Chapter 11 - Square One

Days had passed since Orm and Milk returned to Bangkok. The crisis with Sethratanapong Group had been resolved, and the company was back on stable ground. But for Orm, stability was nowhere in sight.

Her personal life was in ruins. She spent each night drowning in alcohol, trying to escape the memories that haunted her—Lingling's cold stare, the way she pushed her away, the pain in her voice when she said she didn't want to see her. Orm had convinced herself that drinking would numb the ache, but it only made it worse.

Tonight was no different. She sat on the floor of her family's house, leaning against the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey resting between her fingers. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of liquor. The only sound was the ticking clock on the wall and the occasional clink of ice as she lazily swirled the amber liquid in her glass.

The front door creaked open, followed by the familiar sound of footsteps. Orm barely reacted. She was too lost in her thoughts, too consumed by the weight of her own regrets.

"Orm," a gentle yet firm voice called out.

She blinked sluggishly and turned her head. Her mother, Koy, stood in the doorway, eyes filled with concern as she took in the sight of her daughter—disheveled, exhausted, and clearly drunk.

Orm sighed and lifted the bottle with a weak smirk. "Want a drink, Mom?" Her voice was hoarse, laced with the bitterness of someone who had given up.

Koy frowned and walked toward her, kneeling down to take the bottle from Orm's grip. "Enough, Orm," she said softly but sternly. "You've been like this for days."

Orm scoffed and leaned her head back against the couch. "And? It's not like I have anything else to do."

Koy sighed, brushing a strand of hair from Orm's face. "This isn't you. My daughter doesn't drown herself in alcohol over heartbreak. Talk to me."

Orm let out a shaky breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I ruined everything, Mom. I let her go because I was scared. And now... now she's moved on." She swallowed hard. "I saw it in her eyes. She doesn't need me anymore."

Koy cupped Orm's face gently, forcing her to meet her gaze. "Do you really believe that? Or is that just the alcohol talking?"

Orm's lips quivered, and for the first time in days, she felt like a lost child. "I don't know," she whispered. "But I do know that I still love her."

Koy sighed and pulled Orm into a hug, holding her tightly. "Then fight for her," she murmured. "But first, fight for yourself. Stand up, Orm. Because the woman I raised isn't someone who gives up this easily."

Orm closed her eyes, letting herself be held. Orm is lost. She is stuck.

The next day, Orm dragged herself to the office, still reeking of alcohol. She wore sunglasses to cover the exhaustion in her eyes, but the way she moved—sluggish and unfocused—made it obvious. The employees exchanged glances as she passed, whispering among themselves.

A meeting had been scheduled that morning, and she sat at the head of the conference table, arms crossed, her head slightly tilted downward. Executives and department heads discussed reports, financial projections, and upcoming projects, but Orm barely processed a single word.

"Miss Orm?" one of the managers called, hesitating when she didn't respond.

Milk, who was seated a few chairs away, leaned forward. "Orm," she said, her tone sharp. "Are you even listening?"

Orm exhaled through her nose, tilting her head back slightly. "Just continue," she muttered, rubbing her temples.

Milk scoffed. "Continue? This is your company, Orm. Act like it."

The room fell into an awkward silence.

Orm removed her sunglasses, revealing bloodshot eyes. "I said continue," she repeated, her voice firm, but drained of any real authority.

Milk clenched her jaw, glancing at the others before sighing. "Fine."

The meeting resumed, but Orm remained distant. Her mind wasn't in that room. It was somewhere else—somewhere in the past, in a memory filled with Lingling's laughter, her warmth, her love.

And now, she was left with nothing but the emptiness that came with losing her.

After the meeting, Orm slumped into her office chair, pressing her fingers against her temples. Her head throbbed from last night's drinking, and the effects hadn't worn off. She barely paid attention in the meeting, and now she had no idea what had been discussed. Not that she cared.

The door to her office swung open without a knock. Milk strutted in, her arms crossed, her eyes sharp as they landed on Orm's disheveled state.

"We have a gala tomorrow," Milk stated flatly. "Just reminding you. You need to be there, Orm. My father will be attending, and I need you to act like the Chairwoman of Sethratanapong Group, not some—" She gestured at the nearly empty bottle of vodka on Orm's desk. "—self-destructive mess."

Orm, barely glancing at her, poured herself another drink. "I'll be there," she muttered before taking a sip.

Milk let out a sharp breath, clearly irritated. "Orm."

"What?" Orm drawled, finally looking up. Her eyes, hidden behind dark sunglasses, were bloodshot.

Milk's jaw tightened. "I don't trust you to show up sober. I'll pick you up tomorrow. Be ready."

Orm smirked humorlessly. "How sweet of you, Milk. But I can take care of myself."

Milk let out a dry laugh. "That's the funniest thing I've heard all day." She leaned on Orm's desk, lowering her voice. "Whatever this is—you drowning yourself in alcohol, showing up to work like this—it won't change anything."

Orm's grip on the glass tightened.

Milk straightened, shaking her head. "See you tomorrow." Then she turned and walked out, leaving Orm alone in the silence.

Orm exhaled and glanced at her phone. Her fingers hovered over Lingling's name.

She hesitated.

Then she tossed the phone aside and poured another drink.

________

That night, Milk arrived at Orm's house, already bracing herself for disappointment. As expected, when Orm opened the door, she was tipsy, her eyes slightly dazed, and the faint scent of alcohol clinging to her.

Milk sighed in frustration. "Seriously, Orm? You promised me you'd be sober."

Orm leaned lazily against the doorframe, smirking. "Relax, Milk. Let me take a quick shower, and I swear, I'll be good to go."

Milk pinched the bridge of her nose. "You better be. My father is going to be there, and I need you to act like the competent Chairwoman you are."

Orm only chuckled before disappearing into her room. Milk paced the living room, irritation bubbling inside her. Minutes later, Orm stepped out, and Milk's breath hitched.

Orm had chosen a sleek black dress—short, perfectly hugging her curves, and with a dangerously low neckline. Her damp hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her perfume lingered in the air.

Milk blinked, momentarily stunned.

Orm smirked. "What? Something wrong?"

Milk quickly snapped out of it, crossing her arms. "You're doing this on purpose."

Orm tilted her head playfully. "Doing what?"

Milk scoffed. "Just get in the car. And try not to embarrass me tonight."

Orm grabbed her clutch, grinning. "No promises."

_________

Milk and Orm entered the grand ballroom, where chandeliers bathed the elegantly dressed guests in a warm golden light. The air buzzed with quiet conversations and the gentle clinking of glasses. Orm adjusted the collar of her black dress shirt, feeling a bit stifled despite maintaining her usual composed demeanor.

Milk guided her toward a group of executives, introducing her with a confident smile. "This is Orm Sethratanapong, the woman behind our latest project," Milk said proudly.

Orm gave a polite nod, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, but her mind wasn't entirely present. She could feel the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her, amplified by the slight buzz of alcohol still lingering in her system.

As they made their way to their designated table, Orm casually scanned the room, her gaze idly drifting across the sea of guests—until her eyes landed on a familiar face.

Charlotte.

Orm's jaw tightened as she let out a quiet groan. "Seriously?" she muttered.

Milk arched a brow. "What?"

Orm inclined her head toward the other side of the room. "Why is she here?"

Milk followed her gaze and smirked. "Oh. Charlotte? She's one of Vosbein's corporate lawyers."

Orm's lips parted in disbelief before she scoffed, shaking her head. "Great. This is not the kind of Fuck I am looking for. I hate my life"

And then, as if the universe truly had it out for her, Orm spotted the person sitting next to Charlotte.

Lingling.

She stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. The world around her seemed to muffle as her focus zeroed in on Lingling, who was engaged in quiet conversation with Charlotte. She looked effortlessly beautiful in a navy-blue gown, her hair styled in soft waves. She was smiling—at Charlotte.

Orm clenched her jaw. "God must hate me," she muttered.

Milk, now thoroughly entertained, leaned closer and whispered, "Now I see why you're really pissed."

Before Orm could respond, Milk added in a teasing tone, "So... ex-girlfriend and current flame sitting together? How tragic."

Orm rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Milk."

"Hey, I'm just saying," Milk continued, smirking. "This world is too damn small for you two to keep running into each other."

Orm didn't reply. Instead, she grabbed her clutch, stood up, and made a beeline for the bar.

Milk watched her go, shaking her head before following after her.

At the bar, Orm placed both hands on the counter. "Give me the strongest drink you have," she told the bartender.

The bartender, a middle-aged man with a knowing look, chuckled. "Rough night?"

Orm let out a humorless laugh. "You could say that. Life fucked me up so many times I can't count."

A glass was placed in front of her, and she wasted no time downing it in one go.

Milk slid onto the barstool beside her. "Drinking already? The night just started."

Orm let out a slow exhale, rolling the empty glass between her fingers. "If I have to sit through this night watching them, I need something strong."

Milk followed her gaze back to Charlotte and Lingling's table, where the two women were still deep in conversation.

Milk smirked. "You know, you could just walk over there and say hi."

Orm scoffed. "Yeah. And what? Ask how happy they are together?" She gestured for another drink.

Milk leaned in, resting her chin on her hand. "Or, you could just admit you still want her."

Orm turned to Milk, expression unreadable. "I never stopped wanting her."

Milk's smirk faded slightly at the rawness in Orm's voice.

Before either of them could say anything else, footsteps approached.

Orm looked up just in time to meet Lingling's gaze.

Lingling walked past them with a cool, composed expression, her strides confident and deliberate. She moved toward the bar, ordering two martinis with a firm tone, as if nothing in the room mattered. Orm's eyes followed her every movement, from her long, graceful legs to the way she held herself, her back straight as she effortlessly owned the space. The sight of her brought an unexpected pang of longing in Orm's chest.

Orm cleared her throat, trying to steady herself. "Ling, can we talk?" she asked, her voice a mix of hope and hesitation.

Lingling, however, didn't even glance in her direction. She remained completely silent, as if Orm didn't exist at all. She picked up the two martinis, walking past them without a word and returned to her table with Charlotte.

Orm's grip on the counter tightened, her pulse quickening. She didn't know what it was about Lingling's indifference that stung so much. The rejection, the coldness—it felt like a slap in the face. It was all too much.

"Two shots of vodka, straight," Orm ordered without missing a beat, ignoring Milk's concerned stare.

Milk watched her with wide eyes. "Whoa, slow down," she said, trying to pull the glass away, but Orm wiped her lips and shook her head defiantly.

"I'm gonna take her home tonight," Orm said, her voice heavy with determination.

Milk blinked, completely thrown off. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Orm didn't miss a beat as she knocked back her drink. "I'm gonna take her home," she repeated, the words coming out firm despite the alcohol in her system.

Milk's expression morphed into confusion and disbelief. "How? She's basically with Charlotte. Did you see them? They're sitting together."

Orm didn't respond immediately. Instead, she took another shot, the burn of the alcohol a welcome distraction. "I don't fucking care. There's no way that those two are having sex tonight."

Milk's eyes widened, and her face twisted in shock. "What the hell, Orm? What are you saying?"

Orm turned to her, her gaze hard and focused. "Well, look at it this way. She's clearly drinking. And if she's drinking, they'll get drunk. And that means... sex." Orm said it with a strange sense of certainty, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Am I wrong?"

Milk stared at her, speechless for a moment. Her mind reeled from Orm's wild thoughts, but she couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips. "Wow," she finally said. "Your imagination is seriously wild."

Orm shot her a glare. "I'm serious, Milk. I'm not gonna let this... this charade go on. I'm taking her home."

Milk raised her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. You're really going to do this, huh?"

Orm looked at the glass in front of her, taking a deep breath. "I don't care what Charlotte or anyone else thinks. Lingling... she deserves better than this. She deserves more than whatever it is she's pretending to have with Charlotte."

Milk's expression softened, though the skepticism never fully left her face. "You do realize this is risky, right? If you show up there acting like this, it's not gonna be pretty."

Orm didn't answer right away. Instead, she stood up and straightened her posture, adjusting her black suit jacket. "I don't care. I've made up my mind."

Milk stared at her for a long moment before speaking again. "Just... make sure you're not doing this because of some fantasy, Orm. You've got a lot of shit to work through, and you can't drag her into it."

Orm's lips tightened into a thin line. "I know what I'm doing, Milk. I'm not dragging her into anything. But I am going to fight for her."

Milk nodded, but there was still a hint of doubt in her eyes. "Good luck," she muttered, knowing Orm's stubbornness would drive her regardless of the consequences.

Orm's gaze never left Lingling as she sipped her drink. The tension in the air was thick, but Orm was too far gone now to care about the consequences. Her heart was pounding, her mind racing with a single, overwhelming desire: to take Lingling away from this moment, from Charlotte, from whatever facade they were building together.

Orm stood up abruptly, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor drawing some attention. Milk raised her eyebrows, but Orm didn't look back. She wasn't going to wait any longer.

She walked across the room toward Lingling's table, each step feeling like it echoed in the silence of her mind. Charlotte was speaking, her words floating in the background as Orm's eyes locked onto Lingling. She didn't care about Charlotte anymore.

Lingling glanced up as Orm approached, but before she could say anything, Orm was already pulling her up from her chair. "Let's go," Orm said firmly, grabbing Lingling by the wrist and pulling her toward the exit.

"Orm, what the hell are you doing?" Lingling protested, stumbling slightly as Orm's grip tightened. "Let go of me."

Orm ignored her, pulling her past the surprised stares of the other guests, heading toward the exit. "I'm taking you home," she said, her voice low but unwavering.

Lingling tried to resist, jerking her arm back, but Orm wasn't letting go. "Orm, you're drunk!" Lingling snapped, her voice rising in frustration. "You can't just—"

"I don't care!" Orm snapped back, her patience snapping. "I'm done waiting. I can't stand seeing you with her anymore. Come with me, Lingling."

Lingling stopped walking for a moment, staring at Orm with wide eyes, her expression a mix of disbelief and confusion. "What are you talking about? You're out of your mind."

Orm didn't respond. Instead, she gave Lingling one last pull toward the door, her eyes pleading. She couldn't afford to lose her again.

To her surprise, Lingling didn't pull away completely. There was hesitation in her steps, and then, finally, she sighed, a reluctant surrender in her gaze. "You're crazy," she muttered under her breath, but she didn't fight Orm anymore.

The two of them walked in tense silence through the hotel lobby, Orm leading the way, pulling Lingling along behind her. She could feel the weight of Lingling's resistance, but for once, it wasn't enough to stop her.

They reached the car, and Orm opened the door, gesturing for Lingling to get in. Lingling hesitated again, looking up at Orm as if trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

"Why are you doing this?" Lingling finally asked, her voice quieter now, more confused than angry.

Orm took a deep breath, her eyes softening just slightly. "Because I can't lose you, Lingling. I can't let you go again. I'm not going to stand there and watch you walk away with someone else."

Lingling looked at her for a long moment, her face unreadable, and then she stepped into the car without another word. Orm followed, slamming the door behind her. The silence in the car was deafening.

Orm's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as she drove, her mind racing with emotions she couldn't control. She didn't know what would happen next, but she knew one thing for sure: she wasn't letting Lingling go again. Not without a fight.

____________

Orm kept driving in silence, gripping the steering wheel tightly. The air inside the car was thick with tension, neither of them speaking, but both acutely aware of each other's presence. Lingling sat stiffly in the passenger seat, stealing glances at Orm, whose jaw was clenched, her eyes dark with unspoken emotions.

As they pulled up to Orm's house, she stepped out first, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary. She walked around to Lingling's side, opened the door, and grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward the house.

"Orm," Lingling protested, trying to resist. "What am I doing here?"

Orm didn't answer. She led Lingling inside, past the grand living room, and straight to her bedroom. She let go of Lingling's hand and walked to the shelf, grabbing a bottle of vodka and taking a long drink.

Lingling crossed her arms. "Are you seriously drinking more?"

Orm wiped her lips with the back of her hand and smirked. "I'm keeping you away from Charlotte. That's the plan."

Lingling raised an eyebrow. "You do realize we live together, right?"

Orm froze mid-drink. "What?!"

Lingling sighed. "Yes, Orm. We live together. We go home to the same place every night."

Orm groaned and chugged more vodka. "Nope. You're moving out. I'll buy you a condo or whatever. Leave her."

Lingling let out a frustrated laugh. "You're insane."

Orm stepped closer, her expression turning serious. "I don't want you with her, Ling. You belong with me."

Lingling's patience snapped. "Orm, stop this. We are over. You left me. Remember?"

Orm's grip on the bottle tightened before she suddenly threw it across the room, the glass shattering against the wall. "No!" Her voice was raw, filled with frustration and pain.

Lingling flinched but held her ground. "Please, Orm," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Just stop."

Orm took a shaky breath and stepped toward her. "Fine, Ling," she murmured. "Tell me—tell to my face that you don't love me anymore, and I'll drive you back to Charlotte myself."

Lingling stared at her, her throat tightening. The words refused to come out.

Orm tilted her head, a sad smile playing on her lips. "Thought so."

____________

Orm stepped closer, her hands cradling Lingling's face gently, her thumbs brushing away the stray tears trailing down Lingling's cheeks. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the desperation in it was undeniable.

"Come back to me, Ling," Orm pleaded. "Even if it takes a lifetime, I will make it up to you. I swear, I am so sorry for leaving you without a word. I was a coward, but I promise it will never happen again."

Lingling searched Orm's face, her heart pounding against her chest. She wanted to believe her. She really did. But the pain of the past still lingered, the fear of being abandoned again gripping her like a vice. Her lips trembled as she finally admitted, "I'm scared, Orm."

The moment the words left her mouth, tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks.

Orm wasted no time pulling her into a tight embrace, her arms wrapped protectively around Lingling. She pressed a soft kiss against Lingling's forehead, her lips lingering there as if trying to soothe away the pain. "I know, Ling," she murmured against her skin. "But please... give me another chance. I'll spend my whole life proving to you that I won't leave again."

Lingling remained quiet, her breathing uneven. She felt Orm's warmth, her familiar scent surrounding her. It was a feeling she had missed more than she wanted to admit.

Orm pulled back slightly, her dark eyes searching Lingling's face. Slowly, hesitantly, her gaze fell to Lingling's lips. She leaned in just a little, giving Lingling the chance to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn't.

Taking it as permission, Orm closed the distance between them and pressed a gentle kiss to Lingling's lips—soft, and slow.

Lingling's breath hitched, her teary eyes fluttering shut as she melted into the kiss. It was filled with longing and with everything left unsaid between them.

For a moment, it felt like they had never been apart.