My lover is my boss (LingOrm)

8 - I'm sorry

"Orm, I feel like you're falling for your boss."

Becky's voice on the other end of the line was sharp, cutting through my thoughts like a knife. I paused mid-pace, blinking at the accusation. The last thing I expected from our conversation was this. Of course, Becky wasn't one to mince words. She always got straight to the point, but this? This was a whole different level.

"What? Why would you say that?" I asked, genuinely baffled. Falling for Ling? No way. That wasn't possible. I shook my head as if trying to physically dismiss the idea.

"You seem jealous of her," Becky repeated, her tone matter-of-fact, as though she was pointing out that the sky was blue or water was wet. No hesitation, no room for debate. She was sure of herself, which made me feel all the more uncomfortable.

Jealous? Of Ling? I scoffed at the thought, trying to defend myself. "I was just angry," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "She was being difficult and—"

"And?" Becky cut me off, her voice dripping with amusement. "You acted like you were jealous. You can't deny that."

I let out an exasperated sigh, my mind flashing back to the way I had felt in the mall. When I saw Ling laughing with that woman, it was like something inside me snapped. The irritation had bubbled up so fast, so intensely, that I hadn't even realized what was happening. But now, Becky's words were forcing me to face the uncomfortable truth—I did act jealous.

"And the date?" I asked, trying to change the subject, or at least redirect it. "Ling invited me on a date, but it wasn't like... that."

Becky wasn't having it. "She invited you on a date because she was into you. Orm, come on. You just brushed her off like she was 'just your boss,' but you and I both know that's a lie."

I opened my mouth to protest but quickly realized there was no use. Becky was right, and I knew it. I had downplayed the whole thing, pretending like it was nothing when, deep down, I knew it wasn't. Ling didn't invite me out as a casual gesture—there had been something more behind it, something I hadn't been ready to acknowledge.

"Fine," I muttered, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "So, what should I do?"

"Apologize, maybe?" Becky suggested, her voice light, but I could tell she wasn't kidding.

"Apologize?" I echoed, a little dumbfounded. "For what? For not knowing how to handle my boss asking me out?"

Becky let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah, for that. But more importantly, apologize for how you reacted. You owe it to her to be honest. You were flustered, sure, but you brushed her off like her feelings didn't matter. Ling's not just your boss—she's someone who clearly cares about you in some way. It's not a crime to admit that."

I fell silent for a moment, mulling over her words. Becky was right, as always. I had been so caught up in my own confusion that I hadn't even considered how Ling must have felt in all of this. I had panicked, and in doing so, I had unintentionally pushed her away.

"Okay," I said finally, my voice quieter now. "But how do I apologize? I can't just—"

Before I could finish my sentence, my doorbell rang, the sound startling me out of my thoughts.

"Turn on the speaker," Becky instructed quickly.

I hesitated for a moment but did as she said, setting my phone down and tapping the speaker button. "Okay, but mute yourself," I added. I wasn't about to let Becky eavesdrop on whatever was about to happen. She muted her side of the line, and I walked over to the door, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest.

I opened the door, and there stood Ling.

She looked different from her usual composed self. Her expression wasn't the calm, cool mask she usually wore. Instead, she looked guilty, almost vulnerable, and it took me a second to process what was happening.

"I'm sorry," Ling said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I screamed at you."

For a moment, I didn't know how to respond. Ling apologizing? That was something I hadn't expected. I blinked, my hand still resting on the doorknob. "You were harsh again," I replied, my voice neutral. I wasn't trying to be cold, but I needed to be honest.

Ling nodded, clearly feeling the weight of her own actions. "And I didn't listen to you," she added, admitting it without hesitation.

There was a pause, a moment where I could tell she was waiting for me to respond. I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "Yeah," I said. "So what are your apologies?"

Ling held up a bottle of wine, her lips quirking into a small, almost sheepish smile. "Wine?" she offered.

I raised an eyebrow, a small chuckle escaping me despite the tension. "The hotel one?"

"Let them make me poor," Ling said with a smirk, her confidence returning slightly. "It'll be my punishment for treating you badly."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. The thought of Ling, the powerful, successful Ling Kwong, joking about being made poor by overpriced hotel wine was absurd. But the fact that she was here, standing at my door, apologizing, and trying to make things right with a bottle of wine—it was almost surreal.

"Let's do this," I said, stepping back to let her in. "I wanted to apologize too, for being aggressive toward you and your date." I paused, giving her a small smile. "So, come in. We can take some wine and apologize properly."

Ling's eyes softened at my words, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something else in her gaze. Something warmer, more open.

"Hm, I like the idea," she said, stepping inside.

I closed the door behind her, my heart still racing as I realized how strange—and yet how right—this moment felt.