Chapter 23 — Seeds After the Rain

Tuesday morning, Gia Huy came to the garden earlier than usual, carrying a pot of yellow chrysanthemums carefully placed in a paper bag. He arrived even before the official meeting time, hoping to meet Quynh Nhu privately before the other members arrived.

She showed up early, checking the watering system alone, her face still showing signs of fatigue from the past stressful days. When she saw Gia Huy appear, she paused slightly, but still maintained her familiar calmness.

"Hello," she said, her voice still keeping a certain distance.

"Like, can I talk to you for a second?" Gia Huy asked, his voice somewhat nervous.

Quynh Nhu nodded, put down the watering hose, stood facing him, waiting.

"I know apologizing can't erase what happened," Gia Huy began, his voice sincere. "But I want you to know, I've thought a lot about what I did, and I understand why it hurt you so much. Not just because I was absent, but because I didn't have the courage to be honest with you."

He put the pot of yellow chrysanthemums in front of her. "I brought this, not to make up for it or erase my mistake, simply as a way to say that I'm truly sorry, and I remember you telling me your father liked this flower."

Quynh Nhu looked at the flower pot, her eyes were a little emotional, but she still did not accept it right away. "Thank you," she said softly. "But Gia Huy, a flower pot cannot change the fact that you lied to me."

"I know," Gia Huy replied, his voice determined. "So I don't expect your immediate forgiveness just because of a pot of flowers or an apology. I want to prove it with my actions, in the time left before the school board meeting. I will do whatever I can to help save the garden, not to regain your trust, but because I truly believe in the value of this place, and I want to fix what I damaged."

Quynh Nhu was silent for a long time, her eyes looking at him intently, as if trying to evaluate the sincerity in each word. Finally, she took the flower pot and placed it gently on the familiar stone under the mango tree.

"Okay," she said, her voice still reserved but less cold. "I will give you a chance to prove it. But I need to make it clear, this is not that I have completely forgiven, it's just that I am willing to give you time to act."

"Thank you," Gia Huy said, feeling a sense of relief creep into his heart, even though he knew the road ahead was still long. "I won't disappoint you again."

From that day on, Gia Huy threw himself into work with stronger determination than ever. He devoted all his free time, including breaks between classes, to support the club in preparing for the final efforts before the school board meeting. He contacted the reporter who had attended the event the day before, asking for an additional interview to clarify the value of the garden, trying to make up for the incomplete impression from the somewhat embarrassing event.

He also took advantage of his new relationship with Dang Khoi, who was now really enthusiastic about participating in support, to organize a second signature campaign, targeting parents that Dang Khoi's group of friends knew, especially those who had a voice in the school's parent association. The number of signatures in support, which had stopped at eight hundred after the first campaign, now continued to increase, surpassing one thousand signatures in just one week.

On Thursday afternoon, when Gia Huy and a few club members were cleaning up the display area after a tiring work session, Anh Duong approached him and looked at him with eyes that were somewhat softer compared to the previous coldness.

"I have to admit," she said, her voice a bit hesitant, "you've been working really hard these past few days. It's not just to please Nhu, I can clearly see that you're really trying for the garden."

"Thank you for noticing," Gia Huy replied, smiling slightly. "I know I've broken a lot of things, and I can only try to fix it with action, there's no other way."

Anh Duong nodded, was silent for a moment, then added, "Like he's still hurt, you know. But I think, he also realizes what you're doing. It just needs more time for the trust to return."

Those words, although not a direct forgiveness, still gave Gia Huy a little hope to continue trying. He looked towards Quynh Nhu, standing not far away, meticulously taking care of the pot of yellow chrysanthemums he gave her, placing it in a special corner near the mango tree, where she often sat and took notes in her diary. That scene, even though small, was enough to spark a fragile but true hope in his heart.

In the following days, Gia Huy kept his promise. He no longer misses any activities, even when there are other attractive invitations from his group of friends. One time, when Tuan invited the group to go see the movie premiere of a movie he was looking forward to, Gia Huy refused without hesitation, not because of fear or obligation, but because he really wanted to be at the garden to finish editing all the campaign documents for the upcoming meeting.

He also proactively proposed a new idea - organize a short livestream on social networks, inviting a few students, teachers, and even a former student who is currently working in the environmental field to share their thoughts about the garden, to create more of a ripple effect before the decision day. That idea received enthusiastic support from the whole group, including from Quynh Nhu, who although still kept a certain distance from him, could not deny the effectiveness of his continuous contributions.

One afternoon, when the group was rehearsing the content for the livestream, Mr. Binh stopped by, bringing new news. "I just heard rumors," he said, his voice cautious, "that at the upcoming school board meeting, there will be quite strong opposing opinions from the parents' association representatives, who still prioritize the need for parking. We need to prepare ourselves for a debate that will not be easy."

That news made the whole group quiet, but Gia Huy, instead of letting himself drown in worry like before, felt a new determination arise. “Then we need to be even more prepared,” he said, his voice firm. "I will contact a few more parents who have signed in support to see if anyone is willing to speak directly at the board meeting. An opinion from another parent can carry much more weight than just a student speaking up."

Quynh Nhu looked at him, her eyes slightly surprised at his initiative and calmness. "That's a good idea," she said, her voice less distant than it had been the previous day. "Who do you think might be willing to do that?"

"I will try to contact Thao's mother first," Gia Huy replied. "She works in the parents' association, and I remember her praising this project when she read the article the other day."

The rehearsal continued to go more smoothly, with a spirit of determination spreading throughout the group. Gia Huy realized that, although the distance between him and Quynh Nhu had not yet been completely eliminated, the work exchanges between the two had gradually become more natural, less awkward in the first days after the incident, as if every day of hard work, every sincere contribution, was little by little rebuilding the bridge of trust that had been broken.

That evening, when everyone had left, Gia Huy stayed a bit to water the pot of yellow chrysanthemums before leaving the garden. Quynh Nhu, who was tidying up books nearby, saw that gesture and didn't say anything, but her eyes softened a bit. "This flower really suits that corner," she said softly, breaking the silence. "Thank you again, for remembering."

"Nothing," Gia Huy replied, trying to keep his voice gentle, not wanting to seem too pushy at this rare sign of warmth. "I just hope it blooms beautifully, like everything else here."

Quynh Nhu smiled slightly, a fleeting smile but enough for Gia Huy to feel that, although slowly, the road to healing between the two was still moving forward step by step, not thanks to flowery promises, but thanks to perseverance in every small action every day.

That scene, even though it was small, was enough to spark a fragile but sincere hope in his heart, that perhaps, with enough time and sincerity, what had been broken could gradually be healed again, just like how a wounded tree can still recover if cared for properly and patiently long enough.