Chapter 7 — Stupid But Strong

The afternoon rain hit the city so suddenly that no one had time to react. Bach Duy had just finished recording a music program at a television station and was on his way back when heavy rain forced his car to pull over to avoid the long traffic jam ahead. He sent the driver home to rest early, put on a hat and mask himself, and planned to walk a short distance to find a place to shelter from the rain and drink a cup of hot coffee to warm himself.

He walked through a few streets, his feet leading the way aimlessly, until he saw a small shop with a simple wooden sign reading the words "Dome of Leaves," a trellis of green vines covering the eaves, warm yellow light shining from the foggy glass window. There was something about that scene that stopped him in his tracks, a vaguely familiar feeling that he couldn't immediately name. He pushed the door open and walked in, the small wind chime on the door softly jingling.

The restaurant was not crowded because of the rain, there were only a few people sitting scattered at the tables, attentive to their own computers or books. Bach Duy chose a small table in the innermost corner, far from the window, where the light was softest, partly because of his habit of avoiding being noticed, partly because an intuition told him to choose the most hidden place in the restaurant.

From the counter, a voice rang out, so familiar that it made Bach Duy's heart stop beating for a moment.

"What do you use?"

He looked up, and time seemed to freeze. Standing behind the counter, wiping a glass cup, was Nhieu Tang Ninh - the woman he hadn't seen in six years, the woman he thought about every night but never dared to look for, now standing right in front of him, just a small bar counter away. She seemed older than in his memories, her hair was longer now, her calm eyes mixed with a bit of fatigue from the years gone by, but it was still a face he couldn't forget, even though he tried to hide it for many years.

Tang Ninh was also stunned for a moment, the glass cup almost slipped out of her hand. She took a closer look at the customer sitting in the corner, under the mask and cap, those eyes - the eyes she had watched grow up for two years, the eyes that once looked at her with the light of an affection she never dared to reciprocate - were unmistakable.

"Bach Duy?" she blurted out, her voice so small it was barely a breath.

He took off his mask, revealing a face that had become familiar to millions of fans across the country, but right now, in front of her, he was just an eighteen-year-old boy, standing dumbfounded, not knowing what to say. "Miss Ninh," he called softly, his voice trembling uncontrollably.

The space between them, even if it was just a few steps, suddenly became heavy as if it contained six years of separation, the questions that had never been answered, and the emotions they both tried to suppress for all that time.

"I... I didn't expect to see you here," Bach Duy said, trying to keep his voice calm, even though his hand was clenched on the edge of the table.

"I didn't expect it either," Tang Ninh replied, placing the cup on the counter, clasping her hands together like an old habit when she was nervous. "You... are very famous now. I still see you on TV often."

Those words made Bach Duy both warm and aching. So she followed him, even though she had never contacted him. So during the past six years, he did not completely disappear from her life as he thought.

"Are you still well?" he asked, trying to keep the conversation at a safe level, avoiding touching old wounds that had not yet fully healed.

"I'm fine. This shop belongs to me, it's been open for nearly five years," Tang Ninh replied, her eyes avoiding looking directly at him for too long. "What do you want me to drink so I can make it for you?"

"Black coffee, no sugar, like I used to make for you in the past," Bach Duy replied, a light smile flickering across his lips despite so many emotions swirling in his heart.

Tang Ninh paused for a second at that sentence, then turned to make coffee, her hand shaking slightly as she held the coffee filter and placed it on the cup. She needed a moment to regain her composure, to remind herself that the person sitting there was no longer the eighteen-year-old boy she once protected, but a grown man, a public star, someone for whom even a small rumor about his connection to her could have unpredictable consequences for his career.

She brought the cup of coffee to his table, placed it down gently, deliberately keeping a sufficient distance in each gesture.

"Thank you," Bach Duy said, his eyes following her without leaving. "Sister Ninh, can we... talk for a moment? It's been six years."

Tang Ninh glanced around the restaurant and saw a few other customers focusing on their own work, no one paying attention to the two of them. She pulled out a chair opposite him, sat down, but still kept a certain distance, placing her hands neatly on the table.

"Okay. But I only have a few minutes, the shop still needs someone to look after it," she said, trying to keep her voice serious even though her heart was churning.

"Do you… ever regret the decision you made that year?" Bach Duy asked directly, the question he had been carrying for six years was finally uttered.

Tang Ninh was silent for a long time, her eyes looking down at the steaming cup of coffee between them. "I don't regret protecting you," she replied, choosing her words carefully. "But I regret the way I did it. I was too cruel to you, even though that was never my intention."

"You don't need to explain," Bach Duy said, his voice softening. "I just want to know that everything that happened back then wasn't because I did anything wrong."

"You've never been wrong, Bach Duy," Tang Ninh said, the first time in six years she dared to look him straight in the eyes. "The wrong person, if there is one, is just the situation, and maybe... you too."

The conversation was interrupted when another guest called Tang Ninh to order. She stood up, nodded slightly to greet him, then returned to her work, leaving Bach Duy sitting alone with a cup of coffee that had cooled down, his mind full of thoughts. He watched her figure moving between tables, serving customers with her familiar calm smile, and realized that, even though six years had passed, even though he had become a completely different person, the feeling in his heart for that woman was still as intact as the day he was eighteen years old, standing in front of the birthday candles, realizing a truth that he could not deny.

Before leaving the table to continue working, Tang Ninh stopped for a second, her eyes glanced at Bach Duy's small guitar bag placed next to the foot of the table - a travel guitar he still carries in case he wants to write music in his free time. She immediately realized that it was not the old guitar, but the way he kept it carefully, always in sight, made her understand that his passion for music had never faded, perhaps only growing stronger over the years.

"Are you still writing music?" she asked, her voice softer, like a probing question to prolong this rare few seconds of conversation.

"Still," Bach Duy replied, his eyes shining. "Most of the songs in my latest album were written by myself. Maybe... you should listen to it once."

"I heard," Tang Ninh admitted, a little embarrassed. "Every song feels strangely familiar to me, even though I don't know why."

Bach Duy remained silent, not telling the truth that most of those melodies were written from memories of her, of the old house, of the evenings when she sat and listened to him sing on the stairs. He was afraid that if he told her, she would step back and erect a wall of separation like she did six years ago.

The customer ordered again, his voice somewhat impatient, forcing Tang Ninh to stand up, softly apologize and then return to the bar. Bach Duy sat back for a while, watching her work from afar. His heart was both relieved to finally see her again and heavy because he realized the distance between them was still too big to be erased in a short rainy afternoon.

He left the shop when the rain stopped, but before walking out the door, he looked back once and saw Tang Ninh secretly looking after him. Their eyes met for a brief moment before they both hurriedly turned away, as if afraid that if they looked at each other for a second longer, everything they had tried to suppress for six years would burst out of control.

On the way home, Bach Duy sat in the car, looking out the foggy window, his heart confused between unexpected joy and vague fear. He knew he had just found an important piece that had been missing for six years, but he also knew that just a short meeting in the afternoon rain would not be enough to mend everything that had been broken. However, a silent determination began to form in his heart from that moment — he would not let fate only give him one chance to meet again and then take it away forever.