The first thing Lingling noticed was a rhythmic beeping. That…wasn’t normal. She couldn’t remember where she was, which caused her a bit of panic, but she steadied herself quickly. She focused on her senses, one at a time, taking stock of her situation before opening her eyes to reveal that she was awake, just in case something was wrong.
First was touch. She was laying down, but not completely flat as she preferred for sleeping. She was dressed, which made her feel a little better, but the fabric was cheap. Scratchy. Something she’d never have bought for herself. Something was attached to her finger, and to the back of her hand. Her first instinct was to grab it, to rip it off, but she still didn’t know where she was or what she was dealing with yet, and she didn’t want to draw attention to herself, and so she stayed still.
As for smells, things smelled clean. Sterile, even. Antiseptic and chemical. Not pleasant. She didn’t like it.
Taste was…horrible. As if she hadn’t brushed her teeth before bed. And her mouth was dry. Maybe she’d drank alcohol? And that was why she couldn’t remember? Her headache would agree, but she wasn’t nauseous like she usually was afterwards. There was a sharp pain in her side, though, that was a bit concerning.
She listened again to the beeping, a little faster now. Shuffling and muffled conversations that were coming through a wall or a door. And-
“P’Ling?”
Her eyes flew open. Sight: too bright. Much too bright. Horrible white-blue fluorescent light that she blinked away as her eyes watered and she winced.
And then-
And then-
The most beautiful woman she’d ever seen in her life leaned into her vision. She had to be an angel, a goddess, something ethereal. Lingling stared at her. She couldn’t look away, even if she wanted to, and she never wanted to.
She was biting her lip, the corners of her mouth curling up into a hesitant smile. Long choppy dirty blonde hair spilled over her shoulders. The woman’s clothes were light pink and not of a style Lingling would ever buy for herself, but they looked good on her. And between that and the way she instantly petted Lingling’s hair, she wasn’t a doctor or a nurse.
“P’Lingling! How are you feeling?”
And then the woman smiled at her and-
And it was-
All Lingling could do was stare in awe at the most brilliant, perfect, room-brightening dimpled smile she’d ever seen in her life. She had to know-
“Who are you?” She croaked out, voice cracking with disuse.
The woman’s hand faltered in her hair just the slightest bit, but perceptible to Lingling, and her smile dropped a fraction before morphing into something teasing and indulging.
“Ahhh jiejie, I should’ve known the anesthesia would hit you just like alcohol,” she teased, brushing at the side of her nose. “How could you forget your teerak?” she said with an exaggerated pout and teasing manner.
…her teerak?
Her teerak?
Lingling’s eyes flew over her once more, clocking the rings on most of her fingers and snagging on one that had been Lingling’s mother’s, now sitting on her left ring finger, and with the way the woman- Orm... the name hit her out of nowhere, how could she had forgotten?- smiled at her and touched her freely-
Oh buddha.
Was…
Was this her wife?
Had she forgotten her wife??
Of course this is her wife. No one else would dare call her by such sweet endearments, much less be this physically intimate with her.
“Orm- N’Orm, baobao” she managed, grasping her hand. Orm looked almost startled but grinned into it.
“Ahh, P’Ling, P’Lingling, I knew you wouldn’t forget me,” Orm giggled.
Lingling managed a nod, unwilling to admit she had forgotten her wife, and winced as the movement made her headache worse.
“P’Ling, jiejie, take it easy, you’re still coming off the anesthesia,” Orm fretted.
Lingling frowned. “Anesthesia?”
Orm booped the tip of Lingling’s nose. Lingling felt her ears going red. “You had to get your appendix out, silly,” Orm smiled sympathetically. “Nearly gave me and mae a heart attack, when you actually admitted you were in pain.”
Lingling didn’t know how Orm would know something like that, how she always held her inconvenient feelings locked away, but somehow she knew that Orm should know. Probably because this was her wife. And now she knew that anesthesia affected her quite like alcohol did: everything was a little fuzzy, her head hurt, and she was forgetful. Odd. She didn’t like it.
Orm helped her back into her regular clothes (some lounge-wear that she would only wear at home and not in public, but she guessed circumstances being what they were, she’d allow it this time), and Lingling managed not to try to cover herself to preserve her modesty, as this was her wife and presumably they’d seen each other quite a bit, even though Orm blushed a little about it. She was so beautiful. Lingling just wished she could remember any of it. She felt awkward and clumsy, like a teenager with a first crush.
Orm helped her with the discharge papers, filling out all sorts of information that Lingling figured she would know, being her wife of course, and then drove her home. Orm kept talking about…lots of things. But it was pretty fuzzy in Lingling’s head. She just liked to listen to Orm talk. She took Orm’s hand as Orm helped her out of the car, and happily walked alongside her up to her house.
Lingling refused to let go, and with an amused little laugh Orm took her keys and opened the door for her instead.
Lingling was home. This was familiar. Good. She smiled lightly as she looked around her home.
Except…no. No, it was bad. Lingling’s tiny smile swapped into a frown.
Her house was-
Where was Orm in it? Everything was so muted and simple and clean without a trace of brightness that Orm so clearly brought to everything.
“Where is your stuff?” Lingling asked as Orm helped her take off her shoes. Lingling thought she would be perfectly fine taking off her own shoes, but she wasn’t going to stop Orm.
“My stuff?” Orm asked, confused. “Uhhh, here?” Orm held up a small shoulder bag slash purse. Lingling frowned again. Was she such a terrible and strict wife that she disallowed Orm from having her own things? Or were they very newly married and Orm hadn’t finished moving in yet? Or…perhaps Orm was actually a minimalist despite her clothing seeming to imply otherwise? Lingling’s frown deepened. She hated not knowing. And she hated that there was a chance that she was becoming like her father. That was entirely unacceptable.
Orm seemed to notice her frowning. “Do you want me to go, jiejie?” she asked.
“Go?” Lingling was confused. Why would she want Orm to go anywhere?
Orm gave her a gentle smile. It looked…a little self-deprecating. Lingling didn’t like that. “Yeah, P’Ling, I know I can be a lot, baobao. I could call P’Junji instead, and-”
Well, whoever that is, Lingling thought. No, that was a horrible idea. Orm shouldn’t leave her own house just because Lingling was high and forgetful. “Stay,” she insisted, her grip tightening. “You’re not too much.” She was horrified that there was a chance she’d ever implied such a thing.
Orm looked a little taken aback. “A-alright. I’ll stay.” She grinned, a bit shyly, again. “Ahh, you don’t want P’Junji to see you like this. I get it,” she scrunched her nose adorably. “Siblings, am I right? I wouldn’t want Att to see me high either. He’d never let me hear the end of it,” she laughed.
Lingling’s brow furrowed again. P'Junji- her half-sister. The realization had only just hit her. The anesthesia had really done a number on her. She must have made a face because Orm started giggling.
Whatever confused expression she made, it just made Orm laugh all the more, which…was great, actually. Lingling loved her laugh. And while she didn’t understand why her wife seemed to enjoy the fact that Lingling is mentally disoriented- which by the way, Lingling still feels like a buffering screen coming to life- if it made Orm laugh then she supposed it was alright.
She followed Orm around their kitchen like a lost and lovesick puppy as Orm threw together a simple and quick stir-fry, just some chicken, veggies, and a little soy sauce, explaining that Lingling preferred savoury dishes, especially when she wasn’t feeling well. What a thoughtful and considerate wife she had. Lingling was so lucky. She should tell Orm, even if she couldn’t quite remember things herself.
“Lucky,” Lingling said aloud.
“What’s that?”
“I am lucky to have N'Orm,” Lingling said definitively.
“Oy! P’Lingling! Jiejie! Warn a girl next time, too much sincerity! And you’re high, so it’s debatable, and-”
“No,” Lingling interrupted, even though it was rude. “I am right. I’m lucky to have N'Orm.”
“Ahh, P’Ling,” Orm patted her shoulder. “If you say so, jiejie.”
Lingling nodded. “I do.”
Orm just gave her an amused but fond expression.
After dinner, Orm helped her figure out which of her new medications she needed to take. They watched an episode of a show that apparently Lingling had already seen, but didn’t have much recollection of, as Orm promised she wouldn’t skip ahead in the episodes when there was a chance Lingling wouldn’t remember it the next day. She was so considerate. Lingling loved her so much. She knew that for certain, even if she didn’t remember her.
“Alright it’s bedtime,” Orm said with a gentle smile, pointing at the simple clock on the wall that now read 10 PM. Lingling’s body clock at least recognized that she was an early sleeper. So did Orm it seems. As expected of her caring wife.
“Mmm,” Lingling agreed. “Bed.”
She stood up from the couch and made it halfway across the room before she realized Orm wasn’t coming along with her. “Teerak?” she called out, her voice laced with confusion.
“P’Ling?” She blushed, the color a soft, adorable pink.
“Why aren’t you coming?” Maybe Orm liked to stay up late? Lingling couldn’t remember. But she was still feeling odd and she wanted her wife with her.
“To…to your bed,” Orm clarified, looking very confused.
“Our bed?” Lingling corrected, equally confused.
“Uhhh,” Orm said, voice coming out odd and high pitched as she looked to the side.
“Do we not have the same bed?” Lingling frowned.
Orm scrunched her nose again. “No, no, I, uh. Don’t sleep here, jiejie...” Still blushing.
Who had Lingling become, banishing this pure sunshine to another room? But…she didn’t have a second bedroom. She remembered that. Did…did she make her wife sleep on the couch? Had they quarreled recently? What had Lingling done?
“N’Orm,” Lingling said, feeling her eyes start to burn, as she crossed back to Orm to take her hand, giving it a sniffing kiss. “I’m sorry for whatever I have done that I cannot remember. Please come to bed,” she said earnestly. She hoped it would be enough.
“P’Ling?” Orm said softly, a bit confounded, her gaze lingering on their clasped hands “Oh! Oh, your ring, here,” Orm said, taking off Lingling’s mother’s ring.
Lingling frowned. What was-
Orm held it out to her. “I’m giving it back? See, look I kept it safe! I didn’t lose it.”
“…why,” Lingling whispered devastatingly, suddenly afraid.
“It’s…I need to give it back, P’Ling,” Orm said tenderly.
What had Lingling possibly done to make this beautiful, perfect, amazing woman hate her so? What had she done to her wife? To not let her live in their house, or sleep in their bed? To make her want to give her ring back?
“N’Orm… baobei,” Lingling’s voice cracked as she tried to swallow her tears. She hated that she couldn’t remember, and she hated whoever she had become, to have allowed herself to slip so far.
“Oh,” Orm looked panicked. “Oh no, baobao, please don’t cry! What-”
“N’Orm doesn’t want it,” Lingling said through the tears that were now escaping down her cheeks. Doesn’t want me, is what she meant.
“I- I mean,” Orm squeezed her fingertips. “It’s a very nice ring, but it was your mother’s, so you should keep it,” Orm’s smile looked troubled. Lingling had ended up just like her father after all, hadn’t she? So much so that Orm apparently had no choice but to wait until Lingling was high to make her escape.
She pledged to herself that she would do better, for Orm. She couldn’t believe P’Junji hadn’t held her accountable. Or maybe she didn’t know. Perhaps she was only being horrible behind closed doors. Was that worse? Lingling didn’t know, but the thought made her shudder.
And now she’d made Orm upset, again. Even if she had already ruined things irreparably, she needed to try. She had to try. For her Orm. Orm deserved nothing but the best, even if that meant she needed better than Lingling.
“N’Orm,” Lingling said again, hands trembling where she gripped Orm’s wrists. And then she dropped them to take her hands. That was a less threatening gesture, right? She shuddered again to think that she could have ever made Orm afraid.
“N’Orm,” she swallowed. Took a breath. Let the words come to her. “I admit my memory is altered because of the anesthesia but I cannot believe what I’ve done. What I’ve become. I can’t abide by this. I promise I’ll do better, if you give me another chance. I can’t lose you,” she cried. “Even if I don’t remember. And if I’ve said something like that before I apologize, I don’t mean to be manipulative, I- Baobei. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for whatever I’ve done. Let me know how I can make it up to you. I’ll try every day. You never have to sleep on the couch. You can leave more of your things around. Please.”
Orm’ s mouth parted, bewildered. “O…kay?” she asked more than said. “Thank you, P’Lingling?” She whispered.
“I’ve been such a horrible wife,” Lingling cried.
“Wife?” Orm frowned. “P’Ling, you aren’t married...” She said slowly.
The words hit Lingling like an arrow straight through her heart. She’d lost Orm already. It was too late. “Not anymore,” Lingling gasped and hiccuped between uncontrollable sobs.
“P’Ling,” Orm said, holding her hands more firmly. “Lingling Kwong! What’s gotten into you?” She has never seen Lingling cry this hard before. She dropped their hands to cup Lingling’s face, gently wiping away her tears with her thumbs. Lingling sniffled pathetically, her eyebrows scrunching in an adorably pitiful way, as she leaned into Orm’s touch like a neglected puppy, her face damp and flushed red.
“You are my wife, and I love you still, and I will atone for my actions when my brain cooperates,” Lingling said as seriously as she could, her words interrupted by wild hiccups.
“I… I’m your wife??” Orm squeaked.
“Yes?” Lingling frowned. Just because they were apparently separated didn’t mean-
Orm blinked rapidly and took in what looked like a steadying breath. “Ok. Ok, P’Lingling. Baobao. Look,” she took the ring back from Lingling’s trembling hand and slipped it back onto her finger where it belonged. “I’ll keep it, ok? And I’ll stay in your bed. I’m not going to try to explain while you’re high, but you have to promise me you won’t get mad in the morning, ok?” she laughed a little, but it was strained.
Lingling nodded vigorously. Suddenly feeling calm. She would take any chance she could get.
Orm helped her get ready for bed, stole some pajamas for herself from the pile Lingling had dumped onto the floor unceremoniously when Lingling had realized she wasn’t even letting Orm keep her clothes in the bedroom, and tucked her in before climbing into the bed behind her.
“Goodnight, P’Ling,” Orm said quietly, a tentative arm settling around Lingling’s waist.
Lingling tried not to cry again. “Goodnight, baobao.”
Lingling blinked awake at exactly 6 AM. She was in her own bed, but she was warm, and everything smelled like Orm. So, in other words, good.
And then she noticed the arm around her waist, clearly belonging to Orm.
And then she remembered the events of the previous day. Apparently being medically high was very similar to being drunk, except that she could recall every mortifying detail. Her wife? What had she been thinking?
…she hadn’t. Hadn’t been thinking. Orm was her best friend. They weren’t even dating. Orm didn't know how Lingling felt about her.
She’d wanted Orm for so long and of course her inebriated self couldn’t keep it together long enough to not ruin things and-
‘but Orm stayed,’ a tiny voice in her head said.
‘Shut up,’ Lingling told the voice.
“Mmm jiejie?” Orm murmured sleepily, nuzzling closer.
“N’Orm,” Lingling answered in a whisper, heart racing, panicking. Orm opened her eyes and then quickly sat up when she saw Lingling was starting to panic.
“P’Ling?” She put a warm hand on Lingling’s shoulder. “Oh, jiejie, don’t cry, don’t- ahhh. What’s wrong? Does it hurt? Do you want your painkillers? I-"
Lingling shook her head. It was her heart that ached, not the stitches in her side. “I- I thought. Yesterday. I had said-” she tried to explain, but it hurt.
Orm paused. “You remember?”
Lingling nodded sadly.
“Ah,” Orm said. “I think I understand what happened, jiejie. It’s my fault, you saw the ring, P’Ling, do you remember you asked me to keep it safe when they were taking you back for surgery? And maybe I shouldn’t have worn it, but it was the best place I knew to keep it where I wouldn’t lose it, ok? My fault for putting it on that finger,” Orm sighed.
It just. It had looked perfect on Orm’s finger. It still did, Lingling realized, as Orm started to fidget with it.
“I want N’Orm to have it,” she mumbled, before her brain caught up with her mouth.
Maybe she was still feeling some of the side effects of the anesthesia, saying things like that out loud.
“What,” Orm said. “P’Ling, what-”
Lingling squeezed her eyes shut. There was no backing out now. Lying was forbidden in her dictionary. “I want,” she said slowly. “N’Orm. To have it.”
“P’Ling- P’Lingling are you proposing!??” Orm squeaked.
“Yes,” Lingling said simply.
“Lingling KWONG,” Orm yelled. “You-! You!! Ahhh, jiejie, look at me?” Lingling managed to open her eyes.
“P'Ling, we aren’t even dating! You know that right?” Orm looked at her seriously. “You- are you still- is the anesthesia- I mean, just because I’ve been in love with you doesn’t mean-”
Lingling’s heart leapt. Orm loved her?
“Doesn’t matter,” Lingling shook her head. “I have always loved N’Orm. I should have said,” Lingling admitted.
“Lingling Kwong,” Orm cried. “Oh my god. Wow,” she sounded like she was nearly hyperventilating. “What the heck. Yes. Yeah. Of course I’ll marry you!”
Lingling smiled. Wider than she ever had in her life. Her cheeks ached with it, her eyes squinting into crescent-shaped slits. But it didn’t matter. Orm loved her. They were engaged.
“Oh my god, mae’s going to kill me,” Orm groaned.
“Yes. I should have asked for Mae Koy’s and Papa Oct’s permission first,” Lingling admitted.
That startled a laugh out of Orm. “Of course you would think that. Wow. P’Lingling. Lingling Kwong. My wife,” Orm grinned. Wife sounded so good. “Ahh you know what’s missing though?” Orm’s grin turned into more of a smirk. “What this really needs, otherwise it won’t work?”
“What is it, baobei?” Lingling asked softly, ready to give her future wife anything.
“Kiss me?”
And Lingling did. Lingling would kiss Orm, her wife , every day.