How To Have A Full Blown Meltdown Before 7AM

Lingling sat frozen at her desk, staring at the divorce papers in front of her as if they were a live bomb.

At the bottom of the crisp white page, in familiar, looping script, was Orm's signature.

Her signature.

Her Orm.

Her wife.

A deep, hollow ache settled in Lingling's chest, growing heavier with each passing second.

This wasn't happening.

She felt like she had been thrown into another reality, like the world had tilted off its axis and she was the only one who noticed.

Across from her, Orm sat eerily calm.

Unshaken. Unbothered.

It made Lingling sick.

"Let's not drag this out, Ling."

Orm's voice was soft—too soft. Like she was comforting her. Like she was trying to make this easier.

Lingling didn't want easy.

She wanted Orm.

Her entire body tensed. "No."

Orm let out a slow breath, tilting her head. "Lingling."

"No."

Stronger this time. Sharper. Desperate.

Orm sat back in her chair, looking at her like she was a child refusing to accept the truth.

"Ling." Her voice was steady. "Sign the papers."

Lingling's chest tightened violently. "I won't."

Orm's eyes darkened. "You will."

Lingling's hands clenched into white-knuckled fists against the desk. "You're making a mistake."

Orm's lips pressed into a tight line. "No. I'm fixing one."

Lingling's breath hitched.

She shook her head. "This—this isn't right. We're right. You don't just walk away from that. From us."

Orm's fingers tapped impatiently against the desk. "We've been walking toward this for a long time, Ling. You just refused to see it."

Lingling stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "That's a lie. We—we fight, yes, but we always work through it. You don't just throw everything away because of some rough patches."

Orm sighed, looking at her hands. "Ling—"

"I LOVE YOU."

The words tore out of her.

Raw. Broken.

Orm flinched.

Lingling clung to it.

"I love you, Orm. You—you don't get to just decide we're over like it's a business deal. You don't get to sign a damn piece of paper and erase everything we've built. Everything we are."

Orm's fingers curled into fists.

But she didn't say anything.

She didn't reassure her.

Didn't tell her she was wrong.

And that terrified her.

Lingling's throat felt tight. "Orm, please."

Her voice cracked.

Orm's jaw tensed. "Don't do this."

"Don't do what?" Lingling's voice was shrill now, cracking under the weight of pure devastation. "Beg for my wife to stay?! Fight for the person I swore to spend my life with?"

She pressed her palm flat against her desk to steady herself.

"I—I don't care if I have to beg, Orm. I will beg."

Orm's shoulders stiffened.

Lingling took a shaky step forward. "Tell me what to fix. Tell me what to do. I'll do it. I'll change. Just—just don't do this."

Orm exhaled sharply, closing her eyes. "It's not about that."

"Then what?!" Lingling's voice broke. "Tell me why. Give me a reason that makes sense. That isn't—this."

Orm looked up, and for the first time, her calm mask cracked.

Her lips parted slightly, hesitation flickering across her face.

For a moment, Lingling dared to hope.

But then—

Orm pushed the divorce papers closer to her.

"Sign it."

Lingling's breath caught in her throat.

She looked down at the paper. At the empty line waiting for her name.

Her final nail in the coffin.

Her entire body shook. "Orm—"

"Sign it, Ling."

Lingling felt like the ground had disappeared beneath her.

Her pulse pounded in her ears.

She felt weightless.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

"I can't." Her voice was a whisper now. "I can't, Orm. Please."

Orm's fingers curled around the edge of the table, knuckles pale.

And then, finally—

"You will."

Her voice was like steel.

And that's when Lingling knew.

It was over.

Her vision blurred.

The pen felt like lead in her fingers as she picked it up.

Her grip shook.

Her heart fractured.

And with the softest, most heartbreaking scratch of ink against paper—

Lingling woke up.

Lingling gasped, sitting bolt upright in bed.

Her breathing was ragged, her forehead damp with sweat. Her heart hammered violently against her ribs as she desperately scanned the room.

Penthouse.

Orm's side of the bed was a mess, blankets half-kicked off. The faint sound of soft snoring filled the air.

Lingling's chest heaved with relief.

It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare.

But it felt so real—too real.

She turned her head, eyes locking onto the very real, very present love of her life.

Orm was sprawled out, mouth slightly open, wearing one of Lingling's expensive, tailored button-downs like it was her own personal bathrobe. A pillow was wedged between her legs, her hand clutching a stuffed bunny Lingling vaguely remembered winning at a carnival years ago.

Lingling felt something in her chest unclench.

For a woman who caused her so much stress, Orm looked ridiculously peaceful when she slept.

Blissfully unaware that she had just put Lingling through the most gut-wrenching emotional torture of her life.

Lingling let out a slow, shaky breath before lying back down.

She stared at the ceiling, trying to shake off the lingering sense of loss.

But even as her pulse slowed, one thought echoed in her mind:

She couldn't lose Orm.

Not now. Not ever.

She shifted closer, wrapping an arm around her wife's waist. Orm hummed sleepily in response, instinctively snuggling into her touch.

Lingling buried her face in Orm's hair, inhaling deeply.

For all the chaos, all the mischief, all the times Orm drove her absolutely insane—

She was everything to Lingling. The best thing that had ever happened to her.

And she'd be damned if she ever let her go.

Orm stirred awake to the sensation of being smothered.

She cracked one eye open to find Lingling practically GLUED to her, arms wrapped so tightly around her waist it was borderline restrictive.

Orm blinked in confusion. "Uh... babe?"

No response. Just a tighter grip.

Orm frowned. "Lingling, are you...okay?"

Lingling's voice came, muffled but firm. "You're never divorcing me."

Orm squinted. "I—what?"

Lingling finally pulled back, looking at her with intense, borderline threatening conviction. "I don't care if I'm insufferable, or if I get on your nerves, or if I make you want to scream into a pillow. You are never leaving me."

Orm stared.

Then, slowly, realization dawned.

Her eyes widened.

"Oh my god. Did you have a nightmare?"

Lingling scowled, looking away. "That's not the point."

Orm, fully awake now, grinned. "You did. You totally did! You dreamt I left you, didn't you?"

"I said that's not the point."

Orm burst into laughter, rolling onto her back. "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE SUCH A SAP!"

Lingling huffed. "Obviously."

Orm's grin softened. "Ling, baby, I'd never leave you. Ever."

Lingling, still grumpy, muttered, "You did in my dream."

Orm giggled before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to Lingling's forehead. "Then let me make up for it. Pancakes?"

Lingling narrowed her eyes. "With strawberries?"

"And extra whipped cream," Orm promised, pressing another kiss to her wife's cheek. "Because you're my favorite whipped wife."

Lingling sighed heavily, but her lips twitched into a small smile. "Fine. But I'm holding you to it."

Orm smirked. "That's what marriage is, babe. Holding each other forever."

Lingling rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest remained.

And as Orm dragged her out of bed, giggling and promising the best pancakes ever, Lingling knew one thing for sure—

No dream, no fear, nothing could ever take Orm away from her.

Because this was forever.

Later That Night...

After dinner, Lingling pulled Orm into their bed, wrapping her arms tightly around her wife.

Orm smirked. "Wow, two cuddles in one day? Should I be worried?"

Lingling sighed. "Shut up and let me hold you."

Orm's smirk softened. She tucked herself closer, resting her forehead against Lingling's. "You love me."

"Mhm."

"So much that it literally haunts you in your dreams."

Lingling groaned. "Do you ever stop talking?"

Orm grinned before pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Lingling's lips. "Never."

Lingling hummed, finally relaxing as Orm played with her fingers under the sheets.

"I wouldn't change you for anything in the world."

Orm smiled, closing her eyes. "Good. Because you're stuck with me."

Lingling just held her closer, whispering, "Forever."

And with that, they drifted off to sleep, tangled in each other's warmth.