Chapter 5 — My Sister-in-Law Is Not My Maid

Word has it your sister-in-law gave birth?

Yes. Twins.

You are not going?

Not going.

Good.

She sent a thumbs-up emoji.

Oh, right, there is something I should tell you. I ran into Phuong Cam Than at Wanda two days ago.

Vu Dong husband?

Yes. He was with a woman, and it was not Vu Dong. They were dressed in the style of a mistress, and the two of them were quite intimate.

I looked at these lines of text, falling silent for a moment.

Are you sure it was him?

One hundred percent. I even took a picture, do you want to see?

Send it.

Co Thanh Van sent two photos. The shooting angle was a bit distant, but one could clearly see the profile of Phuong Cam Than back and the back of that other woman. The two of them walked arm in arm into a hotel. I saved the images. I did not mention it to Tran Trac Vien, nor did I tell my mother-in-law. This matter was of no use to me at present. But who could say it might not come in handy later. I turned off my phone, finished my shower, and when I lay down, a very clear thought flashed through my mind. Tran Vu Dong marriage was hardly in such great shape either. Her husband was keeping someone on the side, while she was going through her postpartum confinement in my house, and my mother-in-law remained blissfully blind to it all. In this family, everyone had their own little play to act out. Only I stood outside, soberly watching. This sensation could hardly be called pleasant, but at least it was better than sinking deep down into the mire. On the fourth day after Vu Dong finished giving birth, Tran Trac Vien arrived. Not by making a phone call, not by sending a WeChat message, but by coming directly to find me at my small apartment. At eight o'clock in the evening, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find him standing out in the hallway, carrying a bag of things in his hand.

How did you know this place?

Your car parks in this neighborhood every day, I checked the security cameras.

His complexion looked terrible. I did not block the doorway.

If you have something to say, say it.

Lam Niem So, let us talk.

I looked at him for a few seconds before stepping aside to let him enter. He stepped inside, sweeping his gaze across this tiny forty-square-meter apartment. The desk was covered in blueprints, project progress charts were taped to the walls, and several sticky notes were plastered onto the refrigerator.

Since when did you rent this place?

A year ago.

He turned his head to look at me, his expression somewhat complicated.

You kept it hidden from me for a year.

I needed a space of my own.

He set the bag he was holding down onto the coffee table; inside were a few items I had previously left at the house: two books, a charger, an unopened box of facial masks.

Vu Dong gave birth, two girls.

He sat down on the sofa.

My mother is very happy.

Congratulations.

Do you not have anything else to say?

I leaned against the desk, crossing my arms as I looked down at him.

Tran Trac Vien, what on earth did you come here to say?

He was silent for a moment, then opened his mouth:

I feel there is a problem between us.

Is it that you feel it, or have you finally discovered it?

He raised his head:

Niem So, I admit that the way I handled things last time was not right. But you cannot just walk away like this because of that...

Walk away like this?

I gave a faint laugh.

I have been gone for twenty days, and this is the first time you have come to look for me. Even coming to find me is only because Vu Dong has already given birth, has someone to take care of her confinement, and you feel I ought to return now.

His lips parted slightly.

You are not looking for me because you miss me, but because you need this marriage to look normal.

You...

Tran Trac Vien, let me ask you a question.

I looked straight into his eyes.

If Vu Dong had not gotten pregnant, would you have come to find me?

He did not answer. This was the answer in itself.

You should leave.

I opened the door. He stood up, walking as far as the doorway before pausing.

Niem So, do you really want a divorce?

What do you think?

He looked at me, panic flashing in his eyes the likes of which I had never seen before.

I do not agree to a divorce.

That is your concern.

He left. After the door closed, I discovered that I did not feel the slightest emotional turbulence. No sadness, no anger, no entanglement. I only felt that this person was completely unrelated to me any longer. Over the next month, I fully stepped into a new rhythm of life. The work intensity at Hoa Truc was higher than at the design institute, but the nature of it was different. Here, there were no layers of approval and lengthy procedures; the speed from concept to execution was three times faster. The Lang Dinh project progressed exceptionally smoothly. The developer was extremely satisfied with my very first conceptual design proposal, directly skipping the selection round and confirming that Hoa Truc would oversee the entire interior design. When Trinh Hac Nien announced this news during the team meeting, my colleagues burst into applause.

This client was brought in by Niem So, so everyone will coordinate according to her pace from now on.

He stood before the white board and spoke. I nodded, without saying much. At the same time, my social media account, A Single Room, surpassed two hundred thousand followers. An interior design brand approached me for a year-long collaboration involving twelve pieces of content for a lump sum of one hundred and eighty thousand. A real estate developer reached out through direct messages, wanting to invite me to design the model home for their new project with a budget of six hundred thousand yuan. My individual income alone had already exceeded twice Tran Trac Vien annual salary. Of these things, he knew absolutely nothing. In his mind, I was still the wife working at the design institute with a monthly salary of twenty thousand.