Chapter 6 — The Divorce ATM

Mother, I looked at her. Do not rush. Listen first. Hear everything, then speak.

Phuong Vien opened her briefcase and withdrew the first document. Before I begin, I need to address one matter. She glanced at her phone. At nine-thirty this morning, Chau Dien went to the Hai Dien District Real Estate Trading Center.

Chau Dien’s entire body stiffened.

He carried the property deed for Apartment 1802, Building 7, Thuy Dinh Garden. He attempted to initiate an emergency transfer of ownership. The recipient was named as Tham Dao.

My sister-in-law whipped her head around to stare at him. Chau Dien’s lips trembled, but no words escaped him.

However, the transfer could not be executed, Phuong Vien continued. Yesterday, an asset preservation order was issued. Both of your properties have been frozen.

She slid the legal seizure order across the coffee table.

After he learned that Co Niem wanted a divorce, his first instinct was not to offer an apology. His priority was to transfer the deed to another woman.

Silence descended upon the living room. The conciliatory mask worn by his aunt crumbled. She shot a look at Chau Dien, then retreated into staring at the floor. Phuong Vien retrieved her phone.

Before we officially proceed, I would like to show everyone a video.

She pressed play. It was the footage Trieu Nguyet had recorded at the airport, right at the check-in counter. It showed Chau Dien and Tham Dao. The airline employee was shaking her head. Tham Dao’s voice, now crystal clear through the recording, echoed in the room:

Didn’t you say you two had been separated for a long time? Then why is the ticket booked in her name?

The video ended. No one in the living room dared to speak. My mother-in-law’s mouth hung slightly agape. My sister-in-law remained locked on Chau Dien. His aunt studied the floorboards. Chau Dien kept his head bowed. I stood up and picked up the folder from the coffee table.

Now, we settle the accounts.

I opened the folder. The first page contained the airline’s ticket modification history. Operator: Chau Dien. Change details: Replaced passenger name from Co Niem to Tham Dao.

I pushed the paper toward the center of the table. No one reached for it. The second page was a bank statement.

Three years. Month by month. Item by item. A fixed transfer of five thousand yuan every single month. Not including the larger, one-off payments. The total: two hundred and eighty-one thousand, four hundred yuan. Recipient: Tham Dao.

I flipped through the pages I had highlighted in neon yellow. Every single transaction laid bare. Five thousand, five thousand, five thousand. Twenty thousand. Thirty thousand. Fifty-eight thousand. I stopped at a specific entry. Note: Pregnancy check-up. Date: March 19th of last year.

I looked directly at Chau Dien. On March 16th of last year, I suffered a miscarriage.

He said nothing.

March 19th. Three days after I lost our child.

He said nothing.

We were at the same hospital. I was on the fifth floor, in the surgical ward. His eyes darted away, refusing to meet mine.

On that same day, on the third floor, in the Obstetrics and Gynecology department, Tham Dao’s pregnancy records were being processed. The person who paid the fees was Chau Dien. The time of payment was 2:40 PM. My surgery began at 2:00 PM.

You told me you were going to park the car. You were gone for fifty minutes. You didn't go to the parking lot. You went to the third floor. You accompanied Tham Dao to listen to our child’s—no, to listen to her baby’s heartbeat. You came back and brought me porridge, smiling at me. Drink more, you had said. That was you.

The living room fell into a suffocating silence, broken only by the hum of the air conditioner. His aunt’s hands, resting on her knees, began to shake. His sister looked at the floor; his cousin stared out the window. My mother-in-law stared at her own trembling hands. Chau Dien remained hunched over.

It isn't over yet.

I produced screenshots from a group chat. The group name: Our Family. Members: Chau Dien, Tham Dao, and Chau’s mother. My mother-in-law shifted uneasily. I turned to a specific page and read aloud:

Mother-in-law: She arrives home at seven; you must leave before six.

My mother-in-law’s mouth twitched uncontrollably.

Mother-in-law: Niem has miscarried, so keep a low profile; don't run over to her place.

My sister-in-law lifted her head.

Chau Dien: I want to be clear with Dao, we cannot go on like this anymore.

I glanced at Chau Dien. His hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists.

Mother-in-law: Are you losing your mind? Co Niem is just a placeholder.

I placed that page on the table. Placeholder. I looked at my mother-in-law. You called me a placeholder.

My mother-in-law’s lips quivered. That... that wasn't what I meant...

Then what did you mean?

She could not answer.

There is one more thing.

I flipped to the final page. Tham Dao said, her tone utterly detached, "An ATM is certainly convenient, isn't it?"

I looked at Chau Dien. She called me an ATM. You replied with a smiley face emoji. You did not deny it.

Chau Dien’s face turned ash-grey. All the blood seemed to drain from his skin. He parted his lips. I... it was just a joke...

A joke. I nodded. Airline tickets for seventy-six thousand. Bank transfers of two hundred and eighty thousand. A four hundred and fifty thousand yuan deposit. That is an expensive joke.

My sister-in-law stood up. Dien, you have gone too far.

My mother-in-law panicked. This is only hearing one side of the story...

Mother, my sister-in-law turned to her. Can you deny the group chat?

My mother-in-law opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. "Co Niem is just a placeholder." You said that. Can you deny it?

She fell silent. In that moment, Chau Dien did something unexpected. He pulled a stack of documents from his pocket, folded them in half, opened them, and placed them on the table.