Chapter 2 — A Lifetime of Missed Affection

By the time Ha Nghien Chi rushed to the hospital, dawn was already beginning to bleed across the horizon. His dress shirt was a mess of wrinkles, and his eyes were webbed with crimson veins, as if he had sprinted the entire distance. Little Star had stabilized, though the child remained fragile, his complexion a ghastly, translucent white. Ha Nghien Chi stood by the bedside, his voice a gravelly murmur.

"How is Little Star?"

I did not look at him. "You are too late."

He reached out as if to touch Little Star, but frozen by the fear of waking him, he held his hand suspended in the air before slowly pulling it back. "I am sorry."

For once, he offered no excuses regarding Man Yao. The following day, he contacted the doctors, arranged follow-up appointments, and secured a new hospital room. When the physicians gave their instructions, he pulled out his phone to record every detail, his focus so intense it felt as though he were terrified of missing a single word. Once Little Star's fever broke, the doctor cleared us to return home for observation. Ha Nghien Chi intended to take us back himself, but before we could leave, he received a phone call. A project at the company had hit a crisis, and the partner hospital was holding an emergency meeting. Everyone was waiting for him. He looked at me, his brows furrowed.

"Thanh Hoa, I will return the moment the meeting ends. Two hours, at the most."

I nodded. "Fine."

He blinked, taken aback, as if he had not expected me to agree so readily. He handed his car keys to the driver, his voice heavy with instruction: "Drive slowly. Turn up the heat in the back seat; Little Star cannot catch a chill." He bowed his head to look at Little Star. "Daddy will be back to play with you soon."

Little Star was already asleep and offered no response. When we arrived at the apartment complex, I checked the time. The car I had booked earlier was already waiting at the side entrance. I only needed to retrieve three things: Little Star's personal documents, his medical records, and the divorce agreement.

The moment I unlocked the front door, I froze. In the entryway sat a pair of Man Yao's high heels. Little Moon's toys were scattered inside Little Star's crib. Man Yao emerged from the kitchen, wearing my slippers, carrying herself as if she were the undisputed mistress of this home.

"Thanh Hoa? You're back?"

"Why are you here?" I asked, the words spilling out like a reflex.

Man Yao smiled and gestured toward Little Star's room. "Sorry about that. Nghien Chi said it would be easier to take care of us here, so he asked us to move in." She tilted her head. "You don't mind, do you?"

I looked toward Little Star's bed. Little Moon was curled up asleep on it. The A-Boi-Boi toy that Little Star loved had been cast aside on the floor. I swept my eyes across the room; in the few days I had been gone, my presence in this house had been almost entirely erased, replaced by Man Yao's intrusion. I said nothing, instead moving to scoop up Little Star and carry him into the master bedroom. Once there, I clicked on the digital voice recorder I had hidden beneath my clothes.

Man Yao followed me in. "Thanh Hoa, we grew up together. I don't want to make things ugly between us."

I shoved the medical records into my bag and asked softly, "Did you come back to find Ha Nghien Chi because you had no one else to turn to, or because he is useful again?"

Her expression shifted. "What is that supposed to mean?"

I looked at her steadily. "When you married and moved abroad, didn't you say that a person must always climb toward the highest peak?"

She stared at me, then let out a sharp, brittle laugh. "That's right. If I hadn't looked down on him for being poor back then, do you really think it would have been your turn to marry him?"

I raised my gaze to meet hers. "And yet, you married someone so 'excellent'."

Man Yao's eyes turned icy. "He was excellent, it's a pity it was all just a hollow shell. He went bankrupt and tried to drag me down to pay his debts. Why on earth should I have suffered with him? I didn't suffer with Ha Nghien Chi back then, and I certainly won't suffer with a loser now."

The room fell into a heavy silence. Little Star breathed steadily on the bed, still frail from his illness. Man Yao took a step forward, lowering her voice. "Hua Thanh Hoa, do you know what I hate most about you? It's that you never have to fight for anything, yet you end up with everything. The family background, the parents, the friends, and that sunny disposition that everyone loves. Back then, Nghien Chi and I were the perfect couple, and you were just the one standing on the sidelines, applauding. Tell me, why did he end up belonging to you?"

I did not answer. She watched as I packed my things, her tone softening into a faux-kindness. "I should thank you for these past few years. While I was gone, you took care of Nghien Chi for me. But now that I'm back, it wouldn't look very good for you to keep occupying the spot of 'Mrs. Ha'."

I placed the final file into my bag. "The night Little Star was rushed to the hospital, you knew full well that Little Moon was fine. Why did you hold him back?"

Man Yao paused, then smirked. "Little Moon had just taken her vitamins; of course I knew she was fine. I just wanted to see... if I cried, would Ha Nghien Chi, who once held me above all else, still choose me? And the truth proved that he still does."

The timer on the recorder ticked away, counting the seconds. I picked up Little Star, slung my bag over my shoulder, and looked at her. "Man Yao, there is no need to be in such a hurry to claim the position of Mrs. Ha. It is only once I decide I no longer want something that the seat becomes vacant."

Man Yao's face went deathly pale. She took two steps toward me, shouting, "Hua Thanh Hoa, who are you pretending to be so noble for?"

I did not turn back. The door clicked shut behind me. Downstairs, the car was already waiting. As we pulled away from the complex, Little Star slept soundly in my arms, and I did not look back at the life I was leaving behind.