Chapter 12 — Hockey Stars Can't Overcome My Figure

Man Afraid Of Lights

Tong Bao Duy was not unaware of unusual things. He was a professional athlete, accustomed to analyzing every detail of his opponent's play to find weaknesses, and that part of his instinct, even though he tried to ignore it, still worked every time he was near Ha Vy and baby Bin.

He realized that the child rarely actively hugged him, even though the media still portrayed meetings between father and son as "warm, bonding" moments. He realized that Ha Vy always skillfully steered every private conversation between them away from the topic of DNA testing, giving all kinds of reasons — from "needing time for the baby to get used to the new environment" to "fear of the test results being leaked to the media before the two of them were ready."

One evening, after a heavy practice session, he went to the apartment that the football team had arranged for Ha Vy and baby Bin to temporarily live in — an arrangement that Pho Dinh Khang proposed to "conveniently build a family image" in upcoming photo shoots. He found Ha Vy sitting alone in the living room, baby Bin was sleeping in a separate room.

"I want to talk about testing," he started, sitting down across from her.

Ha Vy looked up, her eyes were slightly surprised but quickly changed to a familiar look of hurt. "Do you still doubt me, Bao Duy? After everything I went through alone during the three years of raising my child, you still need a piece of paper to believe me?"

"It's not that I don't trust you," Bao Duy said, trying to keep his voice calm. "But I need to know for sure, because this is not just about the two of us anymore. This is something that affects my whole career, my public image, to..." he hesitated, not wanting to mention Yen Thao's name in front of Ha Vy.

"To her?" Ha Vy said, reading his thoughts immediately, her tone turned bitter. "The analyst you've been keeping a secret from for the past four years? I know everything, Bao Duy. I don't blame you for having someone else after we broke up. But I think you should ask yourself, did that woman ever give birth to a child for you, did she ever sacrifice her youth to raise it alone while you were engrossed in pursuing your career?"

That statement, even though it was based on a premise that Bao Duy was not yet certain was true, was still enough to make him feel guilty — exactly the effect that Ha Vy had carefully calculated when uttering it. She had learned over the years of watching her father run his business that, sometimes, an accusation wrapped in a shell of hurt carried more weight than any concrete evidence.

"I didn't mean that," Bao Duy said quickly, his voice less determined than before. "I just want everything to be clear, both for you and for baby Bin."

"Okay," Ha Vy replied, her voice softened in a calculated way, "if you really need it, I will agree to do the test. But I need time to mentally prepare my child, and I hope you understand, if this leaks out before the official results are out, it will ruin both of our images, especially your image before Viet Thinh Group."

It was a cleverly placed statement - both seeming to give in and at the same time instilling fear in Bao Duy's mind about the media consequences, enough to make him not dare to push faster. He nodded, accepting the delay as a reasonable compromise, not realizing he had just been subtly led.

After leaving Ha Vy's apartment, Bao Duy drove around many streets of Bang Giang without a specific destination, trying to sort out the chaotic thoughts in his head. He remembered the evening seven years ago, when Ha Vy said goodbye to him in a small cafe, her voice was so cold and decisive that it made him, then still an anonymous reserve player, feel unworthy of being loved. "I can't bet my whole future on someone who isn't sure about his own career," she said, before leaving without looking back.

It took him nearly a year to overcome that pain, and the person who patiently sat next to him through every psychological rehabilitation session, every night he lost sleep because of the obsession with failure, was Yen Thao. She never mentioned that past, never compared herself to the woman who left him, just silently rebuilt his trust little by little, without asking for any recognition in return.

That thought made him feel extremely embarrassed about the answer he gave in front of the cameras during the season launch ceremony. He took out his phone, intending to text Yen Thao a more sincere apology, but then put the phone away, telling himself that he needed to wait until everything with Ha Vy was completely clarified before he could face her properly. It was another in a long series of delays he had allowed himself over the past several weeks, each time with a plausible-sounding excuse.

The next day, he had a private meeting with Pho Dinh Khang about the progress of "stabilizing the family situation" before a major advertising event of Viet Thinh Group scheduled to take place in the next few weeks.

"You need to understand," Pho Dinh Khang said, his voice serious, "Viet Thinh's advertising campaign this season is built entirely around your story - a man who overcomes storms to fulfill his family responsibilities. If you now openly doubt or request a DNA test immediately, and unfortunately that information leaks out before the results are available, the public will see you as a man who shirks responsibility, not someone who seeks the truth. That image can be destroyed. The entire three-year contract we just signed."

Bao Duy heard those words with a familiar feeling of suffocation - a feeling he often has when faced with great pressure in his career, a feeling that in the past it was Yen Thao who always helped him overcome with patient conversations and meticulous psychological analysis of competition. Now, without her by his side, he feels like he's sinking into a maze with no way out, where every choice leads to some risk that he doesn't have the courage to face.

"I understand," he said to Pho Dinh Khang, his voice tired. "I will continue to wait patiently."

"Good," Pho Dinh Khang nodded, looking relieved. "And one more thing, Bao Duy, I advise you to focus entirely on your performance during this period. The most important season of your career is approaching, and the Platinum Cup is not waiting for anyone to resolve their personal matters. The team, fans, and sponsors are all placing great expectations on you this season."

Bao Duy nodded, but in his heart, the double burden of competition performance and personal emotional turmoil was starting to weigh heavily on his shoulders in a way that before, when Yen Thao was by his side to support his competitive psychology, he had never had to bear such a heavy burden alone like now, amid so many pressures gathering at the same time.

But deep inside, a part of him - the part that was once grateful to Yen Thao, that promised her that one day he would make the whole world know that she deserved to be recognized - was still silently tormented, although not strong enough to overcome the fear that was covering him. He knew he was delaying an important truth, just because he was not ready to face any outcome that could destroy the perfect image he had built up over the years in public.

That night, alone in the apartment, he reopened the old photo archive on his phone, looking for pictures taken with Yen Thao on the rare trips where they could be together without worrying about the camera lens - one afternoon at a small restaurant on the edge of the city, one time they watched the match tape together until late, both laughing at some awkward moment on the field. He looked at those photos for a long time, feeling a feeling of nostalgia mixed with guilt rising in his heart, but in the end he still turned off the phone screen, telling himself that this was not the right time to act on those feelings. He did not know that this repeated procrastination, accumulated day by day, was pushing him further and further away from the opportunity to correct his mistakes before things become irreversible.