Chapter 21 — Contract of the Heart

After many nights of discussion, Thảo Nguyên and Việt Anh decided that the first step in the journey to face the truth would be to talk to Việt Anh's father - the only person in the two families who still had direct contact with the memory of Mr. Bảo Tín.

On Saturday evening, Việt Anh invited Thảo Nguyên to his house for dinner, something that had never happened during the contract period, because he always kept a distance between his "role" and his family's private life. His father, Mr. Dinh Quang Minh, welcomed her with a polite but somewhat reserved attitude, his eyes still filled with worry from the argument with his son the day before.

The meal took place in a somewhat more formal atmosphere than usual. Mr. Minh asked Thảo Nguyên about her studies, about her job editing the school newspaper, with a polite attitude but still maintaining a certain distance, different from the warmth that Mrs. Xuân had for Việt Anh from the first meeting. Thảo Nguyên understood that this was a father's way of carefully protecting his son after past hurts, so she patiently answered each question sincerely, without showing any signs of discomfort.

After the meal, when the three of them sat in the living room drinking tea, Việt Anh cleared his throat and opened his mouth carefully, having carefully prepared in advance. "Dad, Thảo Nguyên and I have something to tell you, related to grandpa."

Mr. Minh frowned and put down the tea cup. "What's wrong with your grandfather?"

Thảo Nguyên took out the black-and-white photo from her pocket that she had asked permission to take from Ms. Xuân's album, and placed it on the table next to the original photo that Việt Anh had brought with him the day before. "Uncle, this is my grandmother when she was young. And this is Việt Anh's grandfather. These two photos were taken around the same time; it seems like they knew each other very well."

Mr. Minh picked up the two photos and compared them carefully. His face gradually changed from surprise to an indescribable emotion. "This... this is the woman in my father's old letters," he said, his voice shaking. "For many years, I have always been curious about the person who wrote those letters, but my father never revealed his name."

"My grandmother's name is Ngô Thị Xuân," Thảo Nguyên said softly. "She said that when they were young, she and Mr. Bảo Tín loved each other deeply, but because of war and family opposition, they lost each other."

Mr. Minh was silent for a long time, his eyes filled with tears, a complex emotion clearly visible on the face of the middle-aged man who always remained calm and somewhat closed in front of his son. "My father, until his death, still kept the wooden box containing those letters," he said, his voice choking. "Once I asked him why he didn't throw it away after he had started a family of his own. He just said that it was part of the most beautiful memory of his life, and had nothing to do with his love for his wife. It was simply something he wanted to keep so he wouldn't forget."

"I still remember," Mr. Minh continued, his voice steeped in nostalgia, "once I secretly opened the wooden box to look at it when my father was away, and read a passage in the last letter. The writer mentioned that he would wait at a familiar tea shop every first Sunday of the month, hoping that one day he could meet again. My father said, he went there to wait for nearly a year before giving up hope." He stopped, looking at the two photos on the table with distant eyes. "Unexpectedly, after all these years, that story would come back in such a magical way."

Việt Anh looked at his father and realized that this was the first time in many years that he had seen him express his emotions so honestly. "Dad," he said softly, "I think, the story of you and Uncle Xuân, although unfinished, proves that sincere love still has its own value, even though it doesn't always come to a perfect ending the way people want."

Mr. Minh looked at his son, seeming to understand the meaning behind that statement. "Are you talking about me and Thảo Nguyên?"

Việt Anh nodded, not avoiding. "I know you're worried about your parents, but I think, if grandpa, despite having an unfinished love affair, can still live a meaningful life and build a happy family with grandma, then I also believe that I can learn to face risks in love without letting fear completely dominate my life."

Mr. Minh was silent for a long time, looking at the two photos placed on the table, then turned to look at Thảo Nguyên with eyes that were much softer than his initial cautious attitude. "You are Uncle Xuân's grandson," he said, his voice warmer. "Listening to you, I believe you're a good girl. I'm sorry for being so harsh the other day. It was because I was scared for my son, not because I doubted you."

"I understand, uncle," Thảo Nguyên replied, touched by his sincerity. "I also have my own fears. But I think, because we witnessed the pain of our predecessors, we appreciate the opportunity to be together even more."

"Việt Anh told me you were the one who helped him rewrite his scholarship essay," Mr. Minh said, his voice completely friendly. "He sent it to me to read. I cried when I read it. I didn't expect my son could express himself so deeply. Thank you for helping him open up more."

"It's only thanks to Việt Anh's courage to share his true story," Thảo Nguyên replied, glancing at Việt Anh with a warm smile. "I just help him find a way to express it in a way that touches the reader."

Mr. Minh nodded and quickly wiped away the tears that had just rolled down the corner of his eyes, a rare gesture that Việt Anh had never witnessed since the day his mother left. "I think," he said, his voice steady again, "our family should officially meet Uncle Xuân once, so that both sides can review the old story, see it as a way to close an unfinished chapter, and at the same time open a new chapter for your generation."

Before leaving, Mr. Minh also brought out his family's small wooden box and carefully took out a stack of old letters that had become yellow over the years, with the neat handwriting of a long time ago. "These are the letters your grandfather kept," he said, showing Thảo Nguyên the top letter. "I think maybe you should read it, maybe it will help you better understand Uncle Xuân's story, so that when you talk to me, you can choose the most appropriate words."

Thảo Nguyên picked up the letter, the familiar slanted handwriting made her stunned - it was the same handwriting Mrs. Xuân still used to write down recipes in an old notebook at home. Reading those words, filled with the innocent and pure feelings of seventeen and eighteen years old, Thảo Nguyên felt a sting in her nose, and had a clearer picture of a young, lovesick Mrs. Xuân that she had never known.

Thảo Nguyên and Việt Anh looked at each other, both feeling that a great burden had been lifted somewhat after this conversation. But they also know that the hardest challenge still lies ahead — how to tell Ms. Xuân about this fateful connection, while still finding a way to confess to the lie that started it all, without making her hurt or feel betrayed.

"We'll do it step by step," Việt Anh whispered to Thảo Nguyên as he saw her leave, holding her hand tightly as a reassurance. "First it's your grandparents' story, then our story. Uncle Xuân deserves to know the truth in the most complete way, without haste, without haste."

Thảo Nguyên nodded, even though she was still filled with anxiety about how she would take all of this, especially the final secret, the part that could hurt the most — the fact that this entire relationship, at least in the beginning, had started with a lie.

On the way home, she sat on the back of Việt Anh's bicycle, leaning her head against his back, feeling the cool night breeze blowing as the two cycled slowly through the empty streets. She still carefully kept her grandmother's old letter in her pocket, close to her chest, as if keeping a precious memory of the grandmother she loved the most. She thought about the journey ahead, about how she would show that letter to her grandmother, and about the moment she realized that her unfinished first love had finally found a magical way to end, not with sadness, but with a warm continuation through the next generation.