Chapter 2 — I took my three children and left, and he regretted it

The nearest one had to wait nine minutes. The night wind blew. The two twins sneezed. I took off my coat and wrapped it around my children. Then smiled at Niem An.

“Come on, mommy will take you kids to eat hot wontons.”

Finally, Niem An also laughed. Raise your little finger.

“Then I want to eat two bowls.”

“Okay, two bowls.”

Five years ago, when she married Pho Canh Sam. I just turned twenty years old. There is no wedding. No wedding ring. Even the photo of the marriage certificate was taken by a stranger standing in front of the gate of the civil affairs department. He was wearing a black shirt standing next to me. The expression was just like going through a normal administrative procedure. After receiving the marriage certificate. He took me to a Western restaurant to eat. He said:

"We're getting married, just getting married. Do you understand what I mean?"

My hand holding the knife and fork trembled slightly. Then he still smiled and nodded. Liking him is my own business. As long as I like it alone, it's enough. As for whether he likes me or not... I don't dare ask. The first year after marriage. He rarely comes home. Every day I cook rice waiting for you. Reheat cold food. Reheat three or four times. The kitchen light is always on until midnight. I won't wait anymore after this. But the rice still cooks. Who knows, maybe one day he'll be back on time. Then one day. He really returned. As soon as I opened the door, I saw four dishes and one soup on the dining table. He stood there dumbfounded for a few seconds. I reflexively explained:

"It's not me who cooks. I just put the food outside, I'm too lazy to throw it away."

He truly believes it. That year he had a stomach hemorrhage and had to be hospitalized. I stayed by the hospital bed for three days and three nights. When I woke up. He looked at me. Then say one sentence:

“You've had a hard time.”

Yet he said something like that to me. I gave him the apple I had just finished peeling. He didn't accept. Turned around and told the assistant:

"Remember to keep a close eye on her project."

It is the white moon light in his heart. Second year of marriage. I'm pregnant. It was a rare day that he was at home. I took the pregnancy test out of the bathroom. He was sitting on the sofa watching the report. The head doesn't even lift up. I placed the pregnancy test on the folder. Two red lines appeared clearly before his eyes. He frowned. Lift the pregnancy test stick aside.

"About two months ago. That time I got drunk."

He was silent for a long time. It was so long that the only sound left in the living room was the ticking of the clock hands. Finally he spoke:

"This baby, if you want to give birth, just give birth. I won't stop you. But you have to understand, maybe I can't give it too much."

At that time I naively thought. What I can't give you. I'll make up for it twice. Pregnancy examination alone. Go into the delivery room alone. The day I gave birth, the nurse asked me if I was in pain. I said it doesn't hurt. The nurse smiled and said I was very good. But actually it hurts to death. There's no one next to me that I can weakly say:

“I'm in so much pain.”

Niem An was born as a boy. The nurse brought the baby in for me to see. A small ball of cotton wrinkled, the cry was extremely loud. I named my child Niem An. A year later, I gave birth to two more twins. Named Niem Du and Niem So. Niem An is the eldest brother. At just three years old, he already resembles an adult brother. Frequently help me comfort the two children. Niem Du smiles often. Everyone who carried him smiled widely. Still Niem So looks exactly like his father. Just quietly opened his dark eyes to look at the world. The first time Pho Canh Sam met Niem Du and Niem So, they were a month old. He stood next to the baby's crib and looked for a long time. Then ask me:

“Are they twin boys?”

He gave me a bank card.

"Living expenses. I'm having a hard time."

I don't refuse. Because hiring a nanny, buying milk powder, diapers... everything requires money. I have never spent more than a penny on that card. Every expense is carefully recorded in a book. I always thought I would pay him back later. Third year after marriage. I learned to be silent. No more sitting on the sofa waiting for him late at night. No more asking if he will come home for dinner today or not. No more trying to tell him that Niem An already knows how to call mom. One time Niem An had a high fever. I held my child alone until four in the morning. The light in the hospital hallway was cold and white. Niem An had such a fever that she cried non-stop. I hug my child. Then cry too. I made three phone calls to Deputy Canh Sam. Only on the third call did he pick up the phone. On the other end of the line was loud, mixed music. He said:

"I'm receiving guests. Take the car to the hospital yourself."

Then hang up. Hugging Niem An rushed straight into the rain. That day it rained very heavily. I waited for a taxi for more than half an hour. Niem An's body temperature is getting higher and higher. When you arrive at the hospital, your body temperature will be measured. My fever has reached forty degrees. I almost thought I was going to lose my baby. The doctor diagnosed pneumonia. Must be hospitalized immediately. I wiped out all the cash on me to pay the advance. Don't dare swipe his card. The day Niem An was discharged from the hospital. I wrote a sentence in my diary:

“Our marriage, I'm the only one trying.”

That rainy night. For the first time, I had the idea of leaving him. The taxi stopped in front of an old alley. I pay for the car. The driver helped me carry the baby stroller down. Seeing me alone pulling a suitcase, pushing a stroller with two babies, and also carrying a small boy. He couldn't help but ask:

“Girl, is there no one else in the house?”

I smiled.

“I still have these three kids.”

Niem An is very understanding. Actively put the diaper bag on your shoulder. The bag was bigger than the boy's body. Half of the street lights in the alley are broken. Light sometimes shines on the green stone surface. There was a faint smell of damp moss in the air. The old house is what my grandmother left me. There is only one bedroom and one living room. The moment of opening the door. The musty smell immediately hit me. Niem An sneezed.

“Mom, this house smells so bad.”

“After a few days it will no longer smell bad.”

I pulled the curtains open. Moonlight flooded into the room. Even dust particles can be seen floating in the air. The twins slept soundly in the stroller. I spread the bed. Then picked each child up in turn. The bed is not big. But still enough for three children to lie down. Niem An did not go to bed. The boy pulled a small chair to the sink. Trying to turn on the faucet and wanting to wash my hands. I stepped forward to help my child. At that moment, the boy turned his head.

“Mom, will we live here in the future?”

“Um, live here.”

“What about dad?”

“Dad doesn't live here anymore?”

I dry my child's little hands.