Chapter 8 — Ten Years of Love, His Proposal Was Just a Bet

“Luong Thuat.” He showed the screen to his wife, "If you drink to this level, I'm afraid something will happen."

His wife glanced over: "That girl left?" Ta Thua Quan was a little surprised: "How do you know?"

“You men don't understand, but I do,” his wife replied. “The person who can make him become like that, there is only one person.”

Ta Thua Quan changed clothes and went out the door. By the time they arrived at Trung Vien, the party was reaching its climax. Luong Thuat was being held on both sides, still holding a glass of wine, with an expression on his face that he had never seen before - not drunk, not angry, but an emptiness, confusion, and utter confusion.

“Okay okay, dismissed.” Ta Thua Quan pushed the crowd away and snatched the glass of wine from Luong Thuat's hand. “You've had enough to drink.”

“Thua Quan?” Luong Thuat squinted at you, slurring his words, "You're coming too, let's have a drink."

“Drink with grilled pork.” Ta Thua Quan held his friend's shoulder tightly, turned to tell the rest: "Everyone go home, just come here today."

Tong Y stood up and was about to say something, but Ta Thua Quan glared at her, causing her to swallow her words back. He really didn't like Tong Y. When everyone left, there was only a messy battlefield left in the living room and Luong Thuat was leaning his head against the sofa with his eyes closed. Ta Thua Quan ordered someone to cook soup to relieve hangovers. When he brought it out, Luong Thuat almost fell asleep.

"Wake up. After drinking, go to sleep."

Luong Thuat did not move. Ta Thua Quan sat down next to him, put the bowl of soup on the tea table, and was silent for a while.

“Luong Thuat,” he said, “I'll tell you a story.”

Luong Thuat did not respond, but he also did not sleep. His eyelashes moved slightly, showing that he was listening.

“I used to know a girl before,” Ta Thua Quan's voice was very light, “She really liked me.”

He paused for a moment, seemingly arranging his words, as if reminiscing about a very distant past:

“She treats me so well, so well that I take it for granted.”

"Whatever she wanted to eat, I told her to go buy it herself. She was sick, I told her to drink lots of warm water. She texted me, I read it, but it wasn't important so I didn't bother to reply."

“I thought she would never leave.”

"Every time I say 'next time it won't be like that again', but next time it's still the same. She was angry, I just coaxed her a few words, but if she couldn't coax me, I left her alone. Anyway, after a few days her anger was gone."

Luong Thuat's eyebrows twitched slightly.

“One day later, she really left.” Ta Thua Quan said. “Moved house, changed phone number, blocked all my contact methods.”

"At that time I thought, it's okay, she will definitely come back. She likes me so much, how could she really go away."

“Then I heard that she was getting married.”

Luong Thuat opened his eyes, his eyes were a bit dull, not knowing if it was because he was drunk or because of some other reason.

“I don't believe it, I'll go find her.” Ta Thua Quan's voice gradually became smaller.

"I found it, she's really married. Furthermore—the way she looked at that man was completely different from the way she used to look at me. Before, she always looked at me with a bit of caution, as if she was begging me to look at her one more time. But when she looked at that man, she smiled, a very reassuring, very steady smile."

“I begged her to come back, I said I knew I was sorry Okay, I will definitely fix it later, you tell me to do anything."

“She replied: It's late.”

Ta Thua Quan stopped talking here for a long time. The heat from the bowl of hangover soup had dissipated, he picked it up and put it down again.

“Luong Thuat, I don't tell you these things to make you uncomfortable.” He patted Luong Thuat's shoulder. “I want to say, don't let yourself regret it. That girl Pho Chi Ha is really very good, you are also different from her, you know best."

"Don't lose the person you should hold on to because of some dignity or some pride."

"There are some things, a miss is a miss. No matter how much money you spend or how much work you do, you can't make up for it."

Luong Thuat did not speak. He just sat on the sofa like that, closing his eyes, as if he had fallen asleep. Ta Thua Quan looked at his friend for a moment, then stood up, pushed the bowl of soup close to his hand, turned and walked away. The moment the door closed, Luong Thuat's fingers moved slightly. He groped and touched the phone. The screen lit up, displaying Pho Chi Ha's WeChat avatar. His thumb hovered over the chat frame, pausing for a long time. New to Melbourne, I followed a regular routine: going to class, participating in training, adapting to the pace of life in this city. The sunlight in the Southern Hemisphere is stronger than I expected, and the air always smells faintly of eucalyptus. The first days were really difficult. That pain is a dull, persistent feeling, like a constantly rising tide. When I make coffee in the morning, I will habitually make two cups, then just stare blankly at the leftover cup. Before sleeping, I would scroll through my phone and unconsciously check to see if there were any messages from him, only to realize that I had deleted all contact methods. But I'm learning to get used to it. The schedule at the training center is very tight, and the airline management program covers every aspect from flight planning to crisis management. Every day I sit in class, take notes, draw mind maps, and have group discussions with classmates from different countries. No one knows about my past. Day after day, until one afternoon, I sat on the balcony of the training center, holding a cup of coffee, looking far away at Melbourne's skyline, suddenly thinking of a question: What if the training course ends? Return to that city, return to the place where Luong Thuat, Tong Y, and countless eyes are waiting to see my joke. Then what? Continue to work as a senior manager of the airline, go to work, get off work, socialize, work overtime according to a pre-planned route, and in the dead of night return to an empty house, living with those broken memories? That afternoon, I sat on the balcony for two hours.