Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

* Orm’s POV *

Orm wasn't worried at first.

Ling had a habit of turning five-minute tasks into thirty-minute ones. One more email. One more meeting. One more report she insisted would only take a moment.

So when the time Ling promised she'd be home came and went, Orm merely glanced at the clock and continued talking with the housekeepers, assuming her girlfriend had simply gotten caught up in work again.

Min was halfway through a story about Dao accidentally ordering enough fruit for an entire hotel when Orm checked her phone again.

No new messages.

A small frown appeared as Orm sent another text.

Where are you?
Do you want me to come get you?

When no response came, she simply set her phone down and returned her attention to the conversation. Ling is probably on the way already.

At least, that was what she told herself.

"Traffic," Orm said, more to herself than anyone else.

Min glanced over.

"Probably."

Orm nodded. Bangkok traffic was a nightmare, and that explanation continued to make sense for another fifteen minutes.

Then another fifteen.

Until thirty minutes became an hour and suddenly the explanation didn't feel quite as convincing anymore.

Orm pressed call again. The phone rang and rang and rang.

No answer.

A knot formed quietly inside her chest. She hung up and immediately called again.

Nothing.

Min was already reaching for her own phone.

"I'll try."

Orm nodded.

Min called but the result was exactly the same.

The living room had grown noticeably quieter. Even Dao had stopped talking.

Orm stared at her phone, unease slowly settling in her chest. Ling never ignored her. Not intentionally. If she needed to stay late, she would send a text. If a meeting ran long, she would send a text. If she was stuck in traffic, she would send a text.

Ling updated her constantly, sometimes excessively.

Which made the silence feel far louder than it should have.

Orm stood so abruptly that the movement immediately drew everyone's attention. Three pairs of eyes landed on her at once.

Concern.

Curiosity.

The same growing unease she was trying very hard not to acknowledge.

"I'm going to AW."

Min was already nodding before she finished speaking, clearly having reached the same conclusion.

"I'll come with—"

"No."

Orm grabbed her keys from the table and headed toward the front door. If Ling was simply buried under paperwork, Orm intended to personally remove her from the office.

"If she's fine, I'm dragging her home myself."

That earned the first hint of amusement she'd seen all evening. A small smile tugged at Min's lips.

"Good luck with that."

Orm rolled her eyes, already reaching for the door handle.

"Exactly."

—

The drive felt longer than usual. Every red light tested her patience and every slow driver made her grip the steering wheel a little tighter. By the time the familiar AW building finally came into view, the unease in her chest had grown into something much harder to ignore.

Then she saw the top floor still lit.

The rest of the building sat mostly dark against the night sky, with only a handful of scattered lights visible throughout the lower levels.

But the executive floor remained brightly illuminated.

Orm's stomach dropped.

Ling was still there, long after everyone else had gone home, and still not answering her phone.

—

The lobby was nearly empty, with only a few security guards remaining at their stations. The second Orm entered, they immediately stood and offered polite bows instead of stopping her.

"Good evening, Ms. Sethratanapong."

Orm barely slowed.

"Good evening."

The guard stepped aside immediately. The gesture was familiar by now.

Months ago, Ling had informed the entire security team that Orm was to be treated as family, not a visitor or guest, which meant any area Ling could access, Orm could access as well.

At the time, Orm had laughed and called her ridiculous but Ling had looked genuinely confused.

"Why would I make my girlfriend ask for permission to enter my building?"

The memory made Orm's chest ache. Even now, with worry tightening painfully inside her stomach, she could still hear Ling's voice saying it so confidently, as though the answer had been obvious.

As though there had never been a world where Orm didn't belong beside her.

The elevator doors slid open and Orm stepped inside. As the doors closed and the numbers began climbing, the knot in her chest tightened with every passing floor.

Because the longer this went on, the less she believed Ling was simply working late.

Ling didn't know how to stop when it came to work. Orm had spent months watching her push through exhaustion, skip meals, and convince herself she could handle just one more thing. If left alone, Ling would work until her body physically forced her to stop.

Which only made Orm more worried and increasingly annoyed because even if she had gotten stuck at the office, why hadn't she updated her?

One text.

That was all it would have taken.

Yet an hour had passed without a single message, missed call, or explanation.

By the time the elevator reached the executive floor, worry and frustration had twisted together into something that left a growing weight in her chest.

The doors slid open and Orm stepped into the hallway, immediately slowing when an unease settled over her.

The executive floor was silent. Too silent.

Most nights there would at least be cleaning staff somewhere, but tonight there was nothing except the distant hum of air conditioning, the glow of office lights, and emptiness.

Orm noticed Sonya's empty desk.

The sight made her stomach sink even further.

Because if Sonya had gone home...

Then who had been helping Ling?

The CEO's office remained illuminated at the end of the hallway.

Orm's pace quickened as she headed toward it, her pulse climbing with every step. By the time she reached the door, her heart was hammering hard enough that she could feel it in her throat.

She pushed the door open and froze.

For a moment, her brain simply stopped working as everything else fell away.

Ling was slumped sideways in her chair with her eyes closed and her face flushed an alarming shade of red. Even from across the room, Orm could hear her uneven, labored breathing, and the sound immediately sent panic crashing through her chest.

"Baby…"

Orm crossed the room so quickly she nearly stumbled before dropping into a crouch beside Ling, both hands resting on Ling’s knees.

"Ling."

Nothing.

Orm gently shook her.

"Teerak, wake up."

A soft groan escaped Ling, but she didn't open her eyes or react beyond that. The panic in Orm's chest intensified immediately. She reached up and pressed a hand against Ling's forehead, and the second their skin touched, her eyes widened.

"Oh my god."

The heat pouring from Ling's skin was startling, as though her body had been carrying a fire for hours with no one there to notice.

"Baby... your skin is burning."

The words left Orm in a whisper, her voice cracking with concern.

Ling made another weak sound but remained barely responsive, her eyes still closed.

A painful knot tightened beneath Orm's ribs as the reality of the situation settled over her. Ling had been sitting here alone, sick and pushing herself to work while Orm waited at home wondering why she was late.

Orm brushed trembling fingers through her hair.

"Why didn't you call me?"

No answer. Just another weak groan. When Ling failed to respond again, Orm immediately looked around the desk.

Phone.

Where was her phone?

There.

Near the reports.

Orm grabbed the phone and the screen immediately unlocked. It took her a second to remember why before the memory resurfaced from months ago, a lazy Sunday afternoon spent tangled together on the couch while Ling stubbornly held out her phone.

"Add your face."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to have access."

"Ling, I don't need access to your phone."

"I know."

"Then why?"

Ling had looked at her like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Because you're you."

A sudden pressure built in Orm's throat.

Ling had never hidden anything from her, never wanted to, and had never quite understood why anyone thought that level of trust was unusual.

Then her gaze landed on the screen and the rest of the air left her lungs.

Their chat was open. An unfinished message sat in the text box, half typed and never sent.

Orm stared at it, something painful squeezing around her heart. Because even now, exhausted and burning with fever, Ling had been trying to text her. Trying to update her. Trying to let her know she wasn't coming home yet.

Emotions crashed into Orm all at once, so overwhelming it almost hurt. Love. Fear. Guilt. Relief that she had come looking for Ling. Terror at seeing her like this. The feelings collided so violently that for a moment all she could do was stare.

For a moment, Orm wanted nothing more than to gather Ling into her arms and take every ounce of discomfort away from her.

But right now there was something more important.

Forcing herself to focus, Orm quickly searched through Ling's contacts until she found security and pressed call. The line connected after only two rings.

"Ms. Kwong, security speaking."

"This is Orm."

The response was immediate.

"Ms. Sethratanapong."

"I need help on the executive floor."

Orm looked down at Ling's flushed cheeks and exhausted expression, at the woman who had worked herself into a fever and still tried to send her a text before she no longer had the strength to finish it.

The sight made her heart swell and break at the same time.

"Now."

The guard didn't hesitate.

"We're on our way."

—

* Ling’s POV *

The next morning arrived beneath a blanket of gray clouds.

There was no sunlight streaming through the windows, no warm golden glow spilling across the room. Instead, the overcast sky cast a soft muted light through the curtains, bright enough to illuminate the bedroom despite the absence of the sun.

Ling woke slowly.

A dull throb lingered behind her eyes, far better than whatever had happened yesterday but still present enough to remind her that she wasn't fully recovered.

She frowned.

For several seconds, her thoughts felt sluggish and disjointed as she tried to piece together what had happened. The last thing she remembered was sitting alone in her office, trying to send Orm a text.

After that, nothing.

A knot of guilt immediately formed in her stomach. If that was truly the last thing she remembered, then she had never made it home.

She opened her eyes and stared at the familiar ceiling above her.

Her room.

Slowly, she turned her head and took in the familiar furniture, framed photos, and bookshelves surrounding her.

Confusion immediately followed.

Did I somehow make it home and forgot?

Then she turned toward the other side of the bed and froze.

Orm was there, sleeping on her side, facing Ling. Their hands were still intertwined beneath the blankets, yet despite holding onto her, Orm was positioned absurdly far away, practically hanging off the edge of her side of the mattress.

Ling's brows immediately knitted together.

Why is Orm sleeping so far away from me?

The thought bothered her enough that she instinctively scooted closer.

The movement shifted the mattress.

Almost immediately, Orm's eyes flew open and concern flooded her face before she was even fully awake. She pushed herself upright so quickly that Ling barely had time to react.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Ling blinked in confusion at the urgency in Orm's voice. Only then did she notice the redness around her eyes, the slight swelling, and the unmistakable signs that she had been crying.

Her confusion deepened as she gently brushed her thumb across the hand still holding hers.

"Why are you sleeping so far from me?"

A surprised huff of laughter escaped Orm.

"You had a fever last night. I didn’t want to make you burn up even more."

Ling stared.

"Huh?"

"I found you in the office and had to bring you home."

The memories still refused to fully connect, but guilt washed over her anyway, immediate and overwhelming.

"I'm sorry..."

Her voice came out softer than intended.

"I didn't mean to worry you."

Orm's expression suddenly tightened.

"Why were you there alone?"

Ling frowned slightly, caught off guard by the question.

"Alone?"

"Where was Sonya? Did no one notice you were sick?"

The protectiveness in Orm's voice was so impossible to miss that Ling couldn't help smiling despite herself.

"Sonya tried to help me."

She searched her memory, but everything still felt blurry and distant.

"I remember her being there while I was... hazy, I guess."

Ling rubbed her forehead.

"But by the time I opened my eyes again, I think I was alone."

She shook her head slightly.

"I don't remember much."

That answer clearly didn't make Orm feel any better.

"Are you feeling better now?"

Ling's smile grew.

"Much better."

Her thumb brushed gently across Orm's knuckles.

"Thank you for taking care of me, teerak."

Orm practically threw herself across the mattress and buried her face against Ling's chest. The impact pushed Ling deeper into the bed, drawing a startled laugh from her.

"Oof."

Still smiling, Ling wrapped an arm around Orm's waist while her other hand settled against her back, stroking slow soothing circles through the fabric of her shirt.

"You scared me."

The words came out muffled and raw enough that Ling's hand paused briefly against her back.

"I should've said something when I saw how hard you've been pushing yourself these past few months."

Orm tightened her hold.

"I didn't think it would get this bad. You are never allowed to work again."

A lump formed in Ling's throat but she laughed it off.

"That's not possible."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a CEO."

"Get a new CEO."

That made Ling laugh even harder.

"And become poor?"

"Yes."

"Then I won't be able to buy all the things we want or take you to all the places we’ve dreamed of."

"I don't care."

"Orm…"

"I don't."

Orm lifted her head enough to look at her. There wasn't a trace of hesitation in her eyes.

"I don't care about those things."

Ling's smile slowly faded because Orm sounded completely serious.

"I don't care about trips. I don't care about expensive gifts."

Orm's fingers tightened slightly against her shirt.

"I don't care about any of that."

Ling felt her breath catch.

"Even if we're poor, I just want you."

The sincerity behind those words struck harder than anything else.

"Besides," Orm continued, "I'm on track to becoming an executive too."

A small smile appeared.

"I can support both of us."

Something inside Ling went completely still.

Not because she was still recovering from a fever or because Orm was currently crushing her lungs, but because every word sounded completely sincere.

Ling had known for a long time how much Orm loved her. She saw it in the way Orm looked at her, worried about her, stayed beside her, and always found her way back to her.

Yet hearing those words spoken like that, in this moment, still struck her with unexpected force.

The thought appeared so naturally that it startled her.

God, I want to marry her so badly.

The realization settled quietly inside her chest with a certainty that felt unshakable.

Ling smiled and pressed a kiss into Orm's hair.

"Okay."

Orm immediately narrowed her eyes.

"Okay what?"

"I'll try not to overwork myself."

"Try?"

Ling laughed.

"I'll tone it down."

"Good."

Orm settled back against her chest, and for a while neither of them spoke. Then, quietly, almost too quietly for Ling to hear:

"I can't lose you again."

Ling's arms tightened around her immediately.

The room gradually fell quiet again as they remained tangled together beneath the gray morning skies. With no meetings, work, or obligations waiting for them, there was nowhere either of them needed to be except right here.

At some point, Dao and Wen quietly brought breakfast upstairs.

The housekeepers reached the bedroom door just in time to hear the familiar sound of their employers bickering affectionately through the wood.

They exchanged knowing looks.

Neither knocked.

Instead, they quietly carried it back downstairs and sent Orm a message letting her know that porridge was ready whenever they wanted it and could be heated up again later.

—

When Ling returned to AW on Monday morning, she arrived carrying a large box of pastries. Instead of heading directly upstairs, she stopped at the security desk first.

The lead security officer straightened at the sight of the CEO.

"Good morning, Ms. Kwong."

"Good morning."

Ling placed the box on the counter.

"I wanted to thank everyone for helping Orm on Friday night."

The man's eyes widened slightly. Several nearby guards exchanged glances.

Ling smiled.

"Please distribute these among the team."

The lead officer nodded.

"Of course, Ms. Kwong."

Before leaving, Ling hesitated briefly.

"One more thing."

The guards immediately became attentive.

"If possible, I'd appreciate it if Friday night stayed between us."

The request was polite, almost apologetic, and every guard present agreed without question.

"Of course, Ms. Kwong."

Ling thanked them once more before heading toward the elevators.

The gesture hadn't surprised anyone.

Ling had always treated every employee with the same respect, whether they were executives, assistants, security personnel, maintenance staff, or members of the cleaning crew.

Still, the pastries were appreciated.

Most people would have simply moved on. Ling had taken the time to come and thank them personally.

—

As soon as Ling stepped onto the executive floor, Sonya stood from her desk. Her eyes immediately swept across Ling.

Ling noticed and tilted her head slightly, silently questioning the behavior.

Sonya cleared her throat.

"Ms. Kwong, you look better."

A smile appeared.

"Thanks, Sonya."

Ling slowed briefly.

"I don't remember much, but I think you helped me Friday night too, right?"

Color flooded Sonya's face so quickly that even Ling noticed. Sonya nodded, unable to meet her eyes.

"Yes."

Ling's brows furrowed slightly.

That was...

An odd reaction.

Deciding not to dwell on it, Ling continued into her office while Sonya followed behind. As soon as she sat down, she reached for the stack of documents waiting on her desk.

"From now on, cancel everything past five."

Sonya blinked.

"Every day?"

"Every day."

Sonya immediately nodded.

"Yes, Ms. Kwong."

Sonya unlocked her tablet and began scrolling through the calendar, mentally rearranging the meetings that would now need to be moved.

A few minutes later, the office door suddenly opened without a knock.

Both women looked up.

The second Sonya recognized the visitor, her posture straightened unconsciously.

The woman from before.

A smile appeared on Ling’s face.

"Teerak."

Her entire expression softened.

"What are you doing here?"

Orm crossed the room carrying a lunch bag.

"P'Wen told me you forgot your lunch."

She set the bag down on Ling's desk.

"And I have a meeting nearby anyway."

Ling stood and circled around the desk to press a kiss against Orm's temple.

Across from them, Sonya nearly dropped her tablet.

Orm blinked before glancing toward her, only to find the assistant suddenly very interested in her screen. When she looked back at Ling, suspicion was already forming.

Ling hated public displays of affection in the office, especially in front of employees, which meant this was absolutely intentional.

Her eyes narrowed slightly and a smile slowly appeared. One that clearly said:

We're talking about this later.

Ling merely shrugged, completely unbothered, before turning toward Sonya.

"Sonya, this is Orm."

She placed a hand lightly against Orm's shoulder.

"My girlfriend and the Marketing Director at LumiTech."

Sonya listened attentively.

"We'll be working with LumiTech soon."

This time Orm's eyes widened. She turned toward Ling so quickly that Ling almost laughed.

"What?"

Ling ignored her.

"Also," she continued calmly, "Orm has full access to AW. If you see her around, there's no need to announce her."

Sonya looked between the two women before nodding.

"Understood, Ms. Kwong."

The second the acknowledgement was given, Ling's attention immediately returned to Orm as though Sonya no longer existed.

"Baby."

Orm stared.

"Do you have to go back to work now?"

Still stunned, she nodded.

Mostly because she was still trying to process the fact that AW and LumiTech were apparently partnering and she somehow hadn't known.

Noticing the confusion written all over Orm's face, Ling leaned closer and lowered her voice.

"LumiTech's CEO has ties to the Kwongs."

Orm listened carefully.

"But I didn't do anything."

Ling's expression remained sincere.

"Everything you've earned there is because of you. I only heard about the partnership from my dad."

The explanation made sense, and Orm found herself relaxing almost immediately. More than that, she trusted Ling completely. If Ling said she hadn't interfered, then she hadn't.

"I have to go to my meeting soon."

A small smile appeared.

"I'll see you at home?"

Instead of answering, Ling leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

Orm immediately blushed.

"Bye."

Orm shoved Ling away lightly before turning toward the door, leaving Ling laughing before a pout formed when she realized Orm was actually leaving.

Still standing beside the desk, Sonya watched the interaction unfold.

In all the months she'd worked for Ling, she had never seen her CEO smile like that, pout like that, or look at someone with so much obvious affection. It was embarrassingly cute, and a painful part of her wished she were the one standing where Orm had been.

Maybe Orm sensed it or maybe she simply couldn't resist because just before reaching the door, Orm stopped.

Turned around.

Walked back.

And before anyone could react, she grabbed Ling's face and pressed a quick kiss directly to her lips.

Then she immediately turned and walked out without saying a single word.

The office fell silent.

Ling remained standing there long after Orm had left, a smile lingering on her face as she continued staring at the closed door. The smile was so soft and helplessly in love that it almost hurt to look at.

Only when Sonya cleared her throat did she finally blink and return to reality.

"Hm?"

Sonya glanced down at her tablet and began giving her CEO a rundown of the day's schedule.

A few minutes later, Sonya returned to her desk outside as the executive floor gradually settled back into its usual rhythm of emails, schedules, meetings, and deadlines.

Yet despite the normalcy surrounding her, her thoughts kept drifting back to the way Ling had looked at Orm, and the way Orm had looked at Ling in return.

Then the memory of Friday night resurfaced.

—

Sonya couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from Ling.

Slowly, almost without realizing it, Sonya rested a hand against Ling's shoulder and leaned forward.

Ling didn't react. Her eyes remained closed and her breathing uneven, and for one terrible moment Sonya convinced herself that Ling wouldn't know she was there.

Then suddenly, a weak hand pushed against her shoulder.

Sonya froze.

Ling's eyes never opened and her head remained tilted slightly to the side, yet somehow she still knew someone was there.

"Need to..." Ling murmured.

The words were slurred together. It was barely audible.

"Need to tell... Orm..."

Sonya swallowed.

"Orm?"

A small sigh escaped Ling.

"...girlfriend."

The word hit harder than it should have.

Immediately, Sonya pulled her hand away and straightened. A thousand thoughts crashed through her mind at once.

Ling had never mentioned having a girlfriend. At least not to her.

Then another memory surfaced.

The woman who had appeared unannounced on the executive floor. Beautiful and terrifying. The only person Sonya had ever seen walk into Ling's office without an appointment and somehow made two hours of the CEO's schedule clear without even asking.

At the time, Sonya had wondered who she was.

Now she knew.

Realization settled heavily inside her chest, followed almost immediately by disappointment.

Ling was taken.

The thought shouldn't have hurt, yet somehow it did. Worse than the disappointment was the shame that followed.

Hot.

Sharp.

Embarrassing.

Because it wasn't just that Ling had a girlfriend.

It was what Sonya had almost done.

Ling had been sick, vulnerable, and barely conscious, and Sonya had still leaned in.

The realization made her stomach twist.

"What the hell is wrong with me?"

The words escaped under her breath.

She looked away, unable to even look at Ling anymore.

Embarrassed by herself.

Disgusted with herself.

Without wasting another second, Sonya grabbed Ling's phone from the desk and carefully placed it into her hand.

Ling's fingers immediately curled weakly around it.

Sonya took a step back.

Then another.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Kwong."

The apology came so quietly she wasn't even sure she'd spoken it aloud.

A moment later, she turned and walked out of the office, past her desk, through the lobby, and out of the building entirely. She didn't stop until the cool night air hit her face.

Even then, the embarrassment lingered.

Because for the first time in a very long time, Sonya didn't particularly like the person she'd been a few minutes ago.

—

A part of her still felt guilty for leaving that night.

Looking back, she knew she probably should have stayed. Should have called someone. Should have made sure Ling got home safely.

But at the time, her thoughts had been spiraling so quickly that she hadn't trusted herself to remain in the same room.

She had needed distance, air, and most of all, to get away from the person she'd almost become in that office.

At least Ling was okay. That realization brought some comfort.

Whatever happened after Sonya left, Ling had made it home safely, and judging by the way her attention never seemed to stray far from Orm, Orm had clearly taken very good care of her.

The thought made a small smile tug at Sonya's lips, only for it to disappear again moments later because there was no denying it.

Ling and Orm looked good together.

Painfully good.

The kind of couple that made perfect sense the moment you saw them standing side by side.

The memory made something ache quietly inside her chest, not because she genuinely believed she ever had a chance, but because it forced her to finally acknowledge something she'd spent so long trying to ignore.

She liked Ling far more than she should and to the point she almost made an unforgivable mistake.

The realization was uncomfortable, embarrassing, and entirely her problem.

Ling had done nothing wrong. She had been kind, professional, respectful, and everything a good boss should be.

The feelings belonged to Sonya, and dealing with them was her responsibility alone.

With a quiet sigh, she looked down at the schedule waiting on her screen.

That settled it.

From now on, she would keep her feelings exactly where they belonged. Hidden, managed, and firmly under control.

She could admire Ling from afar. That was harmless, and it was all it would ever be.

Because Ling deserved a competent employee she could trust, and Sonya refused to become the kind of person who inserted herself into someone else's relationship.

She wasn't a homewrecker.

More importantly, after seeing the way Ling and Orm looked at each other, she wouldn't have wanted to come between them even if she could.

Some things were obvious and whatever existed between those two women was one of them.

Sonya took a slow breath.

Then another.

Finally, she pushed the thoughts aside and returned her attention to the mountain of work waiting for her.

—

Seeing Orm cry and worry over her had left a much deeper impression than Ling was willing to admit. So true to her word, she stopped overworking herself.

At first, everyone at AW assumed the new schedule would last a week at most before the CEO inevitably returned to her usual habits.

They were wrong.

Ling began leaving the office at a reasonable hour almost every day.

There were still occasional international meetings she couldn't avoid. Investors in different time zones weren't particularly interested in her work-life balance.

Even then, however, Ling refused to let those meetings bleed into the rest of her evening.

If an investor attempted to corner her afterward with a "quick question," Ling simply smiled and said no. Politely, firmly, and often enough that it eventually became something of a sport. Several executives privately joked that watching her dodge investors after six o'clock deserved Olympic recognition.

By the third week, everyone had learned the same lesson. Once CEO Kwong’s final mandatory meeting ended, she was unavailable. No exceptions.

Because someone was waiting for her at home.

One Thursday evening, Ling walked through the front door to find Orm standing in the kitchen wearing an apron.

The sight immediately made Ling suspicious. Unfortunately, Orm's smile did absolutely nothing to reassure her.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm cooking."

Ling stared before glancing toward the four housekeepers standing nearby. None of them looked particularly confident.

Dao looked concerned, Wen looked exhausted, Kik appeared to be mentally preparing emergency services, and Min seemed to be silently praying.

Ling slowly turned back toward her girlfriend.

"You?"

Orm immediately placed a hand against her chest, looking deeply offended.

"Why did you ask it like that?"

"But am I wrong?"

"I'm learning."

Ling narrowed her eyes.

"No one learns voluntarily."

"I wanted to surprise you."

The answer tugged at Ling's heart immediately, but it did not make the situation any less dangerous.

Twenty minutes later, the entire kitchen resembled a disaster zone.

Ling had quickly discovered that Orm's cooking abilities were somehow even worse than she had feared.

Much worse.

Catastrophically worse.

Orm kept adding ingredients before Ling told her to, confused sugar and salt twice, dropped an entire bowl, forgot half the measurements, and somehow got flour all over Wen despite her standing the furthest away from the kitchen island.

To this day, nobody could explain how that happened.

Least of all Orm.

"I genuinely don't understand how you did that."

"I don't either."

The housekeepers hovered nearby like anxious parents watching toddlers handle fireworks.

Three separate times, Wen nearly stepped forward to intervene. Twice, Dao physically stopped her.

Ling, meanwhile, was trying her best to salvage dinner.

"You need to stir."

"I am stirring."

Ling stared at the pot.

"Orm."

"What?"

"You're drawing a line."

"It's a stirring line."

"There is no such thing as a stirring line."

"There is now."

Ling closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, Orm was still moving the spoon back and forth in the exact same path.

"You're excavating."

"I'm helping."

"You're creating a trench."

"That's a very strong accusation."

Ling closed her eyes and counted to five.

Then ten.

When she opened them again, Orm was still smiling at her.

"Aww teerak, you're so patient."

"I'm actually not."

"You are with me."

"I'm considering moving out."

The grin only widened.

"Then I'll just move with you."

Ling could only look at her because Orm somehow looked completely sincere.

Unfortunately, that was the problem.

It was very difficult to stay annoyed at someone whose immediate response to being abandoned was to volunteer to follow her anyway.

Behind them, Min quietly turned away to hide her smile.

A few minutes later, Ling found herself with sauce on her cheek, flour across her apron, and something sticky in her hair despite having absolutely no memory of how any of it had happened.

Orm somehow looked even worse.

At some point syrup had become involved.

Ling paused.

They didn't even own syrup.

Which raised a much more concerning question.

What exactly had they been trying to make?

She was an excellent cook. Not on Dao or Wen's level, but more than capable of feeding herself. Yet somehow, after less than an hour in the kitchen with Orm, they had created a scene that looked like a group of unsupervised children had been given unlimited ingredients and complete freedom.

The counters were covered in mystery splatters, flour dusted half the room, and nobody could confidently identify what was currently bubbling in one of the pots.

At this point, even the housekeepers had given up trying to understand what was happening.

Then the doorbell rang and everyone froze. Dao glanced toward the entrance.

"I'll get it."

A minute later, footsteps echoed through the house before abruptly stopping.

The sudden silence that followed was concerning enough to make Ling frown and turn around.

"P’Dao?"

Two familiar figures stood in the kitchen entrance.

Papa Kwong and Mama Kwong.

Both carrying overnight bags.

Both completely frozen.

The entire room seemed to come to a standstill as they took in the scene before them: four visibly concerned housekeepers, a kitchen that looked like it had survived a natural disaster, and their daughter standing beside Orm with flour, sauce, and some unidentified sticky substance decorating both of them.

For several long seconds, nobody said a word.

Finally, Mama Kwong looked at her daughter, surveyed the state of the kitchen, then slowly looked back at her daughter again.

"...Should we come back later?"

Orm immediately tried to make herself presentable, which only succeeded in smearing flour and sauce across even more of her face. Beside her, Ling closed her eyes and took a long, resigned breath.

Behind them, one of the housekeepers audibly sighed in relief.

Apparently everyone had managed to survive long enough for reinforcements to arrive.

Fortunately, Kik recovered first.

"I'll take your bags."

Without waiting for a response, she hurried forward and took the luggage from Papa and Mama Kwong before either of them could protest.

"Your room will be prepared."

Papa Kwong nodded distractedly, his gaze fixed on the kitchen and, more specifically, the alarming amount of ingredients decorating every surface.

Kik and Min quickly disappeared upstairs with the luggages, clearly deciding that escaping the awkwardness was preferable to remaining in it.

The remaining housekeepers looked tempted to follow. Unfortunately for them, they were trapped.

Mama Kwong slowly looked around the kitchen once more.

"Should I ask what happened?"

Ling glanced at the disaster surrounding them.

"No."

"Are you playing with the ingredients or cooking?"

Ling looked at Orm.

Orm looked at Ling.

Neither of them had an answer.

Papa Kwong crossed his arms.

"You two were making dinner."

"Correct."

"And somehow declared war on the kitchen."

Ling sighed.

"Also correct."

From beside her, Orm raised a finger.

"In my defense…"

"No."

Orm lowered her finger.

"Fair."

Before the conversation could continue, Dao cleared her throat.

"Wen and I prepared backup dinner."

Orm slowly turned toward the two housekeepers. The look of betrayal on her face was immediate.

"What?"

Dao looked entirely unapologetic.

"When you texted earlier saying you were going to cook tonight, we thought it would be wise to have a contingency plan."

"You don't trust me?"

Dao and Wen exchanged a glance.

Before either of them could answer, Mama Kwong laughed.

"Judging from the state of this kitchen, they were right to doubt."

A snort escaped Ling before she could stop it.

Orm whipped her head toward her girlfriend.

Ling immediately looked away.

Dao seized the opportunity to also escape.

"We'll go prepare dinner now."

Without waiting for a response, they began herding everyone out of the disaster zone. The housekeepers moved toward the kitchen again after Papa and Mama Kwong were guided into the dining area.

Only four people remained.

The silence lasted approximately five seconds.

Papa Kwong looked both women up and down, then he sighed.

"Go wash up before your bodies become an ant paradise."

Orm gasped. Immediately clasping her hands together before bowing slightly.

"Sorry, Papa."

Then she turned and practically sprinted toward the stairs.

Ling mirrored the exact same gesture within a second.

"Sorry, Baba."

And promptly followed Orm.

The second they reached the living room, all dignity disappeared.

Both women began subtly trying to push past each other.

"Move."

"You move."

"I live here."

"So do I."

"You got syrup in my hair."

"You got flour in mine."

Neither appeared willing to concede.

Mama and Papa Kwong watched as the pair disappeared upstairs while quietly attempting to shoulder each other out of the way.

The moment they were gone, Mama Kwong laughed softly.

"It's like having teenagers again."

Papa Kwong smiled.

It had been a long time since he'd seen his daughter so relaxed, so playful, and so obviously happy.

"I missed seeing Ling this way."

His voice softened.

"Orm is good for her."

Mama Kwong's smile lingered.

"She really is."

For a moment, neither spoke. The look they exchanged carried years of regret as both remembered the pressure they had placed on Ling, the mistakes they had made in Hong Kong, and how close they had come to ruining her happiness with their own hands.

Eventually, Mama Kwong reached for her husband's hand.

Papa Kwong squeezed it gently.

Upstairs, they could hear Ling and Orm still arguing about who had caused the greater culinary disaster.

—

Dinner was surprisingly tame compared to the disaster that had existed in the kitchen barely half an hour earlier.

The dining table was warm and comfortable, filled with conversation instead of flour.

Ling sat quietly, occasionally adding to the discussion, but mostly content to watch.

Specifically, she watched Orm.

"...the AR component is what excites me the most."

Orm's eyes practically sparkled as she spoke.

Across the table, Papa Kwong listened attentively.

"Explain."

Orm nodded eagerly.

"AW Hospitality owns hotels all across Asia. Imagine guests walking into one of your flagship properties and using AR navigation through their phones."

Papa Kwong raised an eyebrow.

"Navigation?"

"Directions to amenities. Interactive property tours. Real-time translations for international guests. Historical information about local landmarks. Personalized recommendations."

Orm picked up a napkin and began sketching ideas with a pen that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere, because Ling had absolutely no idea where she'd gotten it from.

"The AI side handles guest preferences. It learns what guests use, where they spend time, what services they book."

Papa Kwong leaned forward.

"And then?"

"It anticipates needs before they ask."

The older man smiled. Now she had his attention.

"If a guest always books a spa appointment on the second day of their stay, the system can recommend available time slots automatically."

"If they prefer vegetarian meals?"

"The restaurants receive the information ahead of time."

"If they always request extra pillows?"

"The room is prepared before they arrive."

Papa Kwong nodded slowly.

"Personalized luxury."

"Exactly."

Mama Kwong looked impressed.

Ling wasn't surprised. One of Orm's greatest strengths was that she never confined herself to her job title. While her role was marketing, she had spent years learning every part of the business around her, from product development to engineering strategy, which meant she could hold her own in conversations that many people assumed were outside her expertise.

Ling loved watching it happen. There was something captivating about the confidence, passion, and intelligence that lit up Orm whenever she spoke about her work.

Even after all this time, she could still sit there and listen to Orm talk for hours.

"...and that's just hospitality."

Orm continued.

"AW Retail could benefit too."

Papa Kwong immediately laughed.

"You're already pitching phase two?"

"Always."

The grin that appeared on Orm's face was infectious.

"Imagine AR shopping experiences inside AW malls."

Ling smiled into her glass, quietly watching as Papa Kwong looked delighted, Mama Kwong looked proud, and Orm thrived under the attention.

Eventually, the conversation shifted from business to easier topics like family, travel, company gossip, and future plans.

At some point, Ling realized she hadn't spoken for nearly ten minutes.

No one seemed to notice or care because somehow her parents and Orm were now having an entirely separate conversation without her.

Mama Kwong placed another piece of food onto Orm's plate.

"Eat more."

"Thank you, Mama."

Papa Kwong immediately added something else.

"You've gotten thinner."

"I haven't."

"You have."

"I really haven't. I’m pretty sure P’Dao secretly ensures I gain weight everyday."

"Eat anyway."

Orm obediently accepted the food.

Ling glanced down at her plate and frowned.

Empty.

When she looked back up, Orm's plate contained enough food to feed a small village.

"Ma."

Mama Kwong looked up.

"Yes?"

"You forgot me."

"No, I didn't."

Without a word, Ling pointed at her plate. The evidence was difficult to argue with.

Mama Kwong glanced at it.

"Oh."

Then she immediately turned back toward Orm.

"Try this too."

Ling stared in disbelief.

Papa Kwong wasn't any better.

"Have more rice."

The rice went onto Orm's plate.

Not Ling's.

Orm looked delighted while Ling looked betrayed.

"This happens every time."

Neither parent denied it because it was true.

Ever since Orm had become a regular fixture in their lives, both of her parents had developed a habit of treating her like an additional daughter.

Sometimes a favorite daughter.

Ling had opinions about that.

Unfortunately, nobody cared about those opinions.

Across the table, Orm looked happier than Ling had seen her in days, and Ling understood exactly why. Orm loved the casual affection, the concern, the attention, and most of all, the feeling of belonging.

Her own parents loved her deeply. Ling knew that. But they were often traveling, attending events, or managing responsibilities that kept them away.

The warmth of a crowded dinner table wasn't something Orm experienced often.

Here, however, she never had to ask for it.

Mama Kwong worried if she'd eaten enough. Papa Kwong asked about her work. Both parents remembered tiny details from conversations weeks earlier.

Even the four housekeepers fussed over her constantly, reminding her to eat, packing snacks when she worked late, and scolding her whenever she skipped meals. Somewhere along the way, the relationship had become something far beyond employer and employee.

They felt like family and they treated her like one too.

Every time she visited, someone was asking whether she was tired, whether she'd eaten, whether she wanted fruit, tea, or something to take home. The attention was relentless.

And Orm secretly loved every second of it.

Ling always noticed the same expression appear on her face whenever it happened. A look that seemed to say:

Oh. Someone remembered.

The realization always made Ling's chest feel warm.

Because no matter how successful Orm became, no matter how confident she appeared, there was still a small part of her that carried a quiet loneliness whenever it came to family. Her parents loved her deeply, but they were often away, and she rarely spoke about how much she missed having them around.

Ling’s parents' affection couldn't erase that, but it helped.

And seeing the people she loved most grow to love each other just as much was one of Ling's favorite things in the world.

—

After dinner, the four of them migrated into the living room.

Papa Kwong sat on one end of the sofa with Mama Kwong beside him while Ling and Orm claimed the opposite couch.

The conversation eventually shifted to Papa and Mama Kwong's upcoming anniversary trip to Paris. The itinerary included three weeks of river cruises, museums, sightseeing, and, if Mama Kwong was to be believed, a modest amount of shopping. If Papa Kwong was to be believed, however, the entire trip was now just an elaborate excuse for shopping.

"I don't know why you're exaggerating." Papa Kwong looked at his wife. "You have an entire spreadsheet."

"It's called being organized."

"You color coded it."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"It should be."

Across the room, Ling quietly looked away.

Orm immediately noticed.

"Oh my god."

Papa Kwong pointed at his daughter.

"That's where she gets it from."

Mama Kwong looked delighted.

"Of course it is."

Ling sighed.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your vacation planning spreadsheet had tabs."

"It needed tabs."

"It had backup tabs."

"Those were important."

Orm laughed so hard she nearly spilled her tea. Then her phone vibrated. She glanced at the screen.

"Oh."

Ling immediately looked over.

"Everything okay?"

Orm nodded.

"It's Mae."

"Go."

Orm stood and answered the call before stepping out onto the balcony. The sliding door closed behind her.

Silence settled briefly over the room until Ling straightened.

"Baba. Ma."

Something in her tone immediately drew both of their attention. Both parents looked at her expectantly.

Ling took a breath.

"I have something important I want to tell you."

The seriousness in her voice made them exchange a quick glance before returning their full attention to their daughter.

Ling didn't hesitate.

"I'm going to ask Orm to marry me."

The words came out confidently, but beneath that confidence was a hint of nervousness that Ling rarely allowed anyone to see. Because despite everything, some part of her still wanted their approval.

Papa Kwong slowly placed his phone on the armrest beside him and clasped his hands together.

"That sounds less like you're asking for our blessing and more like you're informing us."

Ling winced.

"I don't mean any disrespect."

Her voice remained steady.

"I just know she's the person I want to marry."

She looked toward the balcony. Toward Orm.

"There has never been anyone else who made me feel this way. I’ve loved her since I was seventeen, before I even knew that it was love."

Mama Kwong adjusted the teacup in her hands.

"And if we say no?"

The question caught Ling completely off guard.

Her eyes widened.

"What?"

"If we don't approve?"

Ling stared at both parents in disbelief, looking both confused and faintly offended.

"Why would you say no?"

Papa Kwong remained perfectly calm.

"Answer the question."

Ling looked between them.

"Orm is perfect."

The complete lack of reaction somehow made everything worse. Mama Kwong looked at her husband, and after a brief moment, Papa Kwong nodded.

"Orm is young."

Ling frowned.

"Okay?"

"She has a bright future ahead of her."

"And?"

"So many opportunities."

"What does that even mean?"

The frustration in Ling's voice was becoming increasingly obvious.

"We're basically the same age."

Papa Kwong remained silent so Ling continued.

"And who's to say she won't have all those opportunities while being married to me?"

Mama Kwong spoke next.

"What your baba is trying to say is that maybe it's too early."

Ling immediately shook her head.

"No."

"Maybe you'll fall in love with someone else."

"No."

"Or maybe she will."

The response came instantly.

"She won't."

Mama Kwong raised an eyebrow.

"You sound very confident."

"I am."

Ling sat forward.

"I know she won't."

Then more quietly:

"And I know I won't."

For a moment, nobody spoke as Ling looked between her parents, confusion and hurt written plainly across her face.

"I thought you loved Orm. Why are you against us?"

Her voice rose before she remembered Orm was only a few feet away on the balcony. Immediately, she lowered it again.

Papa Kwong sighed.

"We do love her."

"Then why—"

"But you're our only daughter."

Ling stared with tears starting to form from sheer frustration.

"Her family isn't from the same background as ours." Papa Kwong continued, "They own a successful export company."

"Isn’t that good then?"

"It's not remotely comparable to the Kwongs."

That was apparently the wrong thing to say. Ling rose to her feet so quickly both parents were mildly alarmed.

"I DON’T CARE." Anger made her voice tremble. "I don't care about any of that."

She pointed toward the balcony.

"I love Orm."

Papa Kwong opened his mouth but Ling didn't let him speak.

"She is the only one I want to marry. If it’s not Orm, it’s no one."

The words rang with a certainty that left no room for argument.

"She is perfect."

Mama Kwong tried not to smile but Ling didn't notice.

"She is smart, capable, brilliant, warm, caring, kind, considerate, energetic, funny, beautiful, patient..."

Ling punctuated each trait by raising another finger until she eventually ran out of one hand and had to start on the other.

Neither parent interrupted her. Mostly because they were curious how long the list was going to get.

Papa Kwong finally started laughing hard enough that he had to hold up a hand, prompting Ling to stop mid-list and look at him in confusion.

"You can stop listing adjectives." The laughter remained in his voice. "We approve."

The room went silent while Ling stood there speechless.

Mama Kwong looked fondly at her husband before turning toward her daughter.

"We were testing you."

Ling looked horrified.

"What?"

"We wanted to see how willing you'd be to stand up for your future wife."

For several seconds, Ling simply stood there, processing what she'd just heard.

"Really?"

The question came out so small it barely sounded like her.

"Really."

"Yes."

Both parents answered at the same time.

Mama Kwong smiled.

"You have our blessing."

Papa Kwong nodded.

"You had it a long time ago."

Then Mama Kwong added:

"Although… you should probably propose soon."

Ling frowned.

"Why?"

"Because if you wait too long, someone else might beat you to it."

Mama Kwong sighed dramatically.

"And then I'll lose my dream daughter-in-law."

Ling's mouth fell open.

Papa Kwong nodded gravely, as though losing Orm as a daughter-in-law would be one of the greatest tragedies the family had ever endured.

"A tragedy."

The next thing either parent knew, their daughter launched herself between them. Almost knocking over the tea that Mama Kwong set down on the table moments ago.

"Thank you."

Ling wrapped both arms around them.

"Thank you."

Mama Kwong laughed while Papa Kwong patted her head.

"Thank you."

The words tumbled out again and again, a rare glimpse of vulnerability from a woman who usually kept her emotions carefully controlled.

Then the balcony door opened and Orm stepped back inside, only to stop short at the sight before her. Her eyes flicked from Mama Kwong, to Papa Kwong, and finally to Ling, who was hugging both of them while looking suspiciously emotional.

Concern appeared immediately.

"Is everything okay?"

Ling looked up, forgetting for a moment that her eyes were still wet. The second Orm noticed, concern immediately flooded her face.

"Teerak."

She crossed the room in seconds.

"What happened?"

Both hands gently cupped Ling's cheeks.

"What's wrong?"

Her voice softened.

"Tell me."

Ling could only smile at her, hopelessly and completely in love.

On the sofa, Mama and Papa Kwong exchanged a look because after spending more time with Orm over the past year, they had come to the same conclusion.

They had long since grown to love Orm as one of their own, and if Ling was determined to marry someone, they couldn't imagine a better person standing beside their daughter.

Meanwhile, Orm was still fussing.

"Why are you crying?"

Ling shook her head.

"These are happy tears."

Orm didn't look convinced.

"I'll tell you another time."

Orm's thumbs gently wiped away the tears beneath Ling's eyes before she finally exhaled, visibly relieved.

"Okay."

Behind her, Mama Kwong immediately mouthed: Propose soon.

A laugh threatened to escape, but Ling settled for a smile and a small squeeze of Orm's hand instead.

—

Ling and Orm were preparing to head out.

Orm sat at the vanity table applying skincare, her hair clipped back loosely as she patted serum into her cheeks with the kind of focus she usually reserved for actual work emergencies.

Ling stood inside the walk-in closet sorting through shirts, though "sorting" was generous considering she'd already changed multiple times and was trying very hard not to think about it.

From the vanity, Orm hummed softly while reaching for moisturizer. Ling casually leaned out of the closet to look at her.

White baby tee and jeans. A simple outfit that somehow managed to be both pretty and incredibly dangerous. Ling stared for a second too long before retreating back into the closet.

Orm's hand paused midway through applying moisturizer. A moment later, Ling emerged from the closet wearing a white button-up and jeans.

Orm took one look at her and narrowed her eyes.

"Did you just match me?"

"No."

The answer came suspiciously fast.

Ling adjusted her sleeves as though that would somehow make her less guilty.

Orm stared, waiting for Ling to falter but Ling avoided eye contact and began rolling the sleeves up to her forearms.

Unfortunately, that only did terrible things to Orm’s heart rate.

Orm's gaze drifted to the movement before she could stop herself, watching the fabric slide up and reveal the toned muscle beneath. Then her attention shifted to the few open buttons at Ling's collar, the sharp line of her throat, the way the white shirt sat effortlessly against her frame.

Ling was annoyingly handsome.

The sight dragged Orm backward for a moment, back to university days when she used to pull Ling around the mall and pretend she wasn't aware of how good Ling looked in every mirror they passed.

Her face warmed before she could stop it. Fortunately, Ling didn't notice.

Ling was much too busy panicking internally because this wasn't supposed to feel like a big deal. To Orm, it was just an errand day involving a few stops, some paperwork, and perhaps dinner afterward.

To Ling, however, it was much more than that.

It was their first real date in a while, hidden beneath casual plans and convenient excuses because she wanted everything to be perfect without drawing suspicion too early.

The problem was that Orm knew her far too well, which meant maintaining the illusion was becoming increasingly difficult.

Before they left, Ling lingered near the doorway and pretended to check her phone while watching Orm choose shoes.

Orm slipped into a pair of white sneakers.

Ling looked down at them then disappeared back into the closet. A minute later, she returned wearing her own white sneakers.

Orm looked at the shoes.

Then at Ling.

Ling looked away.

"Ready?"

Orm pressed her lips together to hide a smile. Orm could’ve asked again but Ling was clearly deep in denial, and Orm decided she was far too entertained to ruin it yet.

"Ready."

—

Bangkok moved around them in its usual evening rhythm.

Traffic rolled slowly through glowing streets, motorbikes slipped between cars, and the city lights reflected against the windshield as Ling drove with one hand on the wheel.

Orm sat in the passenger seat, scrolling through her phone with her legs tucked comfortably to the side.

Eventually, Ling cleared her throat.

"I need to stop by our university for a brief moment."

Orm looked up.

"Hm?"

"I need to sign some documents about the scholarship funding."

"Okay."

Orm returned to scrolling through her phone as Ling exhaled quietly beside her. The sound didn't escape Orm's notice, but she wisely kept whatever observation she had to herself.

When they reached campus, Ling pulled into a reserved parking space near the front entrance.

The sight made Orm pause.

"You have reserved parking here?"

Ling turned off the engine.

"I fund scholarships."

"Of course."

Before getting out, Ling glanced over.

"You can stay in the car if you want, or you can come with me."

Orm looked at her for a few seconds, unconvinced. Ling's tone carried the kind of forced casualness that usually meant she was up to something, but after a moment she decided to play along and unbuckled her seatbelt.

"I'll come."

As they walked along the familiar pathways, nostalgia settled around them almost immediately.

The campus looked different and exactly the same all at once. There were new signs, freshly painted walls, and unfamiliar students moving between buildings, yet the air still carried something familiar, as though years of memories remained tucked into corners they hadn't visited in a very long time.

Orm glanced around.

"Why do you have to sign papers so late? It's already past six."

Ling kept walking.

"Not sure."

"You're not sure?"

"The dean said something about delayed paperwork."

Orm side-eyed her.

"That sounds fake."

"It's not."

"It sounds very fake."

Ling's refusal to elaborate only made everything sound significantly more fake. A few minutes later, Orm slowed her pace before stopping altogether.

"Uh..."

Ling looked back innocently while Orm glanced around.

"I know we're getting old, but did you already forget where the admin building is?"

The corner of Ling's mouth twitched despite her obvious attempt to suppress it.

Orm immediately narrowed her eyes.

"Ling."

Instead of answering, Ling slipped her hand into Orm's and smiled. It wasn't the polite smile she used with everyone else, but something softer and more revealing, carrying a nervous excitement that immediately caught Orm's attention.

Before she could ask another question, Ling gently pulled her toward a different direction, and Orm followed despite the growing confusion written plainly across her face.

"Why are we going towards arts building?"

"You'll see."

"I hate when you say that."

"No, you don't."

A few moments later, they rounded the corner behind the building.

Orm stopped.

The small courtyard behind the arts building sat quietly beneath the evening sky. The old tree was still there, along with the benches and the patch of bushes where a litter of stray kittens had once hidden.

Time had changed the campus but not this place.

Orm recognized it instantly.

This place.

This exact place.

The day with the kittens.

The memory surfaced gently at first, then all at once.

The two of them crouched beside those bushes years ago after Ling had dragged Orm to show her something. Orm had complained the entire walk there, only to become more excited than anyone had a right to be the second she spotted the tiny kittens hidden beneath the leaves.

They had sat there watching the small animals sleep in a tangled pile together while Orm smiled so brightly that Ling had found it impossible to look away.

Then the conversation had shifted and Orm had asked quietly:

"Do you love Gorya?"

At the time, Ling hadn't answered immediately.

Orm remembered the pause.

Slowly, Orm turned toward her.

"Ling?"

The teasing had disappeared from her voice causing Ling's heart to nearly stop.

Because now that they were here, now that the moment had finally arrived, everything she had rehearsed vanished from her mind.

She had written it down.

Edited it.

Practiced it.

Destroyed every version because none of them sounded good enough.

And now, standing in front of Orm in the place where she had first realized what love felt like, Ling could barely remember how to breathe.

Orm stepped closer, concern immediately softening her features. Whatever confusion she'd been feeling moments ago faded as her attention settled entirely on Ling, her eyes searching her face for an explanation.

"Teerak?"

The nickname came out quietly, wrapped in affection, and for a moment Ling found herself wondering how anyone was supposed to stand in front of Orm and not fall in love with her.

Ling looked nervous which only caused Orm's concern to deepen.

"Why do you look like you're about to throw up?"

That startled a laugh out of Ling.

"Thank you."

"I'm serious."

"I know."

Orm reached for her other hand.

"Are you okay?"

Ling looked at her.

At the woman who had been her best friend, her heartbreak, her home, her second chance, and the center of every future she could imagine.

The woman who had loved her through fear, absence, grief, and every part of Ling that was still healing.

The woman she wanted beside her for ordinary mornings, difficult nights, grocery runs, arguments about cooking, Bangkok traffic, and every year she was lucky enough to have.

Ling's eyes softened.

"I am."

Her thumb brushed gently across Orm's knuckles.

"I just needed to bring you here."

Orm glanced around again.

"Here?"

Ling nodded.

"This is where I realized I loved you."

Orm went completely still.

The confession landed quietly between them, gentle enough not to demand attention and yet heavy enough to steal her breath anyway.

For a moment, she forgot how to speak.

Her eyes searched Ling's face as though trying to memorize every detail, and when understanding finally settled in, something fragile and beautiful appeared in her expression.

She remembered the way Ling had looked at her after answering her question. A look she hadn't understood then and hadn't thought much about afterward.

But standing here now, in the exact place where that conversation had happened, something about the memory felt different.

Because the expression Ling wore back then looked remarkably similar to the one she has been wearing for months now.

Ling’s pulse thundered in her ears.

"I didn't understand it back then. Not completely."

She smiled faintly, almost embarrassed.

"I thought love was supposed to feel dramatic. Obvious. Like something that announced itself."

Orm's eyes had already started to shine.

"But with you, it was different."

Ling's voice grew softer.

"It was small things first. Wanting to tell you everything. Wanting to be wherever you were. Wanting to make your life easier without thinking about it."

Ling glanced toward the bushes.

"Do you remember what you asked me here?"

Orm's lips trembled slightly.

"...The love question."

Ling nodded.

"The love question."

A soft laugh escaped both of them.

"You wanted to know how someone knows they're in love."

Ling swallowed.

"And the truth is..."

Her thumb brushed across Orm's hand.

"I did answer your question that day."

A faint smile touched her lips.

"But what I didn't tell you was that every reason I gave, every example I used, somehow pointed back to you."

Ling's gaze softened.

"I just wasn't brave enough to admit it yet."

For a moment, neither of them moved. Ling smiled through the emotion building in her chest.

"While you were watching those kittens, I couldn't stop watching you."

Orm's lips parted soundlessly, emotion stealing whatever response she might have had.

Ling took a slow breath.

"I was scared for a long time. Scared of ruining what we had. Scared of losing you. Then I did lose you for a while, and when I came back, I realized something."

She stepped closer.

"I don't want to spend the rest of my life almost telling you things."

Orm's tears spilled over. Ling reached up, brushing one away with her thumb.

"I don't want to love you quietly because I'm afraid. I don't want to wait for the perfect moment anymore because every moment with you is already more than I ever thought I could have."

Her own eyes were wet now.

"I love you, Orm Kornnaphat Sethratanapong."

Orm inhaled shakily, her eyes glistening as she tried and failed to hold back more tears. The sight tugged an immediate smile from Ling.

"I love you when you're impossible in the kitchen."

A watery laugh escaped Orm.

"I love you when you steal all the attention from my parents."

Orm laughed harder through the tears.

"I love you when you worry too much, when you pretend not to notice me matching you, when you make my life louder and softer at the same time."

Ling reached into her pocket.

The simple gesture stole the air from Orm's lungs.

Her eyes immediately locked onto Ling's hand, and when she saw the small velvet box emerge, the entire world seemed to stop.

For one suspended moment, nothing existed beyond the two of them.

Not the campus.

Not the evening sky.

Not the years that had brought them here.

Just this.

Just Ling.

Just the realization of what was about to happen.

"Teerak..."

Orm's voice broke.

Ling's own eyes glistened as she slowly lowered herself onto one knee.

A broken sound escaped Orm before she covered her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks almost instantly.

Because somehow, despite all the clues, despite all the suspicion, despite knowing Ling better than almost anyone in the world, she still hadn't been prepared for this moment.

Ling opened the small velvet box to reveal a simple, elegant ring, chosen with the same unwavering certainty she had always felt about Orm.

"I promised myself that if I ever got another chance to love you properly, I wouldn't waste it."

Her voice trembled now, but she didn't look away.

"So I'm asking you here, in the place where I first understood that my heart had already chosen you."

She smiled through her tears.

"Will you marry me?"

Orm could only stare at her, frozen in place, while Ling's heart threatened to stop entirely. Then, without warning, Orm collapsed to her knees in front of her, abandoning any attempt at grace in favor of getting closer.

Ling's eyes widened immediately as Orm practically launched herself forward.

She barely had enough time to react before instinct took over and she caught Orm against her, both arms wrapping around her waist to keep them both from ending up on the ground.

"Yes."

The answer left Orm’s lips without hesitation, trembling with emotion yet completely certain.

"Yes?"

"YES."

Orm was crying openly now.

"Of course yes."

Ling's face crumpled with relief just before Orm cupped her cheeks and kissed her. The ring box nearly slipped from Ling's hand in the process, but neither of them paid it any attention.

The kiss was messy and tearful and full of laughter, Orm half-crying against her mouth while Ling tried to smile and kiss her at the same time.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were kneeling on the ground behind the arts building like two emotionally unstable university students.

Which, somehow, felt appropriate.

Ling laughed breathlessly.

"I need to put the ring on you."

Orm held out her hand immediately.

Then pulled it back.

"Wait, is my hand ugly?"

Ling stared, caught somewhere between amusement and confusion.

"What?"

"I didn't moisturize enough."

"Orm."

"This is important."

Ling laughed so hard she nearly dropped the ring again.

"Give me your hand."

Orm held out her hand, still crying and laughing at the same time. With noticeably trembling fingers, Ling slid the ring onto her finger.

It fit perfectly.

For a long moment, neither of them looked away from it.

Then Orm lifted her gaze to Ling.

"My fiancée."

The word hit Ling so hard she had to close her eyes. When she opened them again, Orm was smiling at her with tears still on her cheeks.

Ling leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together.

"My wife."

"Not yet."

"Future wife."

Orm smiled.

"Better."

Ling kissed her again, slow and unhurried, pouring every promise she couldn't quite put into words into the gentle press of her lips.

And behind the arts building, in the quiet courtyard where everything had begun without either of them fully understanding it, Ling held Orm's hand and silently promised herself that this time, she would never let go.

—

The game began less than twenty-four hours after the proposal.

It was entirely Orm's idea.

Which, in hindsight, should have immediately concerned Ling.

The two of them had been lying in bed the morning after the proposal, Orm stretched comfortably across Ling's chest while admiring her ring for what was probably the hundredth time. Every few minutes, she would lift her hand into the air again and smile to herself.

Ling had simply watched, amused, hopelessly in love, and maybe slightly concerned.

Then Orm suddenly sat upright.

"We tell nobody."

Ling looked up from her phone. Her eyes narrowed immediately.

"Why?"

The smile that spread across Orm's face should have been warning enough.

It was the same smile she wore whenever she was about to create a problem and drag everyone else into it.

"I want to see how long it takes everyone to figure it out."

"Figure out what?"

Orm simply lifted her left hand and wiggled her fingers. The ring flashed in the morning light, and Ling immediately understood exactly where this conversation was headed.

"Orm."

"What?"

"We got engaged twelve hours ago."

"Exactly."

"Normal people tell their friends."

"That's boring."

Ling sighed because she knew Orm was already committed. The more Ling objected, the more determined she became.

Eventually, Ling made the mistake of laughing and that was all the encouragement Orm needed.

By the end of breakfast, the challenge had officially begun.

Looking back, Ling should have refused because Orm turned out to be absolutely terrible at keeping secrets. Not because she accidentally told anyone but because she possessed all the subtlety of a flashing billboard.

Within hours, she was practicing increasingly creative ways to display her left hand.

She reached for things she didn't need. Brushed her hair behind her ear every five minutes. Held coffee cups at suspicious angles. Rested her chin dramatically against her knuckles whenever anyone looked in her direction.

At one point, Ling caught her opening a door with her left hand despite standing on the wrong side for it to be convenient.

"Are you showing off the ring?"

"No."

"You absolutely are."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The answer might have been more convincing if Orm hadn't immediately lifted her hand into a patch of sunlight afterward.

Ling had known then that this game was going to be a disaster.

What she hadn't anticipated was how completely oblivious all of their friends would be.

The first victim was Junji.

—

Three days later, Ling and Orm met Junji for lunch.

Orm arrived wearing the ring.

Very visibly wearing the ring.

Ling had assumed she would at least attempt subtlety.

She was wrong.

Halfway through lunch, Orm somehow managed to brush her hair behind her ear seventeen separate times.

With her left hand.

Junji stared.

Orm took a sip of water.

With her left hand.

Junji stared harder.

Orm pointed at a menu item.

With her left hand.

Junji slowly lowered her chopsticks.

"What are you doing?"

"What?"

Junji's eyes narrowed.

"You've been showing me your left hand for twenty minutes."

Orm immediately placed both hands under the table.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Junji looked at Ling first. Ling immediately avoided eye contact.

When Junji looked back at Orm, she was greeted by the most suspiciously innocent smile she'd ever seen.

Junji narrowed her eyes before eventually shaking her head.

"No. Whatever weird thing you two are doing, I don't want to be involved."

The mystery remained unsolved, much to Orm's disappointment.

—

The most shocking failure belonged to Gina. Despite normally noticing everything about Orm, she spent the better part of a week complaining about work and somehow missed every single clue Orm threw at her.

Gina's irritation with her coworkers proved significantly more interesting than the giant clue sparkling on Orm’s left hand.

Orm had waved her left hand around so much during coffee that Ling genuinely worried she might dislocate her wrist.

Nothing.

Gina noticed nothing.

Finally, Orm gave up.

"Do you notice anything different about me?"

Gina looked up.

"Did you get a haircut?"

"No."

"New earrings?"

"No."

"Botox?"

"GINA."

Gina blinked.

"What?"

Orm nearly exploded. She had spent the entire week strategically positioning her left hand in Gina's line of sight, only for the woman to suggest Botox.

Ling, meanwhile, nearly inhaled her coffee trying not to laugh.

"Botox?" Orm asked in disbelief.

"It was a possibility."

"It was not."

"You said something was different."

"Something is different."

Gina looked at her thoughtfully, then glanced at her face again.

"New skincare routine?"

Orm looked ready to flip the table.

Ling immediately looked away before she lost the battle against laughter.

Orm stared at Gina.

Gina stared back.

The silence stretched until Gina returned to complaining about work.

Still.

Nothing.

—

Prigkhing and Ying proved even worse.

The four of them met for dinner one evening. Within ten minutes, Orm had somehow maneuvered herself into sitting beneath the restaurant lighting so the diamond would sparkle more.

Naturally, Ling noticed immediately.

Prigkhing noticed absolutely nothing.

Ying was busy showing everyone dog videos.

At one point, Orm deliberately rested her chin on her hand.

The left hand.

Ring fully visible.

Directly in front of them.

For almost five minutes.

Nothing.

Not a single reaction.

Finally, Ying looked up.

Orm straightened immediately.

"Oh, can you move your hand a little?"

Hope surged through Orm.

"Why?"

"The light keeps reflecting off your ring and hitting me in the eye."

Orm slowly lowered her hand before looking at Ling with visible betrayal written across her face.

Ling actually laughed that time.

—

The rest of their friends performed no better.

Fluke spent days around them without noticing, May somehow went nearly two weeks without questioning why Orm suddenly seemed determined to display her hand in every conversation, and Jane spotted the ring almost immediately only to conclude that Orm had gone shopping.

The most alarming case, however, was Kate. Despite normally noticing details everyone else missed, she remained completely oblivious.

By the end of the experiment, Ling had begun questioning the observational skills of their entire friend group.

Only Papa and Mama Kwong refused to participate, largely because they already knew. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Papa Kwong from nearly giving the secret away twice, nor did it stop Mama Kwong from looking at Orm like she'd personally won the lottery every time they saw each other.

Eventually, even Orm began losing hope.

"This is ridiculous."

The complaint came during dinner one night.

Ling looked up from her food.

"What is?"

"Nobody loves me."

"What?"

"NOBODY IS PAYING ATTENTION."

Ling immediately started laughing. Orm pointed angrily at the ring.

"This is important."

"You've been engaged for twenty-five days."

"Exactly."

Ling laughed harder. Across the table, Orm dramatically raised her left hand and stared at it.

"Maybe I need a bigger diamond."

"Absolutely not."

"Maybe a spotlight."

"No."

"A billboard."

"Orm."

"A parade."

Ling covered her face while Orm let out a dramatic sigh.

"This family never supports my dreams."

Then she immediately went back to eating while very deliberately using her left hand.

—

The group chat exploded some days later.

It started innocently enough with Gina asking whether everyone was free for dinner later that week.

Within seconds, Junji replied. Then Ying. Then Prigkhing. Then Fluke. Then May. Then somehow the conversation spiraled completely out of control.

By the time Ling checked her phone again twenty minutes later, there were already dozens of unread messages waiting for her. Half of them had nothing to do with dinner anymore.

Someone had started arguing about restaurants. Someone else had sent a meme. Ying had somehow redirected the conversation toward dogs. Prigkhing was threatening to choose the restaurant herself if nobody made a decision soon.

In other words, it looked exactly like every group chat they had ever had.

The discussion continued late into the evening and resumed again the following morning as though nobody had jobs.

By the time breakfast ended, Gina had volunteered her own house, everyone had confirmed attendance, and the dinner plans had officially been finalized.

Unfortunately, so had Orm's disappointment.

She sulked through breakfast.

She sulked through work. Professionally, nobody noticed. Privately, however, Ling received a steady stream of complaints throughout the day.

Capybara ❤️: I don't think we should go.
Lingling Kwong: Why?
Capybara ❤️: Because they don't love me.

Ling nearly laughed in the middle of an online meeting.

Lingling Kwong: Baby.
Capybara ❤️: I showed them the ring.
Lingling Kwong: You did.
Capybara ❤️: Multiple times.
Lingling Kwong: I’m aware. I was there.
Capybara ❤️: Gina thought I got botox.

Ling had to mute herself before the European representative asked questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

The complaints continued through the afternoon, through the drive home, and through dinner.

By evening, Orm had somehow circled back to the topic again.

"I don't want to have dinner with people who don't love me."

Ling laughed from where she sat beside her on the sofa.

"They love you."

"They don't."

"They do."

"They don't pay attention to me."

"You are literally the center of everyone's universe."

Orm crossed her arms.

"Then explain the ring."

Ling failed to hide her smile.

"I can't."

"Exactly."

Ling reached over and squeezed her knee.

"We're going, baby. It’s hard to find a time where everyone can meet up."

After several more seconds of theatrical disappointment, Orm finally relented.

"Fine."

Ling relaxed.

Prematurely, as it turned out.

A second later, Orm pointed at her.

"But I'm announcing it."

"Really? No more games?"

"Yes."

"I’m glad you’re choosing the normal route this time."

"It won't be normal."

Ling immediately became concerned.

"What does that mean?"

The smile that appeared on Orm's face instantly set off alarm bells in Ling's head.

"I haven't decided yet."

Ling regretted asking.

—

The day of the dinner arrived faster than they expected. By the time they were driving toward Gina's house, Orm had somehow restarted the entire rant.

"I still can't believe none of them noticed."

Ling laughed from the driver's seat, equal parts exasperated and amused. At this point, she was fairly certain Orm could complain about almost anything and somehow still manage to be endearing.

Unfortunately, being hopelessly in love with her meant that very little truly bothered Ling anymore.

"They noticed plenty of things."

"No."

Ling snorted.

"They noticed your weird posing."

"That wasn't weird posing."

"It absolutely was. I took a picture. Actually, many pictures."

Orm gasped in betrayal.

"Delete them. And it was strategic."

"You looked like a jewelry model."

"Then it should have worked."

Ling laughed harder, the sound filling the car despite her best efforts to contain it.

Orm looked deeply offended.

"You aren't helping."

"I'm trying to defend our friends."

"They don't deserve defending."

Despite her complaints, the affection in Orm's voice made it impossible to take any of it seriously. These were their people, the friends who had been beside them through heartbreak, mistakes, reunions, and everything in between.

She loved every single one of them.

Unfortunately, they were also the people she was currently holding a grudge against.

A few minutes later, they pulled into Gina's driveway.

Still mid-conversation, Orm climbed out of the car and continued complaining all the way up the driveway while Ling followed behind her.

Ling shook her head while laughing as they reached the front door. Having long since been entrusted with Gina's emergency access code, she punched it into the keypad and pushed the door open.

Immediately, she froze.

"SURPRISE!"

The shout exploded from every direction.

Orm screamed.

Ling nearly launched herself backward.

The living room erupted into laughter as dozens of familiar faces doubled over from the reaction.

For a moment, neither Ling nor Orm could do anything except look surprised.

The room was filled with familiar faces.

Their friends.

Their family.

The people who had witnessed every chapter of their story.

Junji, Gina, Prigkhing, Ying, Fluke, May, Kate, Jane, Papa and Mama Kwong, and, standing near the center of it all, Orm's parents.

The sight of them smiling back at her made Orm's breath catch. She hasn’t seen them in months.

The house barely resembled Gina's living room anymore. Gold and white decorations filled the space, balloons crowded every corner, and an entire wall had been dedicated to photographs of Ling and Orm throughout the years.

Then their eyes landed on the banner stretched across the back of the room.

For a moment, both of them forgot how to breathe.

CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR ENGAGEMENT

The room blurred almost instantly.

"Oh my god."

Orm's voice broke as her hand flew to her mouth and tears slowly spilled down her cheeks.

Beside her, Ling felt her own eyes sting as she looked around the room at the people gathered there. Their friends. Their families. The people who had witnessed every chapter of their story, from heartbreak and separation to reunion and love.

And apparently, every single one of them had also been conspiring behind their backs.

Orm was already crying openly by the time Gina pulled her into a hug.

"This isn't fair."

Gina laughed.

"You say that while crying?"

"You all lied to me."

"You deserved it. We knew the second Junji knew."

Orm froze so abruptly that several people immediately started laughing harder.

Then, very slowly, she turned toward Junji and pointed.

"You knew?"

"Of course I did."

"WHAT?"

Junji was laughing so hard she nearly had tears in her eyes. Reaching over, she gave Orm's shoulder a sympathetic pat.

"Sweetheart."

Orm immediately looked offended.

"I knew within the first minute you sat down at lunch."

Orm looked horrified.

"Then I texted everyone to play along."

The entire group immediately looked guilty.

"YOU ALL KNEW?"

Ying raised a hand.

"To be fair, it was really obvious."

Prigkhing nodded.

"Painfully obvious."

Fluke laughed.

"You kept putting your hand in everyone's face."

"It was subtle."

"No."

"It kind of was."

"No, it really wasn’t."

Gina pulled out her phone.

"Junji literally texted us: She's engaged and currently trying to pretend she's not engaged."

The room erupted into laughter.

Orm looked around in complete disbelief before turning to Ling for support.

Unfortunately, Ling was laughing just as hard as everyone else.

"Did you know too?"

Ling shook her head.

“I really didn’t but I shouldn’t have underestimated Junji.”

Orm stared at her for a second before finally groaning and dropping her forehead onto Ling's shoulder.

"They played me."

Ling laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Very successfully."

Honestly, she should have known. Junji and Gina had always been impossible to fool, and once the others found out, there was no world in which they wouldn't turn it into an elaborate scheme to tease Orm.

As laughter filled the room, Ling looked around at the people gathered there and felt emotion settle heavily in her chest.

She had so much gratitude for every person in this room.

For every moment that had led them here.

Because somehow, after everything they’ve been through, they were standing side by side, surrounded by the people who had loved them through it all.

For years, the question had followed them.

Will there be a right time for us?

Looking at Orm standing beside her, tears still shining in her eyes, Ling realized the answer had never been a date, a year, or a perfect set of circumstances.

The right time was simply whenever they finally chose each other.

And now they had.

They were together.

They were loved.

And they were surrounded by home.

END.