The Glimpse Of Us

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the wooden walls. Orm sat at the dining table, staring at the untouched cup of coffee in front of her. The scent of freshly brewed beans mixed with the crisp morning air—a scent she had grown to love in the past weeks.

It should have felt comforting.

But something felt different.

Her phone buzzed against the table.

Suzie.

Orm hesitated before picking up.

"Morning, love! You're finally awake?" Suzie's warm voice carried through the line, as cheerful as ever. "I was starting to think you'd gone off the grid for good."

Orm huffed, rubbing her temple. "P'Suzie, please—"

"Alright, alright," Suzie laughed. Then, her tone softened, turning just a bit more serious. "Sweetie, we need to talk."

Orm's stomach clenched.

She already knew what this was about.

Suzie sighed dramatically. "You've officially broken the internet. Again."

Orm frowned. "What?"

"That piano duet video, darling! The one with you and that enchanting mystery woman? It's everywhere. Millions of views. Hashtags trending. People are obsessed, trying to figure out who she is."

Orm's heart skipped a beat.

The video. The moment that had felt so intimate, so personal—now it belonged to the world.

Suzie continued, "I've been holding them off, but the media wants a statement. And, love... we need to discuss your return. You can't stay hidden in Kalasin forever."

Orm swallowed hard.

She had known this moment would come. She just hadn't been ready for it.

And now? She didn't want to go.

Her grip tightened around the phone. "Can we talk about this later?"

Suzie's voice softened. "Of course, darling. But not too much later, okay?"

Orm ended the call and let out a slow breath, trying to calm the unease building in her chest.

She didn't notice Lingling standing nearby until she spoke.

"Baobao?"

Orm flinched slightly, turning to see Lingling approaching. She looked as serene as always, but Orm couldn't help but wonder—how much had she heard?

Lingling sat down across from her. "What's wrong?"

Orm hesitated. She should tell her. She should explain. But instead, she forced a small smile. "Nothing, just work stuff."

Lingling didn't press.

But something in Orm's chest tightened.

Because for the first time since coming here, she was keeping something from Lingling.

The morning passed in a haze. Orm tried to push the phone call from her mind, but the weight of it lingered. The world was waiting for Ayla. But Ayla wasn't ready to return.

Still, she clung to the quiet of Lingling's home, pretending for just a little longer that she was just Orm—just a woman sitting across from Lingling, sharing breakfast in a home that was beginning to feel like hers.

But reality had other plans.

***

By late morning, Lingling had decided to check in with the resort staff, and Orm had gone with her. They walked together through the familiar path, the warmth of the sun filtering through the trees. Orm told herself it was just another day. Just another quiet moment in Kalasin.

Then—she noticed it.

It started small. Whispers. Curious glances. Guests in the lobby staring at their phones, then turning to look at her.

Then—she heard it.

"I swear that's her! It's Ayla!"

Orm froze.

At first, it was just a few people. Then more. And soon, the murmurs turned into something bigger.

By midday, she overheard two staff members near the garden, speaking in hushed tones.

"This Ayla situation is getting out of hand."

"She's an international celebrity. Of course people will come looking."

"But the guests are complaining. The resort is supposed to be a quiet retreat, not a place for paparazzi and screaming fans."

Orm's stomach sank.

Before she could react, a voice cleared its throat behind her.

Mr. Prasitdumrong.

Tall, composed, the very definition of professionalism—even now, as a storm brewed outside the resort gates.

"Khun Orm." His voice was polite, but firm. "May I have a word?"

Orm exhaled, nodding.

They stepped aside into the shade of the main pavilion. From there, she could see the distant figures of fans gathering outside the entrance, some holding signs, some trying to get a glimpse of her through the resort grounds.

"I hope you understand our situation," Mr. Prasitdumrong said, clasping his hands in front of him. "We value the privacy of our guests. Your presence here—while we are honored—has drawn... attention."

Orm nodded slowly. "I never meant for this to happen."

"We know that." His tone softened, just slightly. "However, it is becoming difficult for our staff to manage. We would appreciate your cooperation in keeping things... contained."

Orm bit the inside of her cheek.

She didn't want to cause trouble. She didn't want to be a disruption in Lingling's world.

But before she could say anything, a dramatic voice cut through the tension.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my!"

Orm turned—just in time to see Suzie arriving in all her extravagant glory.

Bright floral dress, oversized sunglasses, a hot pink sun hat that did nothing to make her blend in.

Mr. Prasitdumrong stiffened as Suzie swaggered toward them, flipping her hair with practiced elegance.

Then—her eyes landed on him.

And she gasped.

"Well, well, well. Who is this dashing gentleman?"

Orm nearly choked.

Clearing his throat, Orm gestured between them. "P'Suzie, this is Khun Prasitdumrong, the resort's general manager."

Suzie's lips curled into a slow, delighted smile. "Khun Prasitdumrong." She tested the name like she was savoring fine wine. "I do love a man with authority."

Mr. Prasitdumrong gave a polite nod, his posture impeccably formal. "A pleasure to meet you, Khun Suzie."

Suzie placed a delicate hand on her chest, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sweetheart, you look like you stepped right out of a business magazine. Are you single?"

Mr. Prasitdumrong blinked. Twice.

Orm swore she saw a flicker of panic in his usually unreadable expression.

"I... That is not relevant to the discussion at hand." He cleared his throat, adjusting his tie as if it had suddenly tightened around his neck.

Suzie giggled, twirling a lock of her hair. "Oh, darling, don't be shy. We're all friends here."

Orm bit her lip to keep from laughing.

Mr. Prasitdumrong exhaled sharply, visibly struggling to maintain professionalism. "Khun Suzie, I assume you are here regarding Khun Orm's return to Bangkok?"

Suzie waved a hand dramatically. "Yes, yes, we'll discuss that. But first—do you have a business card? Just in case I need, you know... managerial advice." She winked.

Orm lost it.

She had to turn away, pretending to cough to hide her laughter.

Mr. Prasitdumrong looked at her, then at Suzie, then at the heavens—as if questioning why he had to endure this.

Finally, he sighed, returning to full business mode. "Khun Orm, please consider our request."

Orm nodded quickly, still struggling to keep a straight face. "I will. I promise."

"Thank you." He gave a slight bow, then turned—walking away with the stiffest posture imaginable.

Suzie watched him go, sighing dramatically. "What a man. So proper. So serious. I live for it."

Orm shook her head. "P'Suzie, you nearly killed him."

Suzie grinned. "Oh, sweetie, I was just having fun. Now, let's talk about you."

Her tone shifted, playful teasing replaced by genuine concern.

"Orm. It's time to decide. Are you coming back to Bangkok or not?"

***

Orm exhaled, running a hand through her hair as she leaned against the wooden railing of the pavilion. The view of the lake stretched before her, calm and still, completely unaware of the storm inside her.

Suzie stood beside her, arms crossed, watching her carefully.

"Well?" Suzie nudged. "What are you going to do, love?"

Orm didn't answer immediately.

She knew what Suzie wanted to hear. She knew what her career demanded. She knew what was expected of Ayla.

But for the first time in her life, she didn't want to be Ayla.

She wanted to be Orm—the woman who found music again beside a lake, the woman who sang duets with Lingling under the trees, the woman who had whispered, I'm not going anywhere.

But staying... was that even an option?

Orm took a slow breath. "I don't know."

Suzie sighed. "Sweetie, you can't hide here forever."

Orm flinched.

Suzie softened. "Look, I get it. You needed this break. But your career—your entire life—is waiting for you in Bangkok. And..." she hesitated, then added gently, "I need you to be honest with yourself. Is this about your career? Or is this about her?"

Orm swallowed hard.

She didn't get the chance to answer.

Because before she could even process her thoughts—a soft rustle sounded behind them.

They turned.

And there, standing just a few steps away, was Lingling.

Orm's heart stopped.

Lingling's expression was unreadable. Her posture calm. But there was something in the way she stood—something distant, something careful.

Orm didn't know how much she had heard.

But she knew it was enough.

"Ling..." Orm took a step forward. "It's not what you think—"

"I wasn't thinking anything." Lingling's voice was quiet. Steady.

And that scared Orm more than anything.

Because there was no warmth in it.

Lingling turned her face slightly, as if listening to the wind, as if already pulling away.

"You should go back," she said simply.

Orm's chest tightened. "What?"

"You should go back to Bangkok." Lingling's fingers brushed the hem of her dress. "Your world is there."

Orm's breath hitched. "But I—"

"You don't belong here, Baobao."

The words sliced through her like a blade.

Orm felt her hands tremble at her sides. "Why are you saying this?"

Lingling tilted her head, the faintest smile—empty, unreadable—crossing her lips. "Because it's the truth."

"No, it's not." Orm's voice cracked. "Last night, you—"

"Last night was a mistake."

Silence.

A sharp, unbearable silence that rang louder than any scream.

Orm stared at her, feeling the ground shift beneath her feet. "You don't mean that."

Lingling smiled again, but this time it was colder.

"I do."

Orm's entire body went rigid.

Suzie, sensing the tension, took a small step back, as if giving them space.

Orm swallowed, forcing her voice to stay steady. "So... that's it?"

Lingling exhaled softly, as if she were already letting go. "You have a life to live, Baobao."

"What if I want to live it here?" Orm whispered.

Lingling hesitated. For a fraction of a second, Orm thought she saw something crack.

But then—Lingling took a step back.

And just like that, the space between them became unbearable.

"Go back, N'Orm." Lingling's voice was so soft. So final.

Orm clenched her fists. "If you don't want me here, say it."

Lingling stood still.

Orm's heart pounded. "Say it."

Lingling's lips parted—and she broke Orm's heart.

"I don't want you here."

Silence.

Cold, sharp, suffocating silence.

Orm exhaled shakily, her entire world crumbling.

She didn't believe her.

She refused to believe her.

But what choice did she have?

The woman she loved had just pushed her away.

And for the first time since arriving in Kalasin—Orm had nowhere left to go.

***

Orm didn't remember how she got back to Lingling's house.

She didn't remember packing her things.

All she knew was that everything felt empty.

Lingling hadn't followed her. She hadn't stopped her. She had just... let her go.

Orm sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her half-zipped suitcase.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

They had made a promise.

"Then... stay with me."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Her throat tightened as she swallowed back the ache rising in her chest.

She had believed Lingling when she said that.

And now?

Now, it felt like none of it had ever been real.

A soft knock on the door.

Orm barely turned as Mae Chu stepped inside, her expression careful, unreadable.

"So, you're leaving?"

Orm forced a nod. "Yeah."

Mae Chu sighed, crossing her arms. "I won't ask why. That's between you two."

Orm's fingers curled into the blanket. "It doesn't matter."

Mae Chu watched her for a long moment before speaking again.

"You know," she said quietly, "that woman has lived alone for years. Built her life here, piece by piece. But ever since you came along, she..." Mae Chu hesitated. "She smiled more."

Orm's chest clenched.

Mae Chu tilted her head slightly, eyes sharp despite their warmth. "Are you sure this is what you both want?"

Orm hesitated. Just for a second.

Then she inhaled sharply, shaking her head. "No."

Her voice broke. "But it's what she wants."

Mae Chu's lips pressed into a thin line.

She didn't argue.

Didn't tell her to stay.

Didn't give her false hope.

She just sighed."I'll drive you to the airport with Mr. Wae tomorrow. Your manager will be there waiting for you."

And just like that—it was decided.

Orm nodded stiffly. "Thank you."

Mae Chu gave her one last look before stepping out, leaving Orm alone in the quiet, heavy stillness of the room.

Orm exhaled shakily, pressing a hand against her chest.

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

And the worst part?

Lingling wasn't here to stop her.

***

The house was dark when Orm stepped out onto the porch, her breath unsteady in the cool night air.

She didn't know why she was here.

Maybe she just wanted to see her one last time.

Lingling was sitting on the porch steps, her back to Orm, her hands resting lightly in her lap. The soft glow of the night lamp cast a halo around her dark hair, but she didn't turn, didn't react.

She knew Orm was there.

And still, she said nothing.

Orm's throat tightened.

She should leave.

She should just walk away.

But instead—she spoke.

"This wasn't supposed to end like this."

Lingling didn't move.

Orm's fists clenched at her sides. "Say something."

Silence.

Then—finally—Lingling exhaled, her voice barely above a whisper.

"...Good night, Baobao."

Orm's heart broke.

Not stay.

Not I'm sorry.

Just good night.

Like they would see each other tomorrow.

Like Orm wasn't leaving forever.

Like this wasn't goodbye.

Orm took a shaky step forward.

If she reached out—would Lingling stop her?

If she stayed—would Lingling fight for her?

But Lingling remained still.

And Orm understood.

Lingling had already let go.

Orm swallowed down the sob rising in her throat. "Good night, Jie Jie."

Then—she turned and walked away.

And this time, Lingling didn't stop her.

***

The sky was still dark when Mr. Wae's car pulled up in front of Lingling's house.

Orm stood by the doorway, suitcase in hand. She had barely slept. Not that it mattered. Sleep wouldn't have changed anything.

Mae Chu placed a gentle hand on her back. "We should go."

Orm nodded stiffly, her throat tight. She turned, gaze lingering on the wooden walls, the scent of brewed coffee still faint in the air—one last time.

Then—her eyes landed on Lingling.

She was standing at the threshold, not blocking the way, not stopping her. Just standing.

Her face was unreadable. Poised. Serene.

Orm wanted to say something—anything—but the words lodged in her throat.

Lingling didn't speak either.

Not stay.

Not take care.

Not even goodbye.

Just silence.

Orm inhaled sharply, then stepped forward. Past the doorway. Past Lingling. Past the home that had given her more warmth than she had ever known.

She felt it then—how cold the morning air was against her skin.

Mr. Wae opened the car door. Orm slid inside, gripping Uni close as the little Pomeranian curled into her lap.

The engine rumbled to life.

Orm didn't look back at first. She couldn't.

But just as the car pulled away, just as they left the last stretch of road before the main road—she caught a glimpse of it.

The wooden house.

Lingling's home.

Her home.

And Lingling—still standing there.

Not waving. Not moving. Just standing.

Orm's breath hitched.

She pressed her palm against the cool glass of the window, as if she could somehow reach out, as if she could hold onto something that was already slipping away.

Her vision blurred as the car kept moving, taking her farther and farther away from the only place she had ever wanted to stay.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the image to fade.

But it didn't.

Lingling's silhouette stayed with her. Burned into her mind. Etched into her heart.

She never ran after her.

She never stopped her.

She never said goodbye.

And Orm understood.

Lingling had already let go.

But Orm?

She didn't know if she ever could.

***

The car disappeared down the road.

The sound of the engine faded into nothing.

And just like that—Orm was gone.

Lingling stood in the doorway, fingers curled slightly at her sides.

She had stayed there all morning. Waiting.

Not hoping.

Not stopping her.

Just... waiting.

Her lips trembled, but she forced them into a faint smile—the same quiet, unreadable smile she had given Orm last night.

The wind brushed against her skin, cool and light. She tilted her face slightly, feeling it, pretending it was something else.

Pretending it was Orm's touch.

The porch felt unbearably empty.

She took a slow step forward—then another.

Her foot barely grazed the edge of the wooden step before she stopped.

There was nowhere to go.

There was nothing to reach for.

The silence settled in—deep, suffocating, inescapable.

Her fingers twitched.

She clenched them into fists.

She had done the right thing.

She had given Orm the life she deserved.

So why—

Why did it feel like she had just lost the only thing that ever made her feel alive?

Her breath hitched.

And then—her knees gave out.

She crumpled onto the wooden floor of the porch, hands pressing into the cold planks, her chest rising and falling in sharp, broken gasps.

No one was here to see her.

No one was here to hear her.

So for the first time—she let herself cry.

Silently.

As if her heart had shattered without a sound.