Chapter 5 — The Light Outside The Door

“Miss Tham, someone sent you breakfast.” On the bedside table, another thermos bag appeared. Opened - millet porridge, pumpkin dumplings, a plate of okra mixed with light sauce. It's all a stomach tonic. No card, no message. The logo of a nutritional porridge shop that I am very familiar with is printed on the bag. That restaurant is in the old town, only opening at 5 am. From your house to that porridge shop, then to this hospital... What time did you leave? I looked at the bowl of porridge in a daze. Then he picked up his phone and sent a text message to Khuong Nhiem: "Did you send me something this morning?" Three seconds later, there was a text message back: "? I'm still on business in Shanghai, what?" I put down the phone. The porridge is still hot. I already ate. The taste was delicious, but I had no expression from start to finish. After eating, I stowed the thermos bag and put it under the bed. At 9:00 a.m., Khuong Nhiem called. "Are you hospitalized???"——Obviously, he saw my post to my friends circle last night (showing only him, a photo of an intravenous drip, with the words "Be careful with small problems"). Before I could explain, he started to vent: "Tham Nhuoc Diem, are you stupid? Hospitalized and didn't tell me! You're alone——" "It's okay." No, it's just gastritis, I'll be discharged after two days of intravenous fluids." "I'm flying back today, I'll come tomorrow." "There's really no need——" "Shut up." He hung up. I sighed. 2 p.m. The second "attack" comes. The nurse was holding a bouquet of flowers—not the ostentatious roses, but a bouquet of white lisianthus flowers mixed with a little pink, elegant and elegant. There is also a ceramic hot pack that looks very ugly, but when fully charged the battery can last for 4 hours. There's also no card. But I smell a faint cedarwood scent from the flower wrapper. I have arrived. But do not enter the hospital room. I put the flowers in a vase and placed them on the windowsill. Plug in the charger for the hot water bag. Then continue to look at the iPad with an expressionless expression. In my heart I understand very clearly. I'm exploring. Cautiously approaching. In a clumsy way, careful every inch. But—— It's been two years. Two years of "no barriers", two years of "each person getting what they need", two years of living together as strangers. Just a hangover makes you want to turn the page? It's not that easy. Tuesday morning. Khuong Nhiem has arrived. He aggressively rushed into the hospital room, first touched my forehead, then checked the infusion bottle, and finally his eyes fell on the bouquet of flowers on the windowsill. "Who gave this to me?" I said nothing. His pupils shrank: “Co Dien Chu?” “…That's about it.” “Damn.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, crossed his arms over his chest, looking like he wanted to kill someone: "What does he mean? Suddenly discovered a conscience?" I briefly told what happened in the hallway that night. After hearing this, Khuong Nhiem was silent for a full ten seconds. Then he said one sentence. The voice was very light, but every word was full of thorns: "Nhuoc Diem, in the past two years you've been with him, he said 'there's no such thing as regret'. You've only been gone for a month, he already can't stand it. So what are your sacrifices during those two years? Is it a free trial? You feel like it's good, so now you want to renew your subscription?" I was stunned. Then burst out laughing. Bitter smile. “I know.” “You refused?” “Refused.” “That's good.” Khuong Nhiem grabbed my hand, "You deserve to have someone who cherishes you from beginning to end. Not after you leave, only to discover there is food in the refrigerator." I nodded. I know. I understand the morality. But... His heartbeat that night, transmitted through the thin shirt, beat so fast. Are not

How can I pretend?