Maybe This Time

000

The papers sat on the coffee table between them, an unspoken chasm that had formed over years of misunderstandings, unspoken words, and Lingling's neglect. The air in the room was thick with tension, the weight of finality pressing down on both women as they sat in silence.

Orm picked up the pen with trembling fingers, her heart screaming for her to stop, to say something anything to keep Lingling from walking out of their lives forever. But she swallowed the lump in her throat, steeling herself as she scribbled her name at the bottom of the page, each letter a slash to her heart. She wouldn't let Lingling see her break, not now. Her eyes stayed fixed on the papers, but the hurt pulsed just beneath the surface, like a wound that never healed.

"I guess this is it," Lingling's voice broke the silence, soft but emotionless. She couldn't bring herself to look at Orm, not after everything she'd done. Her suitcase was packed, sitting by the door like the end of a story. Their story. "We won't have to see each other anymore."

Orm flinched inwardly at the words. Won't have to see each other anymore. She thought about all the times she longed for Lingling to come home earlier, to notice her, to choose her over her own selfish impulses. And now, the one person she wanted most would be gone. She clenched her jaw, forcing her voice to remain steady. "That's for the best," she said, but the words tasted bitter on her tongue.

Lingling stood up, her movements mechanical as she grabbed her things. She moved through the house like a ghost, avoiding the corners filled with memories. The framed photos, the trinkets they had bought on trips, even the faint smell of Orm's favorite coffee still lingering in the air it all felt distant now. Lingling's heart ached, but her pride wouldn't let her stop. She had hurt Orm enough, and staying would only make it worse.

As Lingling reached the door, her hand hesitated on the handle for a second, but she didn't look back. "Goodbye, Orm." Her voice cracked ever so slightly, but she forced herself to leave before the emotion could overwhelm her.

The door closed behind her with a finality that echoed through the empty house, leaving Orm sitting alone in the living room that once held their future. As the silence engulfed her, Orm allowed herself to break, tears silently falling as she hugged her knees to her chest, feeling the weight of the loss finally settle in. She had told herself she wouldn't cry, that this was what she wanted too. But as she sat there, in the house they had promised would be their forever, Orm realized that promises meant nothing when love was no longer enough.