Chapter 16 — Forced to Peel Shrimps, I Smashed an Entire Family

I said softly.

“The one who should thank me is me.”

He leaned closer, warm breath brushing his ear.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

His hand rested gently on mine, warm and firm. I don't take it back. That night, we were officially together, without any fanfare, everything happened naturally as it should. The following days passed smoothly, we practiced together, read books together, cooked together, and shared the smallest things in life. He remembers that I don't eat coriander, like hot coffee, and I remember that he often wears glasses when reading, and often unconsciously rubs his hands when thinking. We are independent but not distant, like two parallel lines that finally find their intersection. My parents quickly got to know him, and when I brought him home, things were warmer than I expected. Dad played chess with him all day, mom kept asking questions, and the meal that day was full of laughter. Dad rarely drank alcohol, but that day he raised his glass and patted him on the shoulder.

"My little girl has suffered a lot. If you make her sad in the future, I won't let her go."

He nodded, his eyes very serious.

"Please rest assured."

My mother looked at us, a gentle smile spreading across her face. That day, the sunlight was so beautiful, so beautiful that I felt happiness was approaching, very close. The time to truly let go of the past came very unexpectedly. One afternoon walking around the mall, I ran into an old acquaintance. Co Vien Son. He was very old, his back was hunched, his hair was white, his eyes were dull and tired. In his hand was a shopping bag, the appearance of a man so ordinary that no one would realize he had such a past. Our eyes met for a second. He recognized me, flashed a flash of embarrassment and regret, then bowed his head and hurried away. Tham Muc gently squeezed my hand.

“Are you okay?”

I looked at his back, then smiled. It's really okay. No more anger, no more resentment, no more feeling of wanting to retaliate. There was only a very light silence left, like a story that had ended a long time ago. Those people, those things, were completely removed from my life. No longer relevant, no longer influential. I turned to look at the person standing next to me. The light shone on him, warm and clear. That's my present. It's also my future. I squeezed his hand, no need to say anything more. We walked forward, but behind us, the past was left far behind, there was no possibility of going back. In the fall of my second year, Tham Muc took me to his hometown, a peaceful river area, a small bridge across the stream, a black tiled roof under the soft sky. His parents were university lecturers, spoke softly, had gentle eyes, did not ask any questions about the past, just held my hand and smiled as if they had known me for a long time. His mother personally placed a jade bracelet on my wrist, her voice warm.

“From now on, this place is also your home.”

I nodded, my throat tight, feeling clearly for the first time what it was like to be fully accepted. A home where you don't need to be cautious, don't need to try to fit in, just be yourself. Returning to the city, we began to build our own lives, buying a small house with a yard where I could grow flowers and he would stay by my side to take care of them. We together chose the wall color, the furniture, and every little corner contained our desire for a future Simple but sturdy. One afternoon, while the two were watering newly planted rose bushes, the sunset sun shone down, dyeing the whole yard yellow. He put down the water bottle, wrapped his arms around me from behind, his chin resting lightly on my hair.

“Khuong Hoa.”

“Let's get married.”

His voice was low, gentle but firm, like a ripe promise. I didn't turn around, just leaned against him, clearly hearing the steady heartbeat behind me.

“You haven't proposed yet.” I teased softly.

He laughed, turned me around, his eyes became more serious than ever. He knelt down and opened the small box, inside was a simple ring but shining brightly in the afternoon light.

“Khuong Hoa.”

“I am not a prince, nor am I the one who came to save you.”

“Because I am already my own queen.”

“I am strong, brave, and don't need to rely on anyone.”

“I just hope I can stand beside you and walk with you through the journey ahead.”

“Share the joy, and face the stormy days with me.”

“So… do you agree to give me a place next to you?”

Tears fell from my eyes, not because of weakness, but because of overwhelming happiness. I nodded, speechless. The ring fit snugly on my hand, as if I had been waiting for it for a long time. He stood up and hugged me.

“I love you.”

"Me too."

We stood in the afternoon light, surrounded by blooming roses, just like my life, finally entering its most beautiful season. Our wedding was simple, with only family and close people. No need to be lavish, just warm enough. I wore a white wedding dress, held my father's arm, and walked step by step towards the person waiting at the end of the ceremony. He looked at me, his eyes full of gentleness and certainty. Dad put my hand in his, his voice lowered.

“Dad gives me my daughter.”

He held my hand tightly.

“Dad, rest assured.”

The light from the stained glass window shines down, covering us with a layer of soft light like a blessing. I turned back to look at my parents, they were smiling through their tears. I also laughed. A truly complete smile. I used to fall to the bottom, I used to believe that marriage was just a trap, I used to think that people were only calculating. But now I understand, not everything is wrong, I just haven't met the right person. By leaving the wrong, you can find the right. Leaving behind the past, I found myself again, and met someone worthy. There is no longer darkness ahead. There is only light, flowers, and a love strong enough to accompany me for the rest of my life. I'm still myself. Strong, independent, not bowing to anyone. And this time, I'm staying true to the version I love the most.