The Unwritten Chapter - LingOrm

UNFULFILLED EXPECTATIONS

The warm glow of the setting sun cast long shadows across the grand dining table of the mansion. Lingling, surrounded by her family, savored the familiar comfort of their shared dinner. It had been two days since she and her business partner had arrived in Bangkok, and the city's energy still buzzed beneath the surface, but here, in this space, there was only the quiet murmur of conversation and the gentle clinking of silverware.

A gentle smile played on Mrs. Kwong's lips as she turned to her middle child, Lingling, across the dinner table. "How was the conference meeting in Japan, dear?" she inquired, her voice laced with genuine concern. "And how is the company doing?"

Lingling, her eyes meeting her mother's, responded with a polite, "It was successful, Mother. We already made a deal."

The news was met with warm smiles from both Mrs. and Mr. Kwong. Their faces radiated pride, a testament to the hard work and dedication their daughter had poured into her career.

Mr. Kwong, his fork poised mid-air, lowered it with a sigh and wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. He turned his gaze towards his younger daughter, Freen, who sat quietly at the table. "How about you, Freen? When will you take over the business in Portugal?" he asked, a hint of expectation in his voice.

Freen, her gaze meeting her father's, shook her head gently. "I don't want to handle any business, Father. I'm content with my career in architecture." Her voice was calm, unwavering, and her father, though slightly disappointed, couldn't help but chuckle at her resolute tone.

Mrs. Kwong, ever the supportive mother, smiled warmly. "That's good, Freen. Keep doing what you love, alright?" she said, her voice filled with affection. Freen returned a small smile and went back to her food.

Mr. Kwong, however, let out a heavy sigh. "Freen and Faye," he muttered, shaking his head, "neither of them wants to handle any of the businesses. Only Lingling. And where is your very good sister, anyway?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, a clear indication of his frustration. Both Lingling and Freen shrugged their shoulders in response, unable to offer an explanation for their sister's absence.

Just then, Faye entered the mansion, her presence instantly drawing the attention of everyone at the table. She moved towards her parents, kissing them both on the cheek before lightly tapping her sisters on the back. Lingling and Freen nodded in acknowledgment, their eyes meeting Faye's briefly. Faye then took a seat across from her father, her arrival bringing a sense of completion to the family gathering.

"I didn't know you had already arrived from vacation, Mom and Dad," Faye said, a smile playing on her lips.

Mr. Kwong, his gaze sharp, shot back, "How would you know when you barely come home?"

A heavy silence descended upon the table. Mr. Kwong, his voice laced with frustration, continued, "When are you going to grow up and take responsibility for your life? And what are you always up to?" His tone bordered on scolding.

Faye remained silent, letting her father's words wash over her.

"I'm serious, faye. If you don't change your ways, I'm cutting you off financially. Then let's see how eager you are to join the family business when you're broke."

Mrs. Kwong, concerned, reached out and gently took her husband's hand. "Don't pressure them, honey. Give them time."

"How long are we supposed to wait? They're not getting any younger, and Freen and Faye still aren't interested in the family business." Mr. Kwong's voice rose, tinged with anger.

"Faye, when are you going to stop with this reckless behavior? All you do is bring random women to our penthouse" Mr. Kwong's focus narrowed on Faye, his disappointment evident. He yearned for his daughters to take over the family businesses.

Faye finally met her father's gaze, her voice low and resolute. "Dad, I'll manage when I'm ready."

"You're going to wait until you're 40, 50, 60 to get your act together? Or are you going to wait until you're too old to do anything?" The father's words were sharp, cutting through the air. Faye, it seemed, was the black sheep of the family.

"Lingling is the only one who's a good daughter," Mr. Kwong declared, his voice heavy with disapproval, "and the only one who always follows me." With that, he stood abruptly, leaving the dining room without another word.

Faye looked down at her plate, her face pale. Mrs. Kwong, ever the comforting presence, moved to her side, offering silent support.

Freen, her eyes fixed on Lingling, let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Good, huh? Sleeping with her best friend's cousin?" she mumbled, her voice low enough for Lingling to hear. Lingling, her face contorting with anger, shot up from her chair. "What did you say?!" she demanded.

Freen, her eyes meeting Lingling's, stood up as well. "Nothing. I lost my appetite." With that, she turned and walked away, disappearing into her room.

Lingling watched Freen leave, her jaw clenched in anger.

The cool night air, tinged with the scent of honeysuckle, caressed Lingling's skin as she stood on the mansion's terrace, a glass of Saint-Émilion wine resting in her hand. Her gaze drifted upwards, lost in the vast expanse of the star-studded sky, a quiet peace settling over her.

"Having a good time while someone else is hurting, are you?" Freen appeared beside her, face expressionless.

Lingling, startled, glanced at the voice beside her and furrowed her brows. "What are you talking about?" she asked, taking a sip of her wine.

Freen chuckled, a sound that held a hint of disbelief. It was clear she didn't believe her sister's act of cluelessness. "Orm," she replied curtly.

"What do you know about it?" Lingling pressed, walking towards a nearby table and setting down her glass.

Freen remained standing, her eyes fixed on something far beyond the terrace. "When did you start being a bitch?" she asked, her voice laced with a subtle bitterness.

Lingling's irritation flared. "Can you just fucking be straight to the point?" she snapped.

Freen's voice remained calm, but her words were sharp. "Why are you fucking Orm?"