Chapter 20 — Appointment Under the Stars

The next morning, just as she told herself, Ngoc Han proactively went to school earlier than usual and found Nhat Quang before class. She found him sitting alone in a familiar corner of the schoolyard, where the two of them had many memorable conversations. His eyes looked tired as if he had gone through a sleepless night just like hers.

"Hello," Ngoc Han said, sitting down next to him, her voice much softer than the day before.

"Can you sleep?" Nhat Quang asked, his eyes full of concern.

"Not much," Ngoc Han replied honestly, smiling slightly. "But I've thought carefully about yesterday. I'm sorry for reacting harshly, I know you're just worried about me."

"No, I'm the one who needs to apologize," Nhat Quang interrupted, his voice sincere. "I thought all night about what you said. I realized I was wrong to make my own decisions for you, no matter how good my intentions were. You deserve to respect your right to make your own decisions for your own life, especially after everything you've been through."

Ngoc Han was silent for a moment, touched by the sincerity of that apology. "I think the problem isn't just about assigning tasks," she said, trying to clearly express the thoughts that had matured after a night of pondering. "I think we both need to learn to communicate more openly, to share frankly when something makes us worried or uncomfortable, instead of silently handling it ourselves the way we think is right."

"You're right," Nhat Quang nodded in agreement. "From now on, whenever there is any decision related to you, I promise to ask for your opinion first, no matter if I think it's the best thing in my own opinion."

"And I will also try to be more honest when I really need help or rest, instead of trying to shoulder everything alone," Ngoc Han added, a gentle smile on her lips. "Maybe this is also an important lesson for both of us, learning how to love each other properly, not only with good intentions, but also with mutual understanding and respect."

Nhat Quang smiled, gently held her hand, his eyes filled with warmth. "Thank you for not giving up, for staying to solve this with me instead of leaving silently."

"I will never do that either," Ngoc Han replied, squeezing his hand. "We have gone through so many challenges together, I have no intention of giving up halfway."

That morning, when they both entered the classroom with a much lighter mood, it seemed like a layer of gloom had dissipated, giving way to a stronger bond between them, forged through this first but also meaningful collision.

In the afternoon, the preparations for the event continued to go smoothly, with only five days left until the big day. All items are almost completed, from the sound and light system, the main observation area, to the small exhibition booths introducing astronomy to visitors. The atmosphere in the club was filled with excitement and nervousness as the big day was approaching.

That evening, when Ngoc Han had just returned home, preparing to sit at her desk to review a few Biology chapters for the upcoming exam, her phone suddenly rang. Looking at the name displayed on the screen, her heart once again sank — it was three.

"Dad," she picked up the phone, trying to keep her voice calm even though a familiar worry arose in her heart.

"Ngoc Han," her father's voice rang out, sounding much more tired and burdened than last time. "Dad called to tell me the bad news. The incident on the rig was much more complicated than originally expected, the company just decided to extend the repair time for at least another month. Dad... I really can't come back in time for your event anymore."

Those words were like a strong blow to Ngoc Han's already fragile heart, completely extinguishing the small ray of hope that she had tried to hold on to all these days. She felt a lump in her throat, unable to utter any words for a moment.

"I... I understand," she finally said, her voice so small and hollow that she didn't even recognize her own voice. "Thank you, Dad, for letting me know in advance."

"Ngoc Han, I'm really sorry," her father said, his voice choked with helplessness. "I know this apology doesn't mean much after everything that's happened, but I hope you understand, this is really something beyond my control."

Ngoc Han didn't answer, just quietly said goodbye and hung up, placing the phone on the desk with trembling hands. She sat silently in the darkness of the room, did not turn on the light, did not cry, only a strange emptiness spread throughout her body, heavier than any feeling of suffering she had ever experienced before.

I don't know how long she sat like that, but when Ms. Lan knocked on the door and walked in, turned on the room light, she was startled to realize that tears had rolled down her cheeks without even realizing it.

"Son, what's wrong?" Ms. Lan ran in panic and hugged her daughter who was trembling in the dark.

"Dad can't come back anymore, mom," Ngoc Han said, her voice strangely monotonous, as if her emotions had completely exhausted herself after such a huge shock. "The incident on the rig lasts another month. Dad won't be able to return in time for the event."

Ms. Lan remained silent, only hugging her daughter tightly, unable to find any words of comfort enough to ease the pain that was clearly visible on her daughter's face. She understands that there are wounds that cannot be healed with words alone, but require time and a silent presence by her side.

A long time later, when the tears finally stopped falling, Ngoc Han spoke up, her voice hoarse from crying so much. "I don't know if I still have the strength to stand in front of hundreds of people on the night of that event, Mom. I don't know if I still have the courage to look up at the starry sky without Dad there."

"You don't have to be strong right now," Ms. Lan said, her voice gentle, stroking her daughter's hair. "You just let yourself be sad, let yourself hurt, that's completely legitimate. But I believe, when the time comes, you will find your own strength, not because Dad is present or not, but because you have come a long way, too worthy to give up right now."

That night, after her mother left the room to let her daughter rest, Ngoc Han lay on the bed, her eyes still open and staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. She texted Nhat Quang with just a few words: "Dad can't come home anymore." Just a few minutes later, her phone vibrated, it was a video call from him.

"Are you okay?" Nhat Quang asked as soon as she picked up the phone, his face appeared on the screen with worried eyes, even though it was quite late.

"I don't know," Ngoc Han replied, her voice hoarse. "I thought I was mentally prepared for this possibility, but when it actually happened, I still felt as if my whole world had just collapsed."

"I wish I could be there right now, hugging you instead of just looking at the phone screen like this," Nhat Quang said, his voice filled with helplessness and sadness. "But I want you to know, that night of the event, I will stand right next to you, from the first moment to the last. You won't have to look up at the sky alone."

Those words, although unable to fill the void left by her father's absence, still brought Ngoc Han some much-needed warmth in the middle of this cold, dark night. She nodded, smiled slightly through the tears still on her eyes, whispered thanks before they both said goodbye through the screen, leaving a long night ahead in which she knew she would have to struggle a lot to find peace in her soul.

She put the phone down on the table, reached for the small wooden box where the old star map her father once drew for her was kept. This time, instead of the familiar warm feeling like the previous times, she only felt a bitterness creeping in when looking at those scribbled letters, like a promise from a long time ago that now, once again, could not be fulfilled. She folded the map and put it in a drawer, not to deny or resent it, but simply to need some silence to give her heart time to calm down before being able to face it again, one day closer than she thought.

Ngoc Han put her head on her mother's shoulder, not saying another word, just letting the warm silence between mother and daughter fill the void present in her heart, a void that she knew would probably take a lot of time to learn to accept and move on, with only five days left before the meteor shower that she had waited a long journey to witness with her father, would finally take place without the presence of the person she was most looking forward to.