Chapter 7 — A Lifetime of Missed Affection

I gazed at her for a long moment, nearly failing to recognize my own reflection. It turned out that I was not destined solely to be someone's wife or someone's mother; I could also be simply Hua Thanh Hoa. Half a year later, Little Star began attending an early childhood education program. For Father's Day, the teacher instructed the children to craft handmade paper ties. My father, typically stubborn, insisted he would not go.

"I am an old man; why on earth would I participate in a Father's Day event?"

Yet, on that very morning, he changed his shirt three times before settling on one. Little Star clutched his crooked paper tie and pressed it against his chest. Suddenly, the classroom fell into a heavy silence. I turned my head and saw Ha Nghien Chi standing at the entrance, holding a box of puzzles he had purchased for Little Star. Upon hearing the word father uttered by the teacher, the color drained from his face until he looked deathly pale. My father stiffened for a heartbeat, then lowered his head to straighten Little Star's collar.

"Little Star, he is your grandfather."

Little Star did not understand; he simply hugged his legs and giggled. Ha Nghien Chi slowly knelt down, his voice barely a whisper.

"Little Star, I am your father."

Little Star looked at him, then ducked behind my father's back. Softly, he said, "Uncle." The box of puzzles slid from Ha Nghien Chi's hands, landing softly on the floor. His eyes were rimmed with a piercing, painful red, yet he still forced the corners of his mouth upward.

"Yes," he replied. "I bought toys for you."

I did not correct her. There are certain titles that, once missed, are gone forever. After the event concluded, Ha Nghien Chi stood outside the school gates. He did not block my path. Instead, he spoke in a low, gravelly voice.

"Thanh Hoa, only now do I realize that if the place of a father is left vacant for too long, a child will no longer recognize it."

I looked at him calmly. "It is not that the child refuses to recognize it. It is that you yourself abandoned that position."

He nodded slowly. "I know."

After a long pause, he added, "I will continue to learn how to be a good father. I will also learn how not to disturb your life any further."

I took Little Star's hand and replied with a steady heart, "That is for the best."

Little Star tugged at my hand, pulling me forward. "Mommy, let's go home!"

I smiled and chased after him. The sunlight spilled over his small, retreating figure. I suddenly remembered many years ago when Ha Nghien Chi promised to give me a home. Back then, I thought a home was something one person bestowed upon another. Only later did I understand that a home does not come from a hollow promise. A home is found when someone chooses you with unwavering resolve, and when you turn back, there is always a light left burning for you. I used to be terrified that Little Star would grow up without a father. Now, I understand that the one who is absent does not deserve the title. I no longer have any use for the title of Mrs. Ha. As for the position of Little Star's father, whether he can win that back depends entirely on his actions in the years to come. But for the rest of my life, I will no longer pause or linger for the sake of his late arrival.