Chapter 5 — Our Three Year Marriage Is Over

Side story I am Tong Nguyen, my mother named me. The name at home is An An, which my father gave me. But I don't seem to remember my father's face. Hearing my mother say that my father was very handsome, I didn't believe it at first, until I looked in the mirror... Well, it's not surprising that since I was a child, many boyfriends have chased me. Even though my father is not around, my mother loves me very much. Therefore, from childhood to adulthood, I have never been bullied just because of the lack of a father figure. At the age of 25, I took over my mother's company and from "Little Tong" became a real "Tong". My mother traveled all over the world, often sending home plaster statues to paint herself. It is true that age may grow old, but a girl's heart does not. Mom said she wanted to live a happier life than my dad. I listened but just shook my head. At the age of 30, I got married. I told my husband that raising me was not easy for my mother, so I must be filial to her. My husband nodded in agreement. Three years later, we had a baby girl. My mother exclaimed: "That's great, the Song family has a happy ending." At 35 years old, our company is getting bigger and bigger. My mother exclaimed again: "This is what strong women should do." At the age of 52, my mother's health gradually deteriorated. My husband and I were both very sad, but my mother still said strongly: "It's okay, your father hasn't died yet, so how can I die first?" Until one day, a box appeared at the door. When I researched carefully, I realized it was brought by a nearby neighbor. He said that he bought a house nearby a long time ago and now had time to move in. When cleaning, he discovered some remaining furniture. He saw an address on it so he brought it there. I saw the words "Da Than" on it and nodded: "It must be my father's thing." When I brought it home, I opened it and looked carefully. Inside were a few old notebooks, full of dusty notes for pregnant women. Inside the box were a series of small plaster statues, a ring and a thick notebook. The pages in the notebook are covered with text, but the date at the top of the page has been blurred by water and is no longer clear. My mother picked up the notebook to look at it for a while, but because her eyes could no longer see as clearly as before, she gave it back to me. "I'm so curious, read it to me," she said. I opened the first page and started reading: "Today I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. I begged the doctor, it doesn't matter how much money, just give me more time. The doctor said he would try to treat it. I also didn't dare tell Tieu Can, because she was pregnant with my child." I don't want her to suffer any more shocks. I don't know what she will do if Tieu Can leaves me. Today, Tieu Can and I painted a plaster statue for our unborn child. "My illness got worse again today, even though I took all the medicine. But after the surgery, as soon as I turned on the phone, I saw Tieu Can calling me more than ten times times. I rushed home, and saw her falling in a pool of blood." Reading this, I carefully looked up at my mother. She sat opposite me, her face expressionless, but her voice trembling constantly: "Continue reading." I nodded, turned back to the notebook and continued reading: "It's been many days without writing in the diary, because our child's story is too painful. Even in the diary, I can't utter those two words. Tieu Can is angry with me. Many times I wanted to tell her about my illness, but I couldn't. She lost her child, and was very miserable. When she's better, I'll tell her. Since losing her child, Tieu Can has always been sad. She doesn't seem to blame me anymore, but lately when we talk, she's always angry

still mad at me. Tieu Can has been sad for a long time. I asked the doctor, and the doctor said she couldn't stay like that forever. It will be very uncomfortable inside if you keep suppressing it. So I started deliberately teasing her, making her angry. Lately, Tieu Can's temper has become increasingly hot-tempered, but her health is much better. Let her be angry with me, as long as she doesn't take it to heart. But I still don't dare tell her about my illness, because I probably won't live much longer. I'm afraid if she knows I'm going to die, she'll be sad all her life." "Tieu Can called me today. Her voice was very weak. I was in a meeting at that time. As soon as she raised her head to tell her colleagues that I was busy, she hung up. When I got home in the evening, she was fine. I asked why she called me today, but she just shook her head and said nothing. Today, Tieu Can proposed a divorce. It seems like she never really loved me. On the wedding day, I excitedly wanted to announce it to my colleague, but she didn't want to. She must be embarrassed by me.” As soon as I finished reading this sentence, my hand suddenly felt cold. Raising my head, I saw my mother spit out a mouthful of fresh blood. Mom fell ill and was determined to find my dad, but all she found was a grave. I know my mother misses my father very much. Mother often sat quietly in front of the tombstone, whispering to him: "You said you would burn a lot of joss paper for me." Why do you have to hide it from me? The next half of my life lived in luxury, but no one burned joss paper for me.” “Aren't you used to spending money down there?” My mother often joked like that when burning gold coins for my father. I thought my mother would cry, but she didn't cry, but every day when she stood in front of my father's gravestone, she smiled brightly. My mother's health became weaker and weaker, we often advised her to stay home and rest, but she insisted on visiting her father. She burned piles of joss paper and only left when the sun set. After only half a month, my mother was so sick that she could no longer walk, but she still wanted to go out to find her father. Luckily, thanks to Dad's diary pages, we were able to convince Mom to stay. She wanted to hear the rest of what dad wrote in the diary. I said: "Mom, rest assured and recuperate in the hospital, I will read it to you." She finally agreed. Outside, the sun is about to set. I took out the diary and continued reading: “Today is the second month since our divorce. My sister, who has lived abroad for more than a decade, just returned. She insisted on taking me to the hospital. I agreed, but right at the hospital gate, I met Tieu Can. I was scared, but still wanted to talk to her. Today, she resigned, and forced me to throw away the plaster statues we made for my daughter. Luckily, I secretly picked it up and brought it with me when I died, maybe I could meet our daughter. I heard that Tieu Can just opened a company and is short of capital. Luckily I have enough ability to help. Today, I suddenly fainted and was taken to the hospital. While lying on the stretcher, I seemed to hear her voice. After waking up, I went to look for her, but it turned out it wasn't a dream. Knowing we had another daughter, I was so happy that my hands were shaking and I couldn't even write. It seems like God is still treating me well. Lately, even holding a pen has become difficult. Maybe I can't write a diary anymore.” I read this and suddenly raised my head to look at my mother lying on the hospital bed. She closed her eyes slightly, looking like she was sleeping. The last line in the diary, the handwriting is crooked, but two lines of words can still be read: "Tong Can, five years of peace. I love you.” I tried to hold back my tears, choking up as I read every last word.