The Glimpse Of Us

The soft morning light seeped through the curtains of Lingling's wooden house, casting a warm glow across the cozy space. Orm moved quietly, careful not to make too much noise as she finished setting the breakfast table. She had woken up early, determined to take over the morning duties before Lingling even had a chance to refuse.

When Lingling finally emerged from her room, dressed in a simple blouse and loose linen pants, she paused, tilting her head slightly. "You're up early," she remarked, her voice still laced with sleep.

Orm, standing by the kitchen counter, grinned. "Of course! I have to make sure my patient eats a proper breakfast." She gestured toward the table. "Come sit. I made congee."

"Ah, so you're still determined to be a cook?" Lingling let out an amused hum. She stepped forward, but before she could reach for the chair, Orm was already at her side, gently guiding her by the wrist.

"Sit," Orm insisted, pulling the chair out for her.

Lingling chuckled as she took a seat. "You're being overprotective again."

"I'm just doing my job as your temporary caretaker," Orm huffed playfully, placing a spoon in Lingling's hand before sitting across from her.

Lingling ran her fingers along the edge of the bowl, testing the warmth. "You didn't have to do all this, you know."

"I wanted to," Orm replied simply.

For a moment, there was only the soft clinking of spoons against porcelain. Lingling took a careful bite, but a small drop of congee slipped onto her finger. Without thinking, she instinctively licked it off.

Orm, watching her, sighed with exaggerated fondness. "Do you always do that?" She shook her head as she reached for a napkin.

Lingling tilted her head. "Do what?"

"This." Orm took Lingling's hand, gently wiping her fingers clean despite Lingling's soft protest. "You could just use a napkin, you know."

Lingling smiled, unbothered. "It's a habit."

"I've noticed," Orm muttered, but there was no real annoyance in her voice. She finished wiping Lingling's hand before letting it go.

Lingling smirked. "What? Disappointed that I'm not as graceful as you imagined?"

Orm scoffed. "I never imagined you as graceful."

Lingling gasped dramatically. "Excuse me?"

Orm only laughed.

Before Lingling could retaliate, Orm's phone suddenly rang on the table. She glanced at the screen—Mae Koy. Her mother was video calling her.

"Oh, it's my mom," Orm muttered, more to herself than anyone else. Without hesitation, she answered the call and propped the phone against a cup, keeping her hands free.

"Sawasdee ma, Mae!" Orm greeted cheerfully.

Mae Koy's warm voice filled the space. "Orm, my dear. How are you? You haven't answered my texts since yesterday."

"I was busy taking care of someone," Orm replied playfully before turning the camera slightly toward Lingling. "Look, Mae! This is the pretty lady I've been talking about."

Lingling, who had been casually sipping her tea, subtly straightened. A brief flicker of recognition passed through her face, but she quickly masked it with a composed smile. "Sawasdee khun mae kha," she greeted politely.

Mae Koy, however, paused. Her refined expression didn't waver, but there was a slight, almost imperceptible shift in her eyes—like she had seen a ghost from the past.

"...It's been a long time," Mae Koy finally said, her voice carrying a quiet familiarity.

Lingling's smile remained, though a knowing look settled in her eyes. "Yes, it has."

Orm blinked, looking between them. "...Wait. You two know each other?"

Mae Koy's lips curved into a graceful, unreadable smile. "We've met before."

Lingling simply took another sip of her tea, offering nothing more.

Orm frowned slightly, feeling as if she had just walked into something much bigger than she could grasp. But before she could press further, Mae Koy smoothly changed the topic.

"You've been eating well, haven't you? You look healthy."

The moment passed. The subtle tension disappeared beneath Mae Koy's effortless charm, but the unspoken familiarity between her mother and Lingling lingered in Orm's mind like an unfinished melody.

She would have to ask about it later.

***

Orm had never thought much about the resort she initially booked for her stay in Kalasin. It was a quiet, beautiful place—perfect for escaping the chaos of her life. But now, standing before the grand lobby with its intricate wooden carvings, delicate floral arrangements, and sweeping views of the tranquil lake, she saw it in a new light.

This wasn't just a resort.

It was Lingling's resort. The Purple Hydrangeas Resort.

"You're telling me... you own this place?" Orm turned to Lingling, still processing the revelation.

Lingling, dressed in her usual white blouse and soft linen pants, tilted her head. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Well... yes!" Orm huffed, gesturing at the luxurious surroundings. "You let me believe you were just some poor farmer's daughter!"

Lingling chuckled, arms crossed. "I never said that. You assumed."

"I didn't assume anything!"

"You did."

"I did not."

"You did," Lingling repeated, smug.

Orm groaned. "You're doing that thing again where you twist my words."

Lingling only smiled, reaching out her hand, which Orm instinctively took. "Come, I want you to meet someone."

***

Inside, the resort staff greeted Lingling with warmth and admiration. Orm noticed how Lingling carried herself—not as an heiress flaunting her wealth, but as a leader deeply involved in every aspect of her business.

A distinguished man in his fifties approached them. "Khun Lingling, welcome back."

Lingling smiled. "Mr. Prasitdumrong, I hope everything has been running smoothly in my absence."

"As always," he assured her, then turned to Orm. "And you must be Khun Ayla. We were honored to have you as our guest."

"You can just call me Orm."

"Sure, Khun Orm," Mr. Prasitdumrong replied with his professional smile.

As they walked through the resort, Orm overheard staff members whispering about Lingling's contributions to Kalasin's development.

She had assumed she was helping Lingling by staying with her, taking care of her. But now, standing in her world, Orm realized she barely knew her at all.

***

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the bridge, Orm's gaze drifted over the sea of soft purples and blues.

She had seen these flowers before.

Not just here.

Back at Lingling's house, clusters of hydrangeas lined the edges of the porch, their petals swaying gently in the breeze. She hadn't thought much of it then, but now...

"I noticed you've planted a lot of hydrangeas around the resort too," she mused.

Lingling's fingers brushed the railing. "I like the flowers because they bring me a heartfelt feeling."

Orm tilted her head. "I didn't take you for a sentimental person."

Lingling chuckled softly.

Then, Orm heard it—Lingling humming. A quiet tune, absentminded yet hauntingly familiar.

She opened her mouth as if to ask but hesitated. Instead, she murmured, "I've been looking for someone."

Lingling turned slightly. "Oh?"

Orm exhaled. "Someone important."

Lingling didn't press, and Orm didn't elaborate. They simply stood there, side by side, as the last light of day faded into the deep hues of twilight.