expected a confrontation, a sarcastic remark, a teasing smirk—anything but this silence.

As she returned to the flight attendants' station, she took a moment to glance toward Orm's seat. Her face was unreadable, her eyes glued to her laptop screen like any other business-class passenger.

For some reason, that stung.

Lingling let out a quiet sigh, shaking off the strange feeling creeping up on her. She was over this. Over Orm. The past was the past.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Orm pressing the service button.

Before Lingling could react, Junji was already making her way down the aisle.

"What can I get you, ma'am?" Junji asked politely.

Orm didn't even look up. "Vodka. Two glasses."

Junji nodded, quickly returning to the galley to grab the drinks. Lingling pretended not to listen, but she found herself gripping the counter just a little too tightly.

Why two? Was she drinking for someone else?

No. Of course not. Orm always drank like that when she was stressed.

When Junji returned with the drinks, she placed them on Orm's tray table and asked if she needed anything else.

Orm simply shook her head. "No. Thank you."

Lingling watched as Orm picked up one of the glasses and took a slow sip.

Still, she never once looked her way.

And somehow, that unsettled Lingling more than if Orm had caused a scene.

____________

Orm tried to focus on the numbers flashing on her laptop screen, on the emails piling up, on anything but the woman a few feet away from her.

But she couldn't.

No matter how hard she tried, her eyes kept betraying her, stealing glances at Lingling as she moved through the cabin. She carried herself with such grace, such professionalism—so different from the girl Orm once knew.

Say hi.

The thought came uninvited.

Just say hi, Orm. Talk to her. Apologize. Beg if you have to.

But no.

Why would it even matter now?

Orm clenched her jaw, taking another sip of her vodka. She told herself she had no right. She was the one who walked away, the one who left Lingling in the dark, the one who never even had the decency to explain.

She abandoned her.

She gripped the glass tighter, staring at the swirling liquid as if it could drown the guilt still clawing at her chest.

She exhaled sharply and forced herself to look away from Lingling.

She had no place in Lingling's present anymore.

Orm closed her laptop, sighing as she leaned back against the headrest. The untouched food on her tray remained cold, but she barely noticed until it was removed. Eating felt like a chore, and her appetite had long disappeared the moment she stepped onto this flight.

She adjusted her seat, closing her eyes in an attempt to sleep. It was a long flight, and she needed the rest.

But rest never came peacefully.

Her dreams were filled with fragments of the past—of her father's voice, of the overwhelming pressure, of Lingling's unanswered messages. Then came the familiar scene—her father collapsing in front of her, the helplessness, the guilt that wrapped around her like a vice, suffocating her.

Orm gasped awake, her body jerking forward as she caught her breath. Sweat clung to her skin, her heart hammering against her chest.

She swallowed, pressing a hand against her forehead. Not again.

Taking a deep breath, she unbuckled her seatbelt and quietly made her way to the restroom, hoping to calm herself down.

Inside, she turned on the tap, splashing cold water onto her face. She gripped the edges of the sink, her knuckles turning white as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

Her face was pale. Dark circles sat under her eyes. She looked exhausted.

Orm exhaled shakily, her fingers running through her hair before whispering, "I miss you, Dad."

The silence answered her.

She stayed in the restroom for a few minutes, waiting for her pulse to steady. She didn't want her mother to see her like this—like she was still haunted by the past.

When she finally stepped out, she didn't expect to almost collide with someone.

Lingling.

Her heart stopped for a beat.

Lingling was standing right in front of her, about to enter the restroom. Their eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like time had frozen.

Orm's throat went dry. She didn't know what to say, didn't know what kind of expression she was making.

And then, before she could even think, the words slipped out.

"Sorry."

It was quiet, almost a whisper. Then, without waiting for a response, she stepped past Lingling and walked away.

She couldn't bear to see her reaction.

Lingling, on the other hand, watched Orm's retreating back, frustration bubbling inside her.

"Seriously?" she thought, gripping the restroom door handle.

After all these years, after everything, that was it?

Just sorry? And for what? Almost colliding her or the past?

Lingling had expected her to stir up trouble, to be persistent, to act like the reckless woman she used to be.

But this?

This cold, distant Orm?

It was almost worse.

____________

Orm returned to her seat, exhaling as she checked on her mother. She was still asleep, her face peaceful, oblivious to the storm raging inside her daughter.

Not wanting to dwell on her thoughts, Orm grabbed her laptop and powered it on. She needed to review the latest reports from the company—anything to distract herself.

But even as the screen glowed in front of her, her mind kept drifting back to her.

With a frustrated sigh, she pressed the call button.

A few moments later, she heard footsteps.

And then, as if the universe was taunting her, it was her.

Standing there in her pristine uniform, looking as poised as ever. She didn't flinch, didn't hesitate—just offered Orm a professional, neutral smile.

"How can I help?"

Orm didn't answer right away.

She just stared.

Lingling waited, her face unreadable, then asked again, "Ma'am?" Her voice was calm, polite—like Orm was just another passenger.

The way it stung was ridiculous.

Orm cleared her throat, breaking out of her daze. "I need vodka. Two glasses, please. Thanks."

Lingling nodded, turned on her heel, and walked away.

Orm leaned back, rubbing her temples. She hadn't meant to drink. It was just an excuse—a way to have some sort of interaction, even if it was brief.

But when Lingling returned, Orm blinked in surprise.

Instead of vodka, she placed a glass of orange juice in front of her.

Orm frowned. "Ugh, I need vodka."

Lingling bent down slightly, just enough so their faces were close.

She smiled. That smile. The one that used to drive Orm crazy. The one she hadn't seen in years.

"No, you need juice."

She straightened up, voice still soft but firm. "Or do you want me to get you a coffee? Maybe some milk?"

Orm stared at her, caught between frustration and amusement.

She should argue. She should insist.

But instead, she let out a quiet sigh.

"Juice it is."

Lingling gave her a small nod before walking away, leaving Orm holding the glass, feeling oddly defeated.

With another sigh, Orm leaned back into her seat, taking a sip.

It tasted bittersweet.

____________

Lingling returned to her station, exhaling as she placed the empty tray back in its place.

She could still feel Orm's gaze on her, even as she walked away. It was ridiculous. She hadn't thought about this moment—what she would do if she ever saw Orm again. And yet, here they were.

Junji, of course, had noticed.

"What's the deal with that girl?" Junji asked, nudging Lingling's side.

Lingling didn't answer. She just grabbed a napkin and started folding it, trying to keep herself occupied.

Junji leaned in, lowering her voice. "Seriously, though. She asked for alcohol, and you gave her juice? Are you out of your mind? Do you even know who she is? She could get you fired just like that." Junji snapped her fingers for emphasis.

Lingling shook her head with a small smile. "She won't."

Junji scoffed. "And how would you know that?"

Lingling didn't respond. What was she supposed to say? That she once knew Orm better than anyone? That she could read her even when Orm herself didn't know what she wanted?

It didn't matter now.

Orm wasn't the same.

And neither was she.

Lingling turned away, glancing back at Orm. She was focused on her laptop again, her brows furrowed in deep concentration. If it weren't for the brief moment they shared earlier, Lingling would have thought Orm didn't even recognize her.

But she did.

Orm wasn't saying anything, though. No snarky remarks, no teasing.

Just silence.

Lingling pressed her lips together and went back to her work, organizing the stock in the galley. If Orm wanted to act like a stranger, then fine.

She could do the same.

But deep down, she knew that was a lie.

Because her heart was still beating too fast.

_____________

The plane was finally descending into Bangkok. Orm took a deep breath, feeling the slight shift as the aircraft lowered its altitude. She glanced out the window—her hometown glowing with city lights, familiar yet distant, like a life she had once known but could no longer grasp.

As soon as the plane landed, business class passengers were the first to disembark. Orm stood, straightened her blazer, and grabbed her carry-on. She walked past the flight attendants standing by the exit, offering polite smiles and automatic greetings.

"Welcome to Thailand," Lingling said, her voice neutral.

Orm turned slightly, her eyes meeting Lingling's for a split second. She forced a small smile, barely there, and walked past without a word.

As they made their way through the terminal, Koy turned to her daughter. "Dear, should we eat first before going home? I'm a little hungry. It's already late."

Orm nodded, slipping her phone out of her pocket. "Let's grab something quick."

They found a small restaurant in the airport, one that served authentic Thai food, just what her mother was craving after weeks of French cuisine. Orm picked at her meal while her mother chatted about their trip, about the things they had yet to do, about how proud she was of Orm for handling everything so well.

But Orm barely listened. Her mind kept drifting back to the flight—to Lingling.

She knew she had no right to feel this way, but the encounter had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. Lingling had looked different, more refined, more composed. Not the same young woman who used to smile at her so freely.

That thought made her chest tighten.

After their meal, Orm texted their driver.

"Gate 1. Be there in five."

Orm and Koy stood outside, waiting for their car. The airport was still busy despite the late hour, travelers coming and going, some looking excited, others exhausted.

Then, another car pulled up near them.

At first, Orm barely paid attention. But then, as the driver stepped out, something about her seemed oddly familiar.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to place where she had seen her before.

And then Lingling appeared.

She walked briskly towards the car, looking as if she was in a hurry. Her hair was slightly tousled from the long flight, but she still looked effortlessly put together.

She didn't notice Orm at first. She simply opened the car door and slipped inside, settling into the passenger seat.

It wasn't until she was reaching for the seatbelt that their eyes met.

For a moment, everything stilled.

Orm felt her breath catch, but she didn't let it show. She only stood there, watching, waiting for—what?

Recognition? A greeting? An ounce of hesitation?

None came.

Instead, Lingling turned away.

And then, as if to twist the knife deeper, she leaned in and kissed the driver on the lips.

Orm's stomach twisted painfully.

But her face remained blank.

She forced herself to look away, to pretend that she hadn't just seen that, that it didn't matter.

And maybe it shouldn't.

Lingling was free to do whatever she wanted. Free to be with whoever she wanted.

Orm had let go of that right a long time ago.

Their car finally arrived, pulling up smoothly to the curb. Without a word, Orm opened the door for her mother, then slid in after her.

As they drove away, she stole one last glance at the car behind them.

And then, she let it disappear in the rearview mirror.