Chapter 8 — I took my three children and left, and he regretted it

Until one night. Two o'clock in the morning. The phone rings again. It's Deputy Canh Sam's number. I recognized it immediately. But didn't pick up the phone. The bell rings until it automatically stops. Two seconds later, the call came again. Then call again. Niem An was awakened. Dreamily rubbing his eyes. I frowned. Finally press the listen button.

“You better have something urgent.”

But the person who spoke was not Deputy Canh Sam. It's the Magistrate. His voice was very urgent.

“Canh Sam had an accident.”

I stopped.

“He was drunk and driving.”

“Crashed into a guardrail on the Eastern Expressway.”

“The person's life is not in danger but was taken to the hospital.”

“While unconscious, I kept calling your name.”

I was stunned for a few seconds. Then calmly answer:

“Then call On Di Tinh.”

“She is his girlfriend now.”

“Wen Di Qing is on a business trip.”

“Unable to contact.”

Tham Quyen took a deep breath.

“He refused to cooperate with treatment.”

“Do not let the doctor stitch the wound.”

“I insisted on meeting you.”

“Sister-in-law, I beg you.”

“Can you come for a visit?”

I tightened my grip on the phone. Look at the three children sleeping on the bed. The twins slept until they spread their arms and legs apart. Niem An turned over. Put your feet on your brother's body. It's two o'clock in the morning. If I go. Who will look after the children?

“I can't go.”

I said softly.

“There is no one to look after the child.”

“I'll ask my mother to come over and help.”

“My mother is nearby.”

“Ten minutes to arrive.”

I haven't been able to answer yet. Niem An was completely awake. Dreamily pulled my hand.

“Mom... who's calling?”

"Nothing."

I patted my child's head.

“Go back to sleep.”

Then say into the phone:

“Shenzhen.”

“He and I are divorced.”

“Whether he stitches the wound or not is none of my business.”

The other end of the line was silent. A moment later. Suddenly there was a chaotic noise. It's like the phone was snatched by someone. Right after that. A voice so hoarse that it was almost inaudible came.

“To Van…”

It's Deputy Canh Sam.

“I'll come here.”

His voice broke. Weak like a drowning person trying to hold on to the last straw.

“Just come look at me once.”

My heart suddenly stopped. But just for a moment. I closed my eyes. The voice was so calm that even I was surprised.

“You drank and drove.”

“Then caused an accident.”

"Right?"

The other end of the line was silent. I continue:

“Haven't you ever thought about the consequences?”

“If something really happened to you…”

“What about the people who work for you?”

“What about your parents?”

“Have you ever thought about it?”

He couldn't say anything. Just panting heavily.

“How can I help you if I go there?”

I continue.

“There is a doctor to sew up a wound.”

“When you sign the papers, you have a family member.”

“But I am no longer your family member, Pho Canh Sam.”

“The divorce agreement was signed by you and given to me.”

The other end of the line was silent for a long time. Then came his broken voice.

“I know…”

“I know everything…”

“I just... wanted to see you.”

I closed my eyes. Try to force all the rising emotions down to the bottom of your heart.

“Go get proper treatment.”

I said softly.

“Don't drink anymore from now on.”

Then hung up. Niem An is still not sleeping. In the darkness, the boy's eyes sparkled. The child asked in a low voice:

“Mom, is dad hurt?”

“So is dad dead?”

"No."

I Pull your child into your arms.

“Dad is just injured.”

“The doctor will cure you.”

“That's good then.”

Niem An yawned. Snuggled deeper into my chest again.

“Even though dad doesn't pay attention to me.”

“But I don't want dad to die either.”

I didn't reply. Just press your face against your baby's soft hair. In the dark. Tears quietly flowed down. Wet one corner of the pillow. I still go to the hospital. After Tham Quyen's mother came to help look after the three children. I took a taxi to the city center hospital. By the time we arrived, it was past four in the morning. The lights in the emergency area were so cold and blinding white. In the waiting row, there were a few family members of the patient nodding and dozing. Tham Quyen stood waiting outside the door. Dark circles under the eyes are very obvious. Seeing me, he immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

“The sewing is done.”

“But I definitely refuse to stay in the hospital.”

“Currently in the monitoring room.”

He led me away while talking.

“Seven stitches on the forehead.”

“Slightly cracked ribs.”

“Fortunately, there was no internal damage.”

“The doctor said it would have hit my lung just a little further.”

I didn't speak up. Just follow quietly.