Chapter 1 — The Silence Between Two Loves

When Tham Tri Ngam threw the divorce agreement down in front of me, I was holding a small spoon, patiently feeding my daughter the dough. The girl's name is Niem Niem, she's only one and a half years old. His face was covered in flour. As soon as he saw his father walk in, he grinned and raised his hand to pick him up. But he... didn't look at me. Just looked down at me, his voice cold:

"Sign. You belong to me. 30 million yuan (about 105 billion VND), enough for you to leave properly."

I didn't answer. Just quietly used paper to wipe off the corners of Niem Niem's mouth covered in powder. She was so young... she didn't understand what "leaving" meant.

"Tong Van, don't delay any longer."

Finally, he glanced at me. That look... I'm so used to it. Disgusted. Lose patience. It's like looking at a wrongly purchased item... but not being able to return it.

"How you step into this house, you know best. I've been holding out for three years... that's enough."

It turns out that in his eyes, this marriage... is just an endurance. Just a mistake. Those two words... were like sharp needles, piercing straight into the softest part of my heart. That year, my father - Tong Vien Son - was the driver of the Tham family, following him for thirty years. Tham Tri Ngam's mother passed away early, the old man single-handedly raised him, and also treated my father as family. Later, the old man discovered terminal cancer. Before his death, he held my hand, his voice was much weaker:

"Van Van, Tri Ngam has a bad temper, I try to tolerate him. With me here... you can rest assured."

That's not asking for opinions. That is the last wish. Tham Tri Ngam hates me. He always thought that my father had "acted" on his deathbed, using thirty years of loyalty in exchange for a marriage contract. He looked down on the Song family, thinking that we were inferior and unworthy of being on the same banquet table... and took advantage of people's weaknesses. He was completely unaware— It was the old man who took the initiative to mention marriage. My father then immediately knelt down and refused. It was the old man who pounded the table and said that if he didn't agree... he wouldn't even close his eyes when he died. I have never said these things. Because saying it... is useless. Tham Tri Ngam only believes what he wants to believe.

“Is thirty million not enough?”

Seeing that I was silent for too long, he smiled coldly, pulled out his checkbook from his vest pocket, and opened the pen cap:

"Fill in yourself. Don't be too much, Tong Van. People... should know enough."

I looked at the pen in his hand. That pen... was given to me. On his thirtieth birthday, I used nearly half a year's salary to buy a limited edition Montblanc. That day, he just glanced at the brand, conveniently threw it into the drawer, and said one sentence:

“Don't waste your time like that. I don't appreciate it.”

He used that same pen again... to write me a check.

“Nien Niem cannot follow you.”

Tham Tri Ngam's eyes immediately turned cold:

“You have no choice.”

“I am her mother.”

“You are the daughter of Tong Vien Son.”

He stood up, looked at me from above, his voice was calm and cruel:

"Do you think the court will give the child to someone who hasn't graduated from high school, doesn't have a job, and depends on her husband's family? Tong Van, wake up."

Every sentence, every word cuts like a knife. But he spoke lightly... as if reading a contract. Niem Niem stirred in my arms, her small hand grabbed my collar, her young voice called out: I'm not crying. Over the past three years, the most important thing I've learned is is— In front of Tham Tri Ngam... absolutely do not cry. The first time was the wedding night. He drank a lot, stood outside the wedding room door, looked at me, and said:

"I won't touch you. Don't think about using your children to tie me down."

That night, I sat alone on the wedding bed, crying until three in the morning. The next day, I put away my tears. Not because it's strong. But because I realized... crying is useless. Tam Tri Ngam paused, perhaps not expecting me to agree so decisively. I put Niem Niem in the crib next to me, picked up the Montblanc pen, and signed my name on the last page. Hands shaking a bit. But each stroke... is still written very clearly.

“But I have one condition.”

I put down my pen.

"Before the age of three, Niem Niem lived with me. After the age of three, if you still want it, I will give it back to you."

“Based on what?”

“Based on the fact that the baby is still breastfeeding.”

I raised my head to look at him.

"You can ask a lawyer. Most children during this period will be given to their mothers. No matter how good the Tham family's lawyer is... they can't change the law."

Tham Tri Ngam narrowed his eyes and reassessed me. In those eyes... a flash of surprise flashed. Perhaps he didn't expect— The woman who had bowed her head for three years… would know the conditions.

“Are you threatening me?”

“I'm negotiating.”

"Three years. After three years, I will take the initiative to bring my child back. During that time, you can visit anytime, I won't stop you."

He was silent for a long time. The light from the window poured in, lengthening his shadow... covering the cradle. Niem Niem turned over in her sleep, revealing her small round belly, sleeping soundly without knowing anything. He finally spoke.

“Three years. But remember clearly—”

He bent down, leaned close to me, his voice lowered:

“After three years, if you dare to play tricks... I will make your father unable to even work as a doorman.”

The door closed. I heard Niem Niem turn over in the crib, her little hand holding the cloth rabbit's ear, muttering: I buried my face in my palm. Shoulders trembled... for a long time. The day I moved, I only brought a suitcase... and a baby bag. Tham Tri Ngam did not appear. The person who came to check in was his assistant. He gave me a bank card:

"The general said, there is 5,000,000 yuan (about 17.5 billion VND) in here, considered as three years' living expenses. After the expiration date, the remaining 25,000,000 yuan (about 87.5 billion VND) will be transferred to your account."

“No need.”

I pushed the card back.

“Thirty million in the deal… three years later.”

“These three years—”

“I don't need his money.”

Assistant Tran hesitated a bit:

"Miss Tong, Mr. Tham's personality... you already know it. If you don't admit it, he will think you are deliberately opposing—"

“I don't object.”

I zipped up the suitcase.

"It's just that I don't want to use his money. Tell him, these three years I will raise Niem Niem myself. Three years later, I will fulfill the agreement and bring the child home."

Assistant Tran looked at me, as if he wanted to say something, then stopped. In the Tham family, he is probably the only person who still maintains some civility towards me. But… it's just polite.

“Miss Tong, can I ask a question? Where are you going?”

He paused, as if he wanted to say something more, and finally just quietly opened the door for me. I carried Niem Niem, pulled my suitcase and entered the elevator. Niem Niem lay on my shoulder, looking curiously at the end of the hallway—the door is always closed. That is Tham Tri Ngam's office, where he stays the longest every day. She probably thought her father was behind that door, her small hand stretched out, gently reaching towards it.

“Nim Niem good.”

I patted my child's back.

“Mom, please take me home to see my grandmother.”

The elevator door closed. I took one last look at the hallway. The marble floor is so shiny that people's shadows can be seen, and on the walls are hung Tham Tri Ngam's collected paintings—each painting... enough to last me for a decade. Those things— From beginning to end… never belonged to me. Upon arriving at the district, my mother went to the bus station to pick me up. She has aged a lot. Since the incident with my father, overnight... her hair turned white. My father, Tong Vien Son, has been driving for the Tham family for thirty years, never having had an accident. Yet three months after retiring— He was hit by a truck that ran a red light right in front of the market gate. Leave on the spot. Tham Tri Ngam did not attend the funeral. He instructed assistant Tran to bring a wreath of flowers... and a sum of money to pay his respects. The couplet on the wreath was written by assistant Tran. Money... I returned it. My mother doesn't know I'm divorced. I talk about staying for a while, she believes.