Chapter 4 — Medals Are Not For You

"Today I said, without her, there would be no me now." “It's just a courtesy.” “You speak so smoothly.” “She helped me with my leg problem before running, when I…” “My calves didn't cramp.” Luc Thua Da raised his head. I opened the pain feedback sheet he sent to Tong Han before the match. "Your soleus muscle is strained to the second degree, applying heat for 20 minutes will restore it to normal. What Tong Han did was normal muscle relaxation, there was no emergency treatment, let alone saving the match." “Do you even want to fight about this matter?” He stood up, the chair dragged on the floor, making a harsh friction sound. "For the past few months, she's been following me around, after training, she still has to process data. How many people looked at me like that today, what if I gave her a gold medal to wear for a while?" “It's okay.” I picked up the medal on the bed and gave it to him. “Your medal, wear it to whoever you want.” Luc Thua Da did not accept it. “So what are you so angry about?” “Luc Thua Da.” I put the medal on the table. “Do you remember the first time you got out of bed?” His eyebrows furrowed together. “Why are you suddenly asking about this?” "The first time he completed 10 meters of walking without an assistive device, he fell at the 7th meter. The second time he reached the 9th meter, the incision was bleeding. The third time was successful, at 1:17 am." I opened a video. In the picture, Luc Thua Da is so thin that he has only skin and bones, his left leg is shaking constantly. He held onto the balance beam to the finish line, hugging me. He said: "Wait until I win back the championship, the first gold medal will be given to you." Luc Thua Da finished reading and pondered for a long time. “I remember.” “It's okay if I remember.” I turn off the video. "Today's moment, I was indeed very upset. But now that it's over, let's talk about the documentary." “Do we have to talk about work?” “I'm a rehabilitation doctor.” “You are also my wife.” He finally uttered this sentence. The tone carried self-pity as a matter of course. "Kieu Tranh, outsiders compete for fame and fortune, I can understand. Do the two of us need to calculate so clearly? I get the medal, aren't you happy? Do you have to let everyone know how much you have contributed to be satisfied?" I looked at him. There was only one table lamp on in the room, the gold medal lying between the two of us, reflecting the cold light. “When did you know the documentary would erase my name?” Luc Thua Da avoided my eyes. “I did not participate in editing.” “The first draft was sent to my email last month, I looked at it three times.” He turned around. “You check my email?” “Once you log in on my computer, your viewing history will automatically sync.” The air seemed to freeze. He picked up the glass of water on the table and took a sip. "The club has considered propaganda. Tong Han is the team's official doctor, his image is also suitable for filming. Your husband and I relationship is based there, now with the title 'Core Rehabilitation Doctor' attached, it is easy to gossip outside that the club uses unprofessional people." "I have a national level sports rehabilitation specialist certificate and have led seven professional athletes. What is not professional?" “I'm not saying you're unprofessional.” “Then write your name in.” Luc Thua Da put down the cup, his hand was a bit strong. "The film has already been submitted for approval, now editing it will involve a lot of people." “So you knew all along.” He did not deny it. "I thought it was just a documentary, there was no need for you to be in conflict with the club. I won't rely on this to get a job in the future." “Who told you I didn't accept the job?”