Chapter 24 — CEO Phong, Stop Chasing Her—She Already Has a Marriage Certificate

Three months after the fateful conversation in the old office, the garden behind the Phong family villa was decorated simply but cozy for a small ceremony - not a lavish wedding with hundreds of guests like seven years ago, but just an intimate meeting between both families and closest friends.

Small strings of lights are strung throughout the trees, warm yellow light blending with the gradually falling sunset. The white rose bushes Mrs. Ngọc Hân planted from the day Nhã Kỳ first became a bride, have now grown into thick rows, blooming in due season, radiating a gentle fragrance throughout the space.

Nhã Kỳ stood in the small room used as a temporary dressing room, looking at herself in the mirror. The dress she wore that day was not a gorgeous traditional wedding dress, but a minimalist, elegant design she had sketched and sewn herself over the previous two months. It was inspired by the autumn-moonlight evening dress she had drawn the night before her wedding seven years earlier, but with a gentler, freer variation that reflected her current personality.

"Mom is so beautiful!" Bảo Nhiên, now seven years old, ran into the room, wearing a small cream-colored dress that matched her mother's outfit, holding a small basket of flowers. "I get to be a tiny bridesmaid, Mom, Grandma said so!"

"Yes, my daughter will be the most beautiful bridesmaid." Nhã Kỳ smiled, bent down to hug her daughter, her heart filled with a simple happiness that she had not dared to dream of during the darkest days of her life.

Mrs. Ngọc Hân walked in, her eyes filled with tears when she saw her daughter-in-law in her self-designed dress. "You are very beautiful, Nhã Kỳ. I have never seen you as confident and radiant as you are today, even on your wedding day seven years ago."

She gave Nhã Kỳ a small jewelry box. "This is the hairpin I wore on my own wedding day, and also on your wedding day seven years ago. Today, I want you to wear it, not as a symbol of the Phong family, but as a blessing from a woman who has gone through many ups and downs in marriage, for another woman who has just gone through an equally arduous journey."

Nhã Kỳ received the brooch, feeling speechless. She pinned it to her neatly coiffed hair, admiring the reflection in the mirror — not just the image of a bride, but the image of a woman who had gone through a complete cycle of pain and resurrection, standing there now, steadier and more radiant than ever.

"Thank you mom," Nhã Kỳ replied, her voice choked. "Thank you mom for always being by my side, even in the most difficult moments."

Outside the garden, Chính Nguyên stood waiting, wearing a simple ash gray suit, without a tie, his face exuding a relaxation that longtime guests of the Phong family rarely see in this always serious general manager. Mr. Chính Đức stood next to his son, patted his shoulder, his eyes full of pride.

"You have found the most important thing, Chính Nguyên," he said. "I'm glad that you were brave enough to correct your mistake, instead of letting it bury your whole life."

Tú Anh, as the main bridesmaid, stood next to Lâm Bảo Duy - who was invited by Nhã Kỳ to be a representative witness of the career journey she has rebuilt - both of them could not hide their radiant smiles when witnessing this important moment.

"Do you remember the night you called me from Singapore?" Tú Anh whispered to Bảo Duy, his eyes still watching Nhã Kỳ as she was preparing to walk out. "At that time, I never thought that today would come, in this form."

"But it came, the way it was supposed to come," Bảo Duy replied, his voice thoughtful. "Not thanks to miracles, but thanks to Nhã Kỳ's bravery, and Chính Nguyên's true awakening. That is the most sustainable foundation for a marriage."

Đặng Việt Anh and Tống Khải Minh, two people who silently contributed significantly to exposing the truth of the fateful night of the performance, were also present at this small ceremony at the respectful invitation of both Nhã Kỳ and Chính Nguyên, as a token of gratitude to those who accompanied them through the most difficult period.

The ceremony began when the sunset dyed the sky orange. Nhã Kỳ walked out of the small room, holding a simple wedding bouquet of white roses picked from the familiar garden. Bảo Nhiên walked first, scattering small flower petals on the path, her face beaming with happiness.

Chính Nguyên stood waiting at the end of the aisle, his eyes did not leave Nhã Kỳ for even a second. As she walked closer, he gently took her hand, his voice whispering just loud enough for her to hear: "You are more beautiful than anything I could have ever imagined." The officiant — a longtime family friend — invited the couple to exchange vows. It was Nguyen who spoke first, his voice rang out clearly, without any reserve or emotional restraint as he has shown for many years.

"Nhã Kỳ, seven years ago, I married you but never really learned to appreciate you properly. Today, I want to promise you something else—not wealth or status, but that I will always listen to you, always see you, and always consider you an equal partner, not a quiet shadow behind my success. I love you not only because you are the mother of my daughter, but because of who you are—strong, talented, and tolerant enough to give me a second chance that I probably don't deserve." Nhã Kỳ, tears rolling down her cheeks but still smiling brightly, responded with a trembling voice but full of determination. "Chính Nguyên, I used to believe that love is patient waiting, silent resignation. I was wrong. Now I understand, real love is when both people look in the same direction, respect each other, and grow together. I agreed to start over with you, not because I need a husband, but because I believe in the person you have become, and in the person we can build together."

When the two shared a gentle kiss under the sunset, Bảo Nhiên clapped her hands and cheered with joy, running to hug both parents. "I'm so happy! Now our family has both parents!"

Nhã Kỳ bent down to hug her daughter, her eyes looked to Chính Nguyên, they both smiled at the child's innocent happiness - the simple happiness that their whole family had to go through many ups and downs to find completely and truly.

The small party took place cozy in the garden, bustling laughter mixed with sparkling lights and the scent of white roses wafting in the night breeze. Looking around, Nhã Kỳ saw that all the most important people on her journey were present - Tú Anh was chatting loudly with Bảo Duy, Mrs. Ngọc Hân was holding Bảo Nhiên to show her the first stars appearing in the sky, Mr. Chính Đức was toasting with a few old friends.

Chính Nguyên came to her side, gently placing a thin cloak on her shoulders as the night wind began to cool - a small, simple gesture, but filled with sincere concern that he had never known how to express seven years ago.

"Thank you, for giving me this second chance," he said, his voice deep and warm.

"Thank you, for learning how to truly change," Nhã Kỳ replied, resting her head lightly on his shoulder, looking up at the night sky that was gradually dotting the first stars. "From now on, let's continue writing our story together, not as what others expect, but as what we ourselves really want."

That night, under the starry sky of the Phong family's garden, a small family found each other again, not by any miracle, but by sincerity, courage to face the truth, and love strong enough for the two to repair together, grow together, and write a new chapter, warmer and more sustainable than anything they had ever had before.

A few weeks after the ceremony, Nhã Kỳ received a short letter from Diệp Uyển Thi, sent from the coastal city where she was starting a new life. The letter was not long, just a few lines: "I heard about your wedding. I hope you both will be truly happy. I'm also trying to learn how to let go of the past, learn how to live for my own present. Thank you for not crushing me to the end, even though I know I don't deserve that tolerance." After Nhã Kỳ finished reading, she folded the letter carefully, a feeling of peace and relief arose in her heart - not the gloating of a winner, but the serenity of someone who has truly closed a painful chapter in her life, both for herself and for those who were involved.

She put the letter in a drawer, where she still kept her old sketchbook, now filled with new pages, recording not only design ideas, but also the simple happy moments of life today — a diary of drawings, witnessing the complete journey from ashes to resurrection of a woman who learned to both love others and never lose herself.