Chapter 1 — The day I signed the divorce petition, I won the bid for a 30 billion VND project

The Day I Signed the Divorce Petition, I Won the Bid for a 30 Billion VND Project Luc Tu Hanh pushed the divorce agreement in front of me, he didn't even bother to give me a glance. His hands were long, slender, cold white, and his knuckles lightly tapped twice on the table, as if he were signing a contract that was not worth worrying about. The agreement is more than a dozen pages thick, each page is pre-glued with blue sticky notes, immediately marking the position that needs to be signed. Everything was neat, just by looking at it, you could tell that his assistant had prepared it in advance. His voice was indifferent.

"Khuong Niem is back."

I stared at those three words and suddenly burst out laughing. Not because that statement was too gentle. It's because... He really thought I would make a fuss. After three years of marriage, he always kept Khuong Niem's photo in a locked cabinet in his office. Her number is still saved in the phone. Every year on Khuong Niem's birthday, he would go to the rooftop and sit all night, drinking until he was drunk before returning. I know all those things. And also be patient. He thought I didn't know, or thought I didn't care at all. Actually I know everything. Also pay attention to everything. It's just that the way I pay attention has never been to cry or argue. I just sat quietly in the living room waiting for him to return. Waiting for him to bring the cold air of the night and the strong smell of alcohol with the name Khuong Niem, he staggered open the bedroom door and fell on the bed, fast asleep. I poured him water. Take off his shoes. Carefully cover him with a blanket. As for me, I just lay in the dark, eyes wide open, waiting for the morning light. Nights like that, over the past three years, I have experienced countless times. Yet today, he just gave me a divorce agreement and calmly said:

"Khuong Niem is back."

As if it were a matter of course. It's time for me to give way. I picked up the pen. The tip of the pen hovered above the paper, stopping for exactly one second. Maybe he thought I was hesitant. Thought I would cry. Will ask him a question: "Why?" He might even have prepared a nice explanation. For example: "We are not compatible." Or: "I'm sorry for you." But he doesn't know. For a second I stopped... Not because of hesitation. It's because I'm wondering. These three years of patience... Was it worth it in the end? The answer came very quickly. Not worth it. So I lowered my wrist. The tip of the pen touches the paper. Each neat stroke wrote down my name. Tham Nghien Thanh. Those three words were written extremely firmly. It's stronger than the day I signed the marriage certificate. On the day of marriage registration that year, my hands were shaking so much that I couldn't even hold a pen. Luc Tu Hanh once laughed and teased me:

"Tham Nghien Thanh, is that all you have?"

He still knew how to laugh then. Know how to joke. While signing, he secretly squeezed my fingertips. At that time I thought... Marriage is the beginning of everything. Only today did I understand. That was the beginning of the end.

"Tham Nghien Thanh, stop pretending."

My calmness seemed to surprise him. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his voice clearly showing impatience.

"Aren't you good at making a fuss?"

Make a fuss? Three years ago, his mother stood in front of many people and scolded me for being a country girl who only knew how to climb high. I don't make a fuss. Two years ago, Khuong Niem Send me a photo of the two of them together. On the back of the photo is written:

"Remembering never dies, it must always be enjoyed."

I also don't make a fuss. A year ago, he was drunk, hugged me and kept calling:

"Nem Niem..."

I still don't make a fuss. Perhaps in his eyes, a woman who doesn't argue, doesn't cry, doesn't mess around... Just accepts. Is without temperament. Being able to bully others at will. But he doesn't know. People who no longer want to make a fuss... Are usually people who have silently gone all the way in their hearts. To argue also requires strength. But my strength... It ran out a long time ago. I put down the pen, pushed the signed agreement towards him, then raised my head and looked straight. Today, Luc Tu Hanh wears a dark gray shirt, the collar is half open, revealing a silver chain under his collarbone. It was a gift Khuong Niem gave him before going abroad. In the past three years, he has never taken it off. Even when bathing. As for our wedding rings... He only wore them once on the wedding day. I don't know when it was thrown away.

"Signing is done."

I calmly looked at him.

"Is there anything else I need to add?"

Luc Tu Hanh paused. Maybe he didn't expect... I would be so decisive. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he just frowned slightly.

"That's it. Have you seen the terms of asset division? House, car, savings... whatever should be given to you, I've left it to you."

What should I give? I almost burst out laughing. The so-called "what should give me" is nothing more than a two-bedroom apartment in the suburbs, a five-year-old car, and enough savings for me to live on for half a year. Meanwhile, the riverside villa he bought for Khuong Niem spent 5 million yuan on furniture alone. That's what's called...

“What should be given to me.”

I didn't fight, I didn't argue, I didn't even bother to look closely at those terms one more time. Because those things... I don't need them. Three years ago, when I married into the Luc family, everyone said I climbed high. Luc's mother called me "a country girl who only knows how to cling to rich people". Luc Tu Hanh's friends call me "Cinderella". Even the maid in the house thought I was aiming for the Luc family's money. No one knows... I married him just because I love him. Love so much that I'm willing to give up my career. Be willing to endure his coldness and indifference. Willing to stubbornly stay in this marriage, even though in his heart there is always the shadow of another woman. But now... That love is gone. It doesn't disappear overnight. But little by little it is eroded. Like a rock lying under flowing water. Day after day the water was swept away. Until the end... Only a grain of sand remains. The wind just blew. Instantly disappears. The moment the tip of the pen touched the paper, the phone in my pocket suddenly vibrated. Not a call. It's email.