Chapter 2 — Group Chat Without You

I picked up the phone, her voice was three parts more serious than usual: "To Niem, our family is gathering for dinner this weekend. Are you coming? Mom said I haven't seen you for a long time."

“When are you guys planning on it?”

“Just discussed it yesterday, I forgot to tell you.”

Forgot? Or did they collude with each other in the other group, confirm that I would definitely come and then send the invitation?

“Let me see the time.”

“Yes, let me know what you decide.”

"Oh right—" She lowered her voice, "Lately, Du has been under a lot of work pressure, please forgive him a little, don't get angry at him anymore."

I was stunned for a moment: "When did you get angry at him?"

“He said I rarely talked to him these days and didn't report on a business trip.”

"To Niem, we've been together for four years, you have to take the initiative, men also need to be coaxed."

It turns out that in his story, I didn't pay any attention to him. I'm not proactive.

“I know, Ms. Tran.”

I hung up the phone and stood in the middle of the bedroom, suddenly not wanting to leave anymore. Not because of nostalgia. But I feel like it would be a good thing for them to just leave quietly like this. More than seven hundred messages, the group chat had been established for two years and three months, each message was discussing how to get rid of me. Don't I even deserve an explanation? In the evening, Tran Du finished playing games. Seeing me sitting absent-mindedly on the edge of the bed, he leaned in and kissed my forehead.

"What are you thinking? Do you want to go out to eat?"

“Tran Du.”

“Huh?”

“Do you have something to hide from me?”

His movements paused for a moment, then he laughed: "What do you mean? What's wrong with you today?"

"Nothing. I just asked."

“Aren't you watching short clips online? Bloggers teach girls every day to check their phones, not to be led by the nose.”

He reached out and patted my head, his tone as if he was comforting a child.

“Let's go, let's eat hot pot.”

While eating hot pot, he received a phone call and immediately stood up and went out. The moment his phone screen lit up, I saw - it was Phuong Hoai calling. He walked to the door, turned his back to me, lowered his voice and said something. I didn't hear the content clearly, but I saw him laugh. The type of laugh that is extremely relaxing, without any restraint. When he's with me, he rarely smiles like that. When he returned, he didn't say anything and continued dipping the beef.

“Who called that?”

“Phuong Hoai, will you go play football tomorrow?”

“Are you going?”

“Depends on the situation.”

I picked up a piece of beef and bit it off. Depends on the situation. The word "depending on the situation" translated to him means - see how the other group is arranged. The next day is Saturday. At nine o'clock in the morning, Tran Du left the house and told him to go play football. I said “Yes”. After he left, I turned on the iPad he left at home. His WeChat account is not logged out. I found that group — “Happy life without To Niem”. The last message was at seven thirty this morning. Phuong Hoai: *"Confirm again, To Niem won't come today for a picnic?"* Chu Ham: *"If you don't come, don't come, I'll tell you that I'm going into seclusion to write a report today."* To Trach: *"I also told my sisters that I'm going to my friend's house."* Tran Ngu: *"Okay, then at two o'clock in the afternoon, let's meet at the North gate of Vien Bac park."* Tran Du dropped an OK icon. Polish. He told me he was going to play football. I put down the iPad, leaned back in the chair, my chest felt like something was weighing me down. Not angry. It's a very deep, unspeakable discomfort. They have formed a complete process. First confirm my absence, then split up and lie to me, and finally concentrate. Like a sophisticated operation, the goal is only one: Eliminate To Niem. I looked at the clock, nine forty. There are more than four hours left from two o'clock in the afternoon. I scrolled through messages in the group for a long time.