The Glimpse Of Us

As Orm stepped further into Lingling's home, her earlier impression shifted. She hadn't expected this.

The house was surprisingly spacious—an elegant blend of traditional Thai and modern minimalist design. Sunlight filtered through wide windows, casting a golden glow over the wooden floors. The air smelled like fresh jasmine, and despite the simplicity of the decor, everything felt warm and lived-in.

What caught her attention the most, however, were the framed photographs hanging on the walls.

Orm walked closer, her eyes tracing the faces in each frame. A family portrait—a couple in their late fifties with gentle smiles, a teenage boy standing beside a younger Lingling, both grinning at the camera. Another photo showed Lingling in a traditional khrui—a sheer white academic gown with gold-trimmed bands—worn over her blouse and black skirt.She stood poised, shaking hands with the university dean at her graduation ceremony. Beside it, a picture of a boy in a similar gown, his youthful face brimming with excitement.

Orm turned to Lingling, curiosity buzzing in her chest. "Are these your parents?"

Lingling, who had been calmly removing her shoes by the entrance, nodded. "Yes. That's my mother and father. And the boy in the photos—" She reached out, her fingers grazing the frame as if recalling the image in her mind. "That's my little brother, Danny."

Orm's eyes lingered on the photo. "And what does he do now?"

Lingling smiled slightly. "He's a farmer."

A farmer.

Orm glanced at the young boy in the graduation photo, trying to imagine how he ended up here in Kalasin, growing rice instead of following a corporate path.

Orm immediately pictured a struggling young man toiling under the sun, hands covered in dirt, barely making ends meet. She felt a pang of sympathy. "Oh... That must be tough."

Lingling turned toward her, an amused expression flickering across her face. "Why do you sound so sad?"

"I just—" Orm hesitated. "It's just... farming can't be easy, right? But I'm sure he's doing his best."

Lingling chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you could say that."

And your parents?" Orm asked, her voice softer.

Lingling's fingers trailed over the wooden edge of the frame. "They moved back to Hong Kong a few years after I settled here."

Orm blinked, processing the thought. "They moved back without you?"

Lingling let out a quiet chuckle. "It sounds harsher than it was. My father was getting older, and my mother wanted to be close to his side of the family again. They asked me to go with them, but..." Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "I had already decided where I belonged."

Orm studied her carefully, trying to read between the lines. "And you don't regret staying?"

Lingling shook her head. "No." She gestured vaguely around her. "This is my home."

Orm glanced around the cozy space—the warmth of the wooden house, the framed memories, the quiet sense of permanence. And for the first time, she truly understood what Lingling meant.

Before Orm could question further, a sudden rustling sound made her freeze.

Then—BOOM.

Something large barreled into her legs. Then another.

She yelped, instinctively jumping behind Lingling. "What the—?!"

Two golden retrievers sat in front of her, tails wagging, tongues hanging out in happy excitement.

"Charsiu, Tofu," Lingling said smoothly, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. "Sit."

The two dogs immediately obeyed, sitting down with perfect discipline.

Orm peeked over Lingling's shoulder. "You—you have dogs?"

"Yes," Lingling said with a chuckle. "Did you think I lived here all alone?"

Orm clutched her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. "I thought I was being attacked."

Lingling raised an eyebrow. "By golden retrievers?"

Orm huffed, but before she could respond, the tiny, fluffy Pomeranian in her arms wiggled in protest. She had been so startled that she almost forgot about Uni.

Lingling tilted her head slightly, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "And here I thought your 'baby' was left in the taxi."

Orm straightened up, holding Uni like a prized possession. "Of course not! I'd never abandon my child."

Lingling reached out, running her fingers gently over Uni's soft fur. The tiny dog gave a small huff, clearly unused to being touched by anyone other than Orm.

"Feels spoiled," Lingling commented, lips curving slightly.

Orm gasped. "She's not spoiled. She's just... loved."

"Mm," Lingling hummed, clearly unconvinced. "Well, let's hope she gets along with Charsiu and Tofu."

Before Orm could say anything, Charsiu and Tofu leaned forward to sniff Uni. The Pomeranian's fur bristled instantly, and she let out a dramatic squeak of protest before scrambling to perch on Orm's shoulder.

Orm sighed. "Great. Now she thinks she's superior."

Lingling simply smiled.

***

The next morning, Orm woke up determined.

She was here to take care of Lingling, and that meant helping around the house.

The only problem? She had never done chores before.

Still, that didn't stop her from trying.

From the moment Lingling got injured, Orm insisted on helping with everything. Whether it was fetching water, tidying up, or making tea, she was determined to prove herself useful. But Lingling, being used to her independence, refused most of it.

"I can walk on my own," Lingling said when Orm tried to guide her to the kitchen.

"But what if you trip?"

"I won't."

"I'll hold your hand just in case."

Lingling sighed but let Orm take her hand.

Feeling accomplished, Orm led her forward with a satisfied grin. Taking care of Lingling wasn't so hard! Maybe she really could do this—

"Here," Orm said, setting down an ice pack beside Lingling once they reached the kitchen. "You should keep this on your ankle for a while."

Lingling reached for it, but Orm was faster. "I'll do it."

"I can do it myself."

"But I—"

Lingling tilted her head slightly. "You're really not going to let me do something as simple as this?"

Orm hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to help and respecting Lingling's independence. Finally, with a reluctant huff, she handed over the ice pack. "Fine. But if you need anything, just say it."

Lingling chuckled softly. "Noted."

***

Then disaster struck in the kitchen.

Orm stared at the eggs in the pan, watching them turn from a promising golden yellow to an unfortunate shade of brown. Smoke curled into the air.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no—"

Behind her, Uni sat on the counter, watching her with judgmental eyes. Meanwhile, Charsiu and Tofu waited patiently near Lingling, as if they knew better than to expect anything good from Orm's cooking.

Lingling, sitting at the dining table, finally spoke. "Something's burning."

"I got this!" Orm yelped, frantically flipping the egg onto a plate.

She turned, grinning proudly. "Here! I made you breakfast."

Lingling reached out, fingers brushing over the edges of the plate. "It smells..." She trailed off, struggling to find a polite word.

Orm cleared her throat. "Just try it."

Lingling took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed.

Orm held her breath.

Then Lingling set down her fork and said flatly, "You put cheese in this."

Orm blinked. "Yeah...?"

Lingling sighed. "I don't like cheese."

Orm's jaw dropped. "What? Cheese is amazing!"

Lingling tilted her head slightly. "And yet, I'm the one suffering through this meal."

Orm crossed her arms. "You could've said that before I cooked!"

"I assumed you wouldn't sabotage my breakfast."

Orm groaned, but then she noticed Lingling taking another bite—begrudgingly, but still eating. The warmth in her chest returned. Even if Lingling complained, she was still finishing the plate. That was enough.

As they ate, the trio of dogs hovered around them—Charsiu resting his head on Lingling's lap, Tofu lying lazily under the table, and Uni sitting obediently by Orm's feet, waiting for scraps.

"You know, I think Uni is adjusting well to being here," Orm said, scratching under the Pomeranian's chin. "She's already getting along with Charsiu and Tofu."

Lingling smiled. "Animals can sense kindness. That's why they like you."

Orm beamed. "Really?"

"No," Lingling said flatly. "They just want food."

Orm gasped. "P' Ling!"

Lingling chuckled, reaching down to stroke Charsiu's soft fur. "But you are trying your best, aren't you?"

Orm straightened up proudly. "Of course! I said I'd take care of you, didn't I?"

The laundry attempt was just as tragic.

Orm finally managed to hang all the clothes neatly on the drying rack outside. White sheets, shirts, and towels hung neatly on the clothesline, swaying gently in the breeze.

She exhaled, feeling accomplished. "Not bad, huh?"She stepped back, hands on her hips, feeling accomplished.

Then she turned—only to see Charsiu and Tofu gleefully rolling on the damp fabric that had fallen to the ground.

"NOOOO!!"

Lingling, sipping her tea from the porch, calmly remarked, "They just wanted to help."

Orm dropped to her knees, defeated.

By the evening of the second day, Lingling, who had initially resisted Orm's presence, found herself growing used to the younger woman's clumsy attempts to take care of her. She no longer pushed Orm away when she insisted on helping. She no longer sighed at Orm's endless chatter.

And Orm? She found herself watching Lingling more. Not just to take care of her, but because she genuinely enjoyed being with her. She noticed the little things—like the way Lingling always trailed her fingers along the table before sitting down or how she tilted her head slightly when listening. It was little things like this that made Orm pause, made her want to keep looking.

***

That night, the house had settled into a comfortable atmosphere. Orm stood in the kitchen again, determined to make something good. This time, she made an omelet—soft, fluffy, and golden, still with a bit of cheese on the side.

She carefully plated it and set it in front of Lingling.

"I know you don't like cheese, but just try it."

Lingling took a bite and paused. "This is..."

Orm held her breath.

"...so good."

Orm gasped. "Really?!"

"Mmm." Lingling nodded. "Like something from a five-star hotel."

Orm practically melted with joy. "Ahhh! I knew it!" She laughed, feeling lighter than she had in days.

Lingling smiled, resting her chin on her hand. "You're proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"Damn right, I am!" Orm burst out laughing, absolutely delighted. She had never felt so accomplished in her life.

Lingling chuckled softly.

And for the first time, she realized—Orm wasn't just here because she felt responsible. She truly, sincerely wanted to take care of her.

Maybe... her presence wasn't so bad after all.

***

On the third morning, Orm smelled something delicious and followed the scent to the dining table. An elderly woman was setting down a steaming bowl of congee.

"Oh, good morning," Orm greeted. "Are you Lingling's neighbor?"

Mae Chu's lips twitched. "Something like that."

Outside, an elderly man was tending to the hydrangeas, carefully trimming away wilted petals.

Orm's heart swelled with admiration. "Wow, Lingling has such kind neighbors helping her."

Mae Chu and Mr. Wae exchanged amused glances but didn't correct her.

Lingling finally walked into the room and sighed. "Orm, they're not my neighbors."

Orm blinked. "They're not?"

"They're my housekeepers."

"...Oh."

A long silence.

Mae Chu patted Orm's shoulder. "You're adorable."

Just as Orm was recovering from her mild embarrassment, a loud rumbling sound came from outside. She turned toward the porch, confused—only to freeze at the sight before her.

A man was standing in front of Lingling's house, leaning casually against a... tractor.

He had the same sharp jawline as Lingling, the same strong brows, and an easy confidence in his stance.

Danny Kwong.

Orm's eyes widened as she took in the scene. The sun, the dust, the towering tractor behind him...

His faded T-shirt clung to his frame, streaked with traces of sweat and dirt. His jeans were worn, the fabric frayed at the edges, and his boots—Orm nearly gasped—were caked with dried mud. Grease stained his fingertips, evidence of freshly completed work, and there was even a smudge of engine oil on his forearm.

This was it. The confirmation.

Lingling's brother wasn't just a farmer. He was a poor farmer.

Orm's heart clenched with sympathy.

...How much suffering had this family endured?!

She turned to Lingling, eyes full of unspoken emotion, and let out a quiet, pitiful sigh.

Lingling frowned. "Why do you sound like you're about to cry?"

Orm sniffled. "Nothing..."

Danny, meanwhile, just smirked. "You must be Ayla."

Orm nodded solemnly. "You can just call me Orm. And you must be Danny."

The man grinned. "Welcome to the farm, superstar."

Orm inhaled deeply, steeling herself.

She had no idea how poor Danny actually was, but one thing was clear—she would treat him with all the kindness he deserved.

Even if he didn't know why.