Chapter 1 — A Lifetime of Missed Affection

Married for five years, this was the first time my husband had ever taken the initiative to go to the mall with me and our one-year-old son. Yet, sitting in the passenger seat was my best friend, Man Yao, and in the baby safety seat sat her daughter. Ha Nghien Chi said only one thing: "Yao Yao wanted to go shopping too, so it was on the way."

Not wanting to ruin the rare opportunity for our family of three to spend time together, I hugged our son and climbed into the back seat. When we arrived at the mall, he carried Man Yao's daughter in his arms and wore her bag over his shoulder. I followed behind, carrying my son in a baby carrier, hauling a large bag of maternity and baby supplies, and clutching a pack of diapers. I looked utterly bedraggled. A couple walked past us, caught sight of them, and whispered, "Look at that man—what a devoted husband. He's carrying the child, wearing the bag, and they even hired a nanny to look after the other one."

I wanted to explain, but watching them walk ahead, they truly looked more like a family of three than we did. The words died on my lips, leaving me unsure of how to speak. Little Star began to cry from hunger, so while they stopped at a clothing store, I hurried to the nursing room with my son. By the time I finished feeding him and came back out, they were gone. Half an hour later, Ha Nghien Chi finally called me. "Yao Yao's daughter is sleepy, so I'm taking her home first. You find your own way back."

The line went dead. I stared at my phone screen, standing still for a moment, suddenly feeling bone-deep exhaustion. This marriage, in which I was forever pushed to the sidelines, had become too much to bear. This time, I chose to go alone.

I stood at the mall entrance with Little Star. The boy had cried himself to sleep, his face pressed into the crook of my neck, still letting out the occasional hiccup. My phone screen lit up; Ha Nghien Chi had sent one sentence: "Let me know when you get home."

The driver helped me put the stroller in the trunk and couldn't help but ask, "The baby's father isn't coming with you?"

I bowed my head to wipe the tears from Little Star's face. "He's busy." I said those two words too fluently. It was so natural it made me want to laugh at myself. When I reached home, the sticky note I had written the night before was still on the fridge: "Tomorrow is a family trip to the mall, remember to take a group photo." I tore it down, balled it up, and threw it into the trash. The lock clicked—Ha Nghien Chi was home. He saw the living room in darkness and frowned. "Where's the kid?"

"He's asleep."

His movements as he took off his shoes paused for a second. "I didn't plan things well today. Little Moon wouldn't stop crying in the car, and Man Yao couldn't soothe her alone."

I looked at him. "When Little Star was crying, did you hear him?"

Ha Nghien Chi was silent for two seconds. "You were there; of course, I felt at ease."

I let out a soft, hollow laugh. He walked toward me, reaching for my shoulder, but I stepped away. His hand hung in the air, his voice softening. "Yao Yao just went through a divorce; it isn't easy for her to raise a child alone. We all grew up together; you know how it is. She has always been strong-willed since we were kids, and she's not the type to ask for help."

I pulled the divorce settlement out of the drawer and placed it on the table. "Ha Nghien Chi, let's get a divorce."

His expression finally shifted. "Just because of a little incident at the mall today?"

I didn't offer an explanation. After years of being left behind, of being ranked last time after time, the history was too long to explain. I was tired. He picked up the agreement, flipped through it quickly, and when he reached the child custody page, he drew a bold cross through it. "You can leave if you want, but the child carries the Ha name. He stays here."

Hearing that, my fingertips went numb. "You want to fight me for custody of Little Star? Have you ever taken care of him for a single day? Do you know what time he sleeps? What kind of milk he drinks? What he's allergic to?"

Ha Nghien Chi couldn't answer. Instead, he lifted his chin. "Hua Thanh Hoa, don't be impulsive. To marry me, your parents didn't let you step foot in their house for three years. You have no job, no family to return to. If you leave me, where can you go with a one-year-old child?"

The room fell silent. Five years ago, to marry him, I had fought with my family and moved to North City, over two thousand kilometers away. Back then, he had said, "Thanh Hoa, I will give you a home." I had believed him. Now, he was using that very home to ask me where I could possibly go. I took the agreement back. "I am not giving the child to you."

"I won't agree to this. We'll go to court."

Ha Nghien Chi narrowed his eyes. "I won't agree to a divorce, and I won't give up custody."

I nodded and carried Little Star to the bedroom. Just as I shut the door, the sound of a glass shattering against the floor echoed through the living room. I covered Little Star's ears. He slept soundly, oblivious to everything. I stayed awake all night. Little Star woke twice; I fed him and rocked him back to sleep while I searched for information on divorce and custody. Ever since I got pregnant, I had been a stay-at-home mother, leaving me at a significant disadvantage in terms of income. My son was only one year old, and his father had been absent for so long. I needed to document everything regarding Little Star since his birth.

While organizing old photos, I found a picture of us in high school. Ha Nghien Chi stood in the center, Man Yao beside him. I stood on the very edge. We grew up together, but Man Yao was always the center of the crowd—beautiful and intelligent. Whenever she received an award, she would smile and hand her certificate to me. "Thanh Hoa, hold this for me a moment." And so, I was always holding things for her. Ha Nghien Chi was cold, elite, and arrogant. Teachers always said they were a perfect match. They stood on stage to accept awards; I sat below, clapping with everyone else.

The day Man Yao left for college abroad to get married, Ha Nghien Chi stood at the airport for a long time. Man Yao took her new husband's arm and turned to look at me. "Thanh Hoa, a person must always strive to climb to higher ground." Back then, I thought she was just talking about moving away. After we saw her off, Ha Nghien Chi turned to me and asked, "Your best friend is married, and I'm still single. Do you want to try being together?"

I had agreed instantly. Once we were together, he treated me well. If I wanted candied chestnuts from a shop on the south side of town, he would wait in line for two hours to get them for me. When I was in pain during my cycle, he would wake in the middle of the night to make me red sugar tea. When he found out I was pregnant, he hugged me and said, "Thanh Hoa, I will learn how to be a husband, and I will learn how to be a father."

It was because I believed those words that I had fought with my parents and moved so far away. Back then, they had opposed it fiercely, saying only one thing: "You two are not compatible." I hadn't listened.

When the sun rose, Man Yao called. Her voice was light. "Thanh Hoa, don't take what happened yesterday to heart. Little Moon is just too attached to Nghien Chi; there was nothing I could do." I didn't speak. She laughed softly. "Don't blame him. He's just that kind of person—he's never been able to bear seeing me cry."

I gripped the phone until my knuckles turned white. I don't remember what I replied. After hanging up, Little Star coughed in his sleep. I regained my senses and felt his forehead—it was burning. He had a history of allergy-related respiratory problems; the doctor had warned that a fever could not be left untreated. I immediately messaged Ha Nghien Chi: [Little Star has a fever. Can you come home today?]

Ten minutes passed with no reply. I did not wait; I packed and prepared to leave for the hospital. Before I left, my phone vibrated. Ha Nghien Chi replied: [I'm busy. I'll talk to you later.]

The next second, Man Yao updated her social media. In the photo, Little Moon was leaning against Ha Nghien Chi's chest. The caption read: [Grateful to have you, filling the void of the fatherly love she lacks.] Ha Nghien Chi had liked the post. I stared at it for a few seconds, took a screenshot, and then picked up my burning hot son, locked the door, and went to the hospital.

The hospital was crowded. Little Star lay on my shoulder, delirious with fever, his small hand gripping my collar tightly. I registered, paid the bills, had his blood drawn, and got the X-rays. When they drew his blood, he cried until his voice went hoarse. The nurse told me to hold his arm steady, but my palms were so sweaty I almost couldn't hold him. The doctor looked at the results and frowned. "Pneumonia. He's too young; I suggest hospitalization for monitoring."

When I signed the admission papers, the tip of my pen was trembling. Once we were settled in a room, I called Ha Nghien Chi. It took three tries for him to answer. "Thanh Hoa, what's wrong?"

Hearing his voice, my throat tightened. "Little Star has pneumonia and is admitted. Can you come?"

Ha Nghien Chi paused. "Which hospital? I'll contact the head of the pediatrics department to assist you and pay the deposit."

I closed my eyes. "Where are you?"

The other end was silent for two seconds. "Little Moon swallowed some medicine by mistake, and Man Yao is terrified. I'm with her."

Through the phone, I could hear Little Moon crying. "Uncle Ha, my stomach hurts, I want you to hold me."

Ha Nghien Chi coaxed her in a low voice: "Little Moon, be a good girl, I'm here."

Immediately after, a doctor's voice came over the line: "She only swallowed vitamins. Just observe her for two hours; if she's fine, she can go home."

I heard it. Ha Nghien Chi heard it too. I held Little Star and said, "She only ate vitamins. Little Star has pneumonia and is admitted to the hospital."

Ha Nghien Chi's voice dropped. There was the sound of soft footsteps, as if he had stepped away. "I know. Thanh Hoa, I've already contacted the doctor. Little Moon was scared, and Man Yao isn't stable right now. I'll come over as soon as I'm done here."

Not long after, the head of the pediatrics department actually arrived, and we were moved to a private room according to Ha Nghien Chi's arrangements. But these weren't the things I wanted. Little Star was delirious with fever, reaching his hand toward the door. The door was empty. I tucked his hand back under the blanket. At dusk, his fever spiked to thirty-nine degrees. I texted Ha Nghien Chi again: [Little Star is at thirty-nine degrees. When are you coming?]

He replied quickly: [I'm on my way.]

Ten minutes later, he called. "Thanh Hoa, give me another half hour."

Over the phone, I could hear the sound of car keys. The next second, Man Yao's crying cut through: "Nghien Chi, can you not go? I've never begged you for anything before, but right now, you're all I have."

Ha Nghien Chi was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, "I'll take them home first, then I'll come straight to the hospital."

I didn't ask again. In the dead of night, Little Star suddenly went into convulsions. His body went rigid, his lips turned blue, and he could barely breathe. I slammed the emergency bell. The nurses rushed in, and as soon as they checked his blood oxygen, their faces changed. "High fever causing seizures! Oxygen saturation is low!"

The doctor sprinted over. "Prepare for emergency treatment! We may need to move him to the ICU. Call the father."

My hands shook so hard I could barely hold the phone. When it connected, Ha Nghien Chi asked urgently, "Thanh Hoa?"

I heard Man Yao whispering beside him: "Nghien Chi, Little Moon just fell asleep. If you leave now, she'll be devastated when she wakes up..."

I leaned against the wall, my voice trembling. "Little Star is having a seizure from the fever, his oxygen is dangerously low, and the doctor says he might need the ICU. Ha Nghien Chi, get here right now."

The other end said two sentences, but I didn't hear them clearly before I hung up. Little Star was pushed into the emergency room. After the doors closed, I sat on the bench in the hallway, staring at the light above the door for a very, very long time.