Chapter 6 — A Letter to the Snowy Day

Trieu and I simply settled into our life together. The rhythm of our days felt unchanged, save for the fact that he began picking me up from work every evening and speaking far more than he ever had before. Unlike Dieu, Trieu was never one for the nightlife or the chaotic allure of the city; his greatest joy was arriving at my small apartment, cooking a simple meal, and curling up on the sofa with me to watch a film. We were more than just best friends; we were the perfect match in love. Those lingering feelings and the memories I once believed were impossible to forsake finally began to fade into the background, dissolving at times when I was not even looking. I had nearly forgotten Dieu entirely, and only when mutual friends mentioned his name did I feel a fleeting, ghostly pang of the past. I truly believed that the ties between us had been severed for good. I never expected that, after so much time had passed since our breakup, he would still come looking for me.

Who is he, my love? Trieu asked, his eyes darkening with a sudden shadow.

Dieu froze for a moment, then curled his lips into a cold, derisive sneer. Nhien, are you being serious? You have truly fallen for someone else?

I furrowed my brows. We broke up. I made that clear to you already.

Clear? Dieu let out a jagged, mocking laugh. Nhien, how did I never realize you could be this heartless? You acted as if you could never survive a day without me, and yet, here you are, tossing me aside as if I were nothing.

His gaze dropped to my stomach, his voice dropping to a gravelly, pained whisper. That child… did you really go through with the abortion?

I remained silent, an unspoken confirmation.

Very well, Nhien. You are truly cruel. You did not want me, and you did not want our child.

I already told you, I replied calmly. It was your own voice that said if I did not want it, I should get rid of it.

I had never kept this from Trieu. I had told him everything months ago, and he had never judged me; he simply held me for the longest time, telling me how much his heart ached for my suffering.

Dieu’s face turned deathly pale as he recalled the cruel words he had once cast at me so carelessly.

Trieu had already removed his coat and slipped into his house slippers, holding out a paper bag to me. The octopus balls you love most, he said, his voice laced with a gentle, helpless affection. Don’t eat too many, or you will ruin your appetite for dinner. He then turned, his expression shifting as he noticed the intruder. You have a guest, yet you didn't think to tell me?

Dieu’s expression was beyond grotesque. When did you two get together? Was it because of him that you dumped me?

Trieu smiled, unbothered. To be precise, one month ago. That would be two months after you two ended things.

He placed a protective arm around my shoulders. I should actually thank you, Mister Dieu. I have waited for Nhien for many long years; if you hadn't given me this opportunity, I might have lived with regret for the rest of my life.

Dieu’s fists tightened until his knuckles went white, his eyes burning with a murderous intensity as he stared at Trieu. Fearing a confrontation, I stepped between them, softening my tone as I turned to Dieu. You see how it is. I have started a new life. We should—we really should—find peace in this ending.

Find peace? Dieu took a step back, his face twisting into a sneer. Nhien, you were the one who used to cling to me, and now you are the one preaching about a peaceful ending?

I hung my head. We were never meant to be in the same world. Forcing ourselves to stay together only caused us both agony. It is better this way, each of us on our own path. You can continue living your free, wild life, and I have found someone to walk the rest of my days with. But I still did not understand: Dieu had been enjoying his single life so much—why return to me now?

Fine, Dieu spat, grinding his teeth. You think I still want you? But remember this, Nhien, it was I who dumped you. It was I, goddammit, who decided I didn't want you anymore!

With that, he turned sharply and slammed the door behind him with a thunderous crash.

That evening, Trieu was more intense than usual. Though he said nothing, I could feel that Dieu’s appearance had unsettled him. In the darkness of our room, he pressed me again and again to tell him that I loved him. His voice rose, growing hoarse, until finally, he pulled me into an unbreakable embrace. Do not ever leave me, he whispered.

On Christmas Eve, Trieu and I left work early. He bought a pine tree and piled gifts on the floor, rolling up his sleeves to prepare a feast in the kitchen. In the warm glow of the lights, the television played a movie. I couldn't help but laugh, snapping a photo of the domestic scene to share with my friends. Just as I went to help him in the kitchen, my phone rang. It was one of Dieu’s friends.

I hesitated, then answered. Hello?

Nhien, I know you and Dieu are finished and I shouldn't be calling, but he is drunk and he won't stop calling your name. He won't let anyone touch him. Could you… could you come and check on him?

He sent me a video. In it, the chaotic strobe lights of a bar illuminated Dieu sitting alone, surrounded by countless empty bottles. He held a glass in his hand, eyes shut tight, whispering my name. Nhien… my wife.

Despite the crowded room, he sat in total isolation, radiating a profound, hollow loneliness. As if he had been abandoned by the world.

No, I whispered, lowering my eyes. I will not come.

His friend sounded dissatisfied. You two loved each other once; must it really come to this?

I didn't reply and hung up. In the kitchen, Trieu, still wearing his apron, called out to me, Come eat!

Coming, I said, setting the phone aside.

I assumed that with Dieu’s pride, even if he truly regretted the breakup, he would never come looking for me again. But to my surprise, I soon received a call from him.

You left some things at my place. Come and get them.

It had been months. Why bring this up now? I frowned. Don't bother. Just throw them away.

Come get your things, and I promise I will never bother you again. Dieu paused for a beat. Just this once, and then we can clear the slate—a clean break.

Endless drama with him was the last thing I wanted. I hung up immediately. To my shock, he showed up at my door that very night.

Your things. Come and get them. He stood outside, his expression cold and stubborn.

I was baffled. You’re already here. Can’t you just bring them to me?

You come and get them yourself—

Dieu reached out and grabbed my arm. I gripped the doorframe, teeth gritted. What are you doing?!

In the struggle, our arms ached with numbness, but he refused to let go. Only when he saw that I was in pain did he finally release me. Please, he begged, his voice cracking. Can you come back to me?