Chapter 16 — No One Wants to Lose

Part IV — The Wrong Gambit

Three weeks before the regional finals, Lam Khe noticed that his father was becoming more and more strange. He often comes home later than usual, citing busy work, and every time a call comes from an unknown number, he rushes out to the balcony to listen, his voice lowered, completely different from the recent openness between father and son after a warm talk about the Chess Club.

"Is something wrong with Dad lately?" Lam Khe asked one evening, when he saw his father had just ended a mysterious call, his face was clearly tense.

"It's nothing, son, just business," he replied, trying to give a reassuring smile but not entirely convincingly. "Just focus on your tournament, don't worry about dad."

Lam Khe didn't completely believe that reassurance, but she also didn't want to ask too much, partly because she respected her father's private space, partly because she was putting all her energy into preparing for the upcoming finals. She told herself that it was probably just normal work pressure, and tried to get rid of the feeling of insecurity that still lingered in her heart.

But on a Friday night, when Lam Khe was on her way home after a late practice session with Nam Phong, she happened to pass by the old neighborhood near the park, where there was a familiar cafe that she had deliberately avoided for the past six years - the same cafe where her father used to sit and play chess for money in the past, where all her family's tragedies began.

She intended to quickly walk past, as she did every time she accidentally passed this area, but a familiar figure made her stop in the middle of the road. Through the pale yellow light from the cafe, she saw her father sitting at an old wooden table, facing a strange man, between them was a Chinese chess board with unfinished chess pieces, and a wad of money placed next to it.

Lam Khe's heart seemed to stop beating in that moment. She stood rooted to the spot, unable to believe what her eyes were witnessing. For six years, her father did not touch any form of gambling, rebuilding the family's trust through hard work and determination. Yet now, he sat there, in the middle of the old cafe, with a wad of money placed next to the chess board.

She stepped closer, unable to hold back, even though her limbs were shaking. When she was a few meters away, she heard a conversation between her father and the strange man.

"Mr. Trung, I know you've paid off most of the old debt from that time, but as for the part I guarantored to help you with Mr. "I know you're better now. Just play one game. If I win, I'll be able to repay your debt. You won't lose anything, because the money is mine."

Her father sat silently for a moment, his face filled with tears, looking down at the chess board in front of him. "Uncle Bay, I promised my wife and children to never touch this again," he said, his voice trembling but still trying to maintain his stance.

"I understand, but this is to help me, not because you're playing for yourself," the man named Bay continued to persuade. "Besides, you're such a good chess player, in just one game, you'll win for sure."

Those words — "win for sure" — rang in Lam Khe's ears like a warning bell, recalling exactly the same words she had heard recounted about that fateful night when she was twelve years old. She saw her father hesitate, his hand gently touching a chess piece, and in that moment, fear flared up fiercely in her heart, stronger than at any time during the journey she had tried to overcome it.

"Three!"

The call burst out of Lam Khe's mouth before she could think, resounding in the quiet space of the cafe, causing both her three girls and the man named Bay to turn and look in surprise.

Her father's face changed instantly, from torn to panic and extreme embarrassment when he saw his daughter standing there, witnessing this entire scene. "Lam Khe, you...what are you doing here?" he stammered, hastily getting up from his chair.

"I'm the one who should ask you that question," Lam Khe said, her voice shaking with a mixture of anger and fear that she had never experienced with her father before. "Dad, what are you doing here? You promised me, mom, that you would never..."

She couldn't finish her sentence, her throat was choked with emotion. The man named Bay, realizing that the situation had become tense, quickly packed up the stack of money, mumbled a few words of apology and then left quickly, leaving her father standing there alone, facing his daughter's hurt eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice shaking, his face pale under the yellow light of the cafe. "I don't really want to play, I just... uncle Bay was the one who helped me a lot back then, I didn't know how to refuse when he asked for help."

"Dad is about to sit down and play!" Lam Khe screamed, tears began to flow uncontrollably. "I see everything, Dad has already picked up the chess piece! Six years, Dad told me that in six years, he has completely changed, but if only an old acquaintance came to beg, would he be ready to return like that?"

Her father stood still, unable to refute, because he himself was not sure whether he could really resist that temptation or not if Lam Khe did not appear on time. That silence, more than any explanation, made Lam Khe even more painful and panicked.

"I don't know how to trust you anymore," she said, her voice choking, then turned and ran, without waiting for her father to say anything else, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the old cafe, where their family's tragedy had once begun, and now almost happened again.

Lam Khe ran all the way home, tears streaming down her face, her mind reeling with the image of her father sitting in front of the chess board, a wad of money placed next to her, and the words "you're sure to win" kept echoing endlessly in her head, rekindling all the obsessions that she thought she had begun to learn how to let go of.

When she got home, she rushed straight to her room, slammed the door, sat down on the floor, her back against the edge of the bed, her hands hugging her knees. The sobs that had been pent up all the way home were now truly released, making her whole body tremble every now and then. She remembered every detail of the scene she had just witnessed - the pale yellow light, the wad of crumpled old bills, her father's torn face, and especially the moment he touched the chess piece, a small gesture but enough to destroy all the trust she had tried to rebuild over the past six years.

Her phone vibrated continuously - first a text message from her father, then a missed call, but Lam Khe didn't have the courage to answer the phone or read any of the text right now. She was afraid that if she read those explanations, she would fall back into the vicious cycle of forgiving too easily, just like how her whole family forgave him six years ago, only to discover how fragile that trust could be.

She texted Yen Chi, with messy, interrupted lines, telling her what had just happened. Yen Chi called immediately, her worried voice filled with questions, trying to reassure her best friend over the phone even though she didn't know exactly what to say in this situation. "Do you want me to come over to your house?" Yen Chi asked, her voice full of concern.

"No need, I just need... I just need to be alone for a while," Lam Khe replied, her voice still shaking with emotion.

The call ended, Lam Khe sat quietly in the darkness of the room, without turning on the light, letting the tears roll down her cheeks without bothering to wipe them away. She looked at the old wooden chessboard placed on the desk, the two kings still standing facing each other as always, and for the first time in a long time, she felt a vague hatred for that very chessboard - the thing that was once a gift that connected her to her father, had now become a symbol of the very fear she had been trying to overcome for the past few months.

There was a light knock on the door, then her father's voice came in, trembling and full of guilt. "Lam Khe, can I talk to dad? I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."

Lam Khe did not answer, just sat silently in the dark, listening to her father's footsteps standing in front of the room for a long time, then slowly leaving, leaving a heavy silence covering the whole house, a silence that she knew would last for many days to come, when both father and son did not know where to start to mend the newly broken trust.