Chapter 11 — He Only Woke Up After the Divorce

I adore everything about you: the way you smile, the way you focus when drafting your designs, and even the way you sprawl across the floor to measure spaces, scolding the contractors all the while. I adore all of it.

His voice remained steady, though his fingers trembled ever so slightly.

I will not pressure you. You can take your time to think it over. Whether it takes a day, a month, or a year, that is perfectly fine. I only want you to know that there is someone who wishes to treat you with genuine kindness. Not to possess you, but simply to be by your side.

A breeze swept through the courtyard, setting the leaves into a soft, rustling dance. I looked at Tham Tu. His eyes were bright and filled with sincerity. There was no sense of oppression, no heavy shadow of possessiveness, none of the sharp, demanding edge that had once declared, You belong to me. There was only that single condition: if I were to say yes. I parted my lips, wanting to say the word, wanting to give it a try. But the word "yes" caught in my throat, refusing to emerge. An image suddenly flashed in my mind: Bui Dien standing before the office building, having grown noticeably thinner, smoking a cigarette all by himself. He was a man entirely transformed from the one who had pursued me three years ago. Back then, he had said, You cannot escape me. Now, he said, It no longer concerns me.

Three years ago, he kept me locked within his reach. Now, he stands at a distance, watching me walk away. I do not know which version of him is the true one, but I know that today, I cannot utter that simple "yes."

Tham Tu, I began, you are a very good man.

His smile faltered for a heartbeat.

But for now, I cannot give you an answer. It is not because you are lacking; it is because I have not yet cleared my own mind.

He was silent for two seconds before he smiled again. There was a trace of loss in his expression, but not a hint of resentment. Very well. I will wait for you.

Thank you.

After leaving the villa, I sat in my car, staring blankly ahead for a long time. Then, I pulled out my phone, found Bui Dien's number, and pressed call. It was answered after only three rings—faster than ever before. There was a second of silence on the other end, followed by his low, gravelly voice:

Ky Duong?

He sounded uncertain, almost cautious—a sharp departure from the overbearing Bui Dien who once refused to accept any denial.

Bui Dien, I said, I have something I need to speak with you about.

...All right. Where?

The cafe beneath your office. Half an hour.

Understood.

When I hung up, my heart hammered against my ribs. It was not fear, nor was it the flutter of romance. It was the desperate need to finally speak the words that had remained trapped inside me for these past three years. The debt he owed me was not a matter of money; it was an apology. A true, honest apology, delivered while looking me in the eye, showing he understood exactly where he had gone wrong. If he could say it, perhaps I would consider giving him the chance to get to know me all over again. Not to reunite, not to return to the past, but to begin in an entirely new way so he could prove he had truly changed. If he could not do that, then this would be a final farewell—not one fueled by anger, but a permanent goodbye.

Half an hour later, inside the cafe, he was already waiting for me. He sat in a corner booth with two cups of coffee on the table: an Americano and an oat milk latte. As I sat down, he looked at me. He had grown thin; dark shadows hung beneath his eyes, and his jawline was even more pronounced than before. But the look in his eyes had shifted entirely. Before, when he looked at me, he was a hunter stalking his prey. Now, he looked like a man who had committed a grievous wrong and was unsure if he even had the right to speak.

Ky Duong, he began, his voice hoarse and strained, I am sorry.

Two words. Two words I had waited three years to hear. He had never said them before because he had never believed he was at fault. He had convinced himself that managing me, controlling me, and locking me by his side was simply love. Now, at last, he had said it.