Chapter 15 — Contract of the Heart

Việt Anh submitted his scholarship essay on time, three days before the deadline, a miracle for a person who always leaves everything to the last minute to complete according to his optimal logical calculations. To celebrate, Thảo Nguyên invited him to a small park near school on a weekend afternoon, bringing two glasses of milk tea and a box of homemade cookies.

"Did you make the cake yourself?" Việt Anh asked, holding up a star-shaped cookie to look at it, somewhat surprised.

"My grandmother taught me," she replied, smiling. "Consider it a gift for finishing your essay early. I'm sure the admissions committee will be very impressed."

They sat on a stone bench under an old almond tree, watching children playing on the nearby grass, a rare relaxing atmosphere amid the recent stressful days. Việt Anh recounted the details of the final rehearsal before the team left for the national competition next week, his voice still a bit excited even though he tried to maintain his usual calmness.

A light wind blew, causing dry leaves to rustle and fall around where the two people sat. A group of children nearby cheered when a boy just kicked a homemade goal made of two upright schoolbags, crisp laughter echoed throughout the lawn. Thảo Nguyên sat and admired that scene, feeling a rare sense of relief after the past series of stressful days - the essay deadline, thoughts about unsolved family secrets, and the emotional conversation with Diệu Anh.

"Are you nervous about the finals?" She asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"A little bit," Việt Anh admitted, something he rarely did before. "This year's opponents are stronger than every year, especially the team from the city's specialized school. But our team has prepared well, I believe in the abilities of each member."

"Good luck in the final round," Thảo Nguyên said, sincerely. "I will watch via livestream and cheer from afar."

"Thank you," Việt Anh replied, then remained silent for a moment, his eyes looking far away at the group of children playing. "Hey, I talked to Diệu Anh a few days ago."

Thảo Nguyên's heart skipped a beat. "About what?"

"He... told me that he used to have feelings for me," Việt Anh said, his voice somewhat careful, as if he was testing her reaction. "He said he told you about this before, so I think you already know."

"Yes, I know," Thảo Nguyên nodded, not hiding it. "Diệu Anh told me about it at the rehearsal."

"So why didn't you tell me?" Việt Anh asked, not in a reproachful tone, but with sincere curiosity.

"I think that's Diệu Anh's story, not mine to tell," she replied. "Besides, I think if he wanted you to know, he'd say it himself."

Việt Anh nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. "I honestly don't know," he said, sounding a little guilty. "For many years, I have always considered Diệu Anh as a younger sister and a close teammate. I never thought about the possibility that he had other feelings."

"What are you going to do next?" Thảo Nguyên asked, although she was a little nervous waiting for the answer.

"I talked frankly with him," Việt Anh replied. "I'm sorry for accidentally making him wait without knowing, and affirmed that our friendship has always been important to me, but I can't reciprocate that feeling the way he wants."

"How did he react?"

"Sad, but he said he had prepared himself for that answer in advance," Việt Anh said, his voice low. "He also said something that made me think forever."

"What's the question?"

"He said, looking at the way I talked about you, my eyes lit up in a way he had never seen before, whether talking about robots or anything I was passionate about," Việt Anh said, his voice slow, his eyes looking straight at Thảo Nguyên with a rare sincerity. "He said, that's why he knew he should let go."

Thảo Nguyên felt her cheeks heat up, her heart beating so fast that she could almost hear her own heartbeat ringing in her ears. "Việt Anh..."

"I've been thinking a lot," he said, interrupting her, his voice shaking a bit but still trying to maintain certainty. "About the contract between us, about my feelings, about what has changed over the past two months. And I think, it's time for me to tell you frankly, even though it may violate the fourth clause in the contract we signed."

Thảo Nguyên held her breath and waited.

"I like you," Việt Anh said, his voice no longer hesitant, even though his ears were red with embarrassment. "Not according to the script of the contract, but honestly. I don't know exactly when this started — perhaps from the afternoon you helped me rewrite the story about the toy robot, perhaps from the anniversary of your grandfather's death when you held my hand to reassure me before entering the house. But I'm sure of one thing, this feeling no longer has anything to do with the four terms we agreed upon."

Thảo Nguyên sat silently, her heart racing, a smile slowly appeared on her lips before she realized it. "Me too," she replied softly, her voice shaking with emotion. "I don't know exactly when, but I think I've liked you for a while, I just didn't dare admit it for fear of complicating things."

The two looked at each other in silence, the distance between them on the stone bench seemed to narrow naturally, without any arrangement or acting. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy of almond leaves, scattering shimmering spots on both of their faces, and in that moment, the final boundary between fake and real that the contract had tried to draw completely disappeared.

Việt Anh looked at her, his fingers gently squeezing her hand tighter, as if wanting to make sure this was not a fleeting dream. "I used to think that emotions were an uncontrollable variable, something dangerous that had to be avoided so as not to upset all the plans that had been made," he said, his voice slow, as if he were talking to himself. "But now that I'm sitting here with you, I realize there are variables that are worth taking risks, even worth giving up all safety formulas for."

"You really can only express your feelings in technical language," Thảo Nguyên teased, her eyes watering with emotion even though her mouth was still smiling.

"I'm trying to learn how to express myself differently," Việt Anh replied, the corners of his lips curling up into a rare but warm smile. "You're a good teacher, you'll definitely be able to teach me."

"So," Việt Anh said, his voice a rare bit of confusion, "should we... amend the contract? Delete the fourth clause, for example?"

Thảo Nguyên laughed at his adorable pragmatism even in the most romantic moment ever. "Okay, we'll fix it," she said, taking his hand. "But this time, there's no need to write it down. Just let everything happen naturally, as it should."

Việt Anh nodded, squeezed her hand, and in that rare moment of peace in the small park, the two temporarily forgot all the troubles that still lay ahead - unresolved family secrets, the approaching birthday party with countless curious relatives, and even the vague fear of whether this newly acknowledged sincere feeling would be strong enough to overcome all the upcoming challenges.

They sat together until the afternoon sunlight completely disappeared, the sky gradually turned pale purple with the last streaks of orange on the horizon. The children had all been called home by their parents, the park became deserted, only the sound of crickets chirping in the grass and the street lights began to light up one by one along the path.

"I should take you home before it gets dark," Việt Anh said, standing up, still not letting go of her hand, pulling her up in the same gentle way as never before.

On the way home, the two walked slowly, not in a hurry like usual, occasionally glanced at each other and then burst into laughter for unknown reasons, a sweet and light feeling that Thảo Nguyên had never experienced in her eighteen years of life. Arriving in front of the house gate, Việt Anh stopped and looked at her for a long time.

"From now on," he said, his voice serious but his eyes sparkling with a new gentleness, "everything we do together, even in front of Uncle Xuân, will be real, no longer an act. Are you okay with that?"

"More than okay," Thảo Nguyên replied, smiling, and in her heart, all worries about family secrets, about Diệu Anh, about the upcoming celebration of life party, temporarily receded in this moment, giving way to a simple happiness that she never dared to hope to find from an impulsive lie just over two months ago.