Chapter 18 — A Sweetness Forgotten

Five days after the family party, Yên Thảo proactively texted to meet Thế Khôi at a small cafe, not a luxury restaurant like previous dates - a small change but enough for Thế Khôi to understand that this meeting would have a completely different meaning.

She arrived on time, dressed more simply than usual, her face calm but her eyes carried a clear determination.

"Thank you for coming," she said, when Thế Khôi sat down opposite.

"What do you want to talk about?" He asked, even though he already vaguely guessed the answer.

Yên Thảo was silent for a moment, twirling the coffee cup in her hand, then looked straight into his eyes, her voice calm but decisive. "I think we should stop here, Khoi." Thế Khôi did not show surprise, just nodded slowly. "I've been thinking about that since the party the other day."

"I don't blame you," Yên Thảo continued, her voice still remaining admirably calm. "Actually, I think I should thank you for always being honest with me, even though sometimes that honesty causes me to face unpleasant things."

"I'm sorry for making you wait so long, when my heart has never truly been complete for you," Thế Khôi said, his voice sincere, full of guilt. "You deserve more than that."

"You don't have to blame yourself." Yên Thảo shook her head, a gentle, accepting smile flashed across her lips. "Actually, meeting you, I also learned many things — about how a person can be steadfast with his or her feelings, even when circumstances do not allow it, even when having to wait a long time. Perhaps, one day, I will also find someone who will give me such steadfastness."

"I'll definitely find it," Thế Khôi said, his voice was sincere without concealment. "You are a wonderful woman, Yên Thảo. Anyone who has you is lucky."

Yên Thảo smiled, stood up, held out her hand to shake Thế Khôi's hand in a professional style, although there was still a hint of unavoidable regret in her eyes. "I wish you and Ms. Diệp Chi happiness. I mean it sincerely."

"Thank you." Thế Khôi stood up and squeezed her hand. "I wish you all the best."

Yên Thảo left first, walking straight and confident, without any sadness at all - a dignified ending, mutual respect, no villains, no one being hurt too much, just two adults realizing their paths didn't really lead to the same destination.

***

As for both families, Thế Khôi and Yên Thảo's decision to break up did not cause as much trouble as he had feared. Yên Thảo's father, although a bit disappointed that the expected business partnership associated with marriage was no longer possible, still respected his daughter's decision, without putting pressure or blame.

Mr. Bách Quân, when he heard his son tell the whole story, just nodded, not showing surprise.

"I predicted this would happen, from the day you met little Diệp Chi again," he said, his voice calm. "What you did was right. One should not have to live in a relationship where the other person's heart is not truly complete for them."

"I'm afraid dad will be disappointed," Thế Khôi confessed, "because the relationship with Yên Thảo's family also brings many benefits to Bách Khang's business."

"Son," Mr. Bách Quân looked straight into his son's eyes, his voice rarely serious. "I built this business not for you to sacrifice personal happiness for business interests. If you choose true love instead of an arranged marriage for convenience, that is a choice I fully support."

Thế Khôi felt completely relieved, gratitude rising for his father's understanding - an understanding that not every son in a similar situation is lucky to have.

"But I remember one thing," Mr. Bách Quân added, his voice becoming more serious. "Choosing true love doesn't mean you're allowed to be hasty or impatient. That girl Diệp Chi has gone through too many hurts, too many years of having to shoulder everything on her own. You need to give her time, you need to prove with actions, not words, that your feelings are real, and have nothing to do with who you are or what you have."

"I understand, dad." Thế Khôi nodded, remembering every word his father told him. "I won't be in a hurry."

"I believe in you." Mr. Bách Quân patted his son's shoulder, his eyes full of pride. "You have become a lot more mature than the eighteen year old boy who stood crying alone in the park."

That sentence startled Thế Khôi. "Dad, do you know about that?"

"The driver told dad that I came home very late that night, my eyes were red." Mr. Bách Quân smiled slightly, his eyes distant and reminiscent. "I didn't say it because I didn't want you to feel embarrassed. But I always knew that your feelings for that girl were never shallow."

Thế Khôi was silent, touched by his father's silent concern over the years, a care that was unobtrusive but always present when he needed it most.

***

But when he was about to tell Diệp Chi this news, he faced another problem — how to say it without making her feel pressured, without making her think that he was expecting an immediate response.

In the end, he decided not to say anything, just let time and actions prove it. He continued to keep his commitment to stay out of the appraisal process for cooperation with Ngọt Xưa, continued to treat Diệp Chi with professional respect at work, without suggesting or forcing anything about personal feelings.

The news about Thế Khôi's separation from Yên Thảo, although not widely announced, gradually spread to Diệp Chi's ears through some rumors in the business world that Tường Vy heard.

"Have you heard the news?" Tường Vy asked one afternoon, her voice full of excitement. "Khoi and Yên Thảo broke up."

Diệp Chi stopped while stirring the pot of tea, trying to keep a calm expression. "How do you know?"

"The whole business world has been buzzing for the past few days, haven't you noticed?" Tường Vy raised her eyebrows, her voice filled with excitement and gossip. "I heard that Yên Thảo herself took the initiative to break up, because she realized that Khoi still had feelings for someone else."

Diệp Chi was silent, her heart beat faster than usual, but she tried to restrain herself from letting her emotions show too clearly in front of her best friend.

"Their business has nothing to do with me," she said, trying to keep her voice calm and indifferent, even though a fragile hope had arisen in her heart that she hadn't dared to admit, even to herself.

Tường Vy looked at her friend, smiled slightly mysteriously, did not say anything more, just quietly returned to work, leaving Diệp Chi alone to face the complex emotions swirling in her heart, between secret joy and fear that had not yet completely disappeared about a future that she did not dare to believe was real.

That night, after closing the shop, Diệp Chi sat alone in the small office, turned on her phone, her finger scrolled to Thế Khôi's last message that she had not deleted for many weeks. She read it again, then put down the phone, wondering if she should proactively text and ask about the breakup, or should she continue to keep her distance as she told herself to Tường Vy.

She remembered what her mother said in the past, about not letting fear make decisions for you. But this time, her fear was no longer the fear of being slandered, but a deeper fear — fear that if she opened her heart again, and things didn't go as well as expected, she wouldn't have the strength to get up a second time.

She took out her mother's recipe book, opened it to the "Third Flavor" page, looked at her mother's unfinished handwriting under the warm yellow table lamp, her fingers lightly gliding over each time-stained letter, then suddenly smiled to herself, remembering the words her mother once told her about not being afraid of being misunderstood, just knowing you are doing the right thing.

"I think, maybe it's time for me to try again, Mom," she whispered to herself in the quiet room, closed the notebook, and put it in a drawer carefully. "No matter how scared I am, I don't want to live my whole life just avoiding risks, I don't want to always stand still in one place."

She didn't text Thế Khôi that night, but in her heart, a silent decision had begun to form — the next time she had the chance, she would no longer hide from her true feelings, no matter what the outcome, even though the road ahead was still uncertain.