Chapter 14 — The White Coat Oath

One rare weekend morning when they both had a day off, Khoa invited Yen to visit her hometown - a small coastal town more than three hours away from the city. This was the first time he had the opportunity to visit the place where Yen grew up, a place that contained both painful memories and the motivation that shaped the person she is today.

The car stopped in front of a small house by the sea, the lime walls had faded over the years but still maintained a neat and cozy look, with a small yard planted with a few flower pots in full bloom in front of the door. Yen's mother, a small woman with a small figure but eyes that exuded resilience, was waiting in front of the gate.

"Mom, I'm home," Yen called out, running to hug her mother in the joy of reunion.

"I'm glad you're back," Yen's mother replied, her voice warm, her hand still not leaving her daughter's shoulder as if she was afraid she would quickly leave. Her eyes then turned to Khoa, searching but no less friendly. "This must be Khoa, the son of Dr. Truong that you often talk about, right?"

"Yes, hello," Khoa bowed his head politely, holding a small gift he had prepared in advance. "I've heard Yen talk a lot about you. I only had the chance to meet you in person today."

The lunch was simple but full of love, with the hometown dishes that Yen always misses when she is away from home - sour sea fish soup, fried shrimp, and a plate of fragrant stir-fried water spinach with garlic. Yen's mother asked Khoa about everything, from work to family, her eyes gradually became warmer when she realized the sincerity in each of the young man's answers.

"Try this sour soup," Yen's mother added fish to Khoa's bowl, "this is Yen's favorite dish since childhood, every time she comes home she asks her mother to cook it right away."

"Yes, it's delicious," Khoa replied, tasted it and couldn't hide his surprise at the rich flavor, different from the sophisticated dishes he was familiar with. "I have never eaten sour soup as delicious as this."

"Then you have to come here to eat more often," Yen's mother smiled, her eyes full of meaning, making Yen blush.

"Mom!" Yen exclaimed, both embarrassed and unable to hold back her smile. "Mom, don't make Khoa shy."

"You're telling the truth," Yen's mother replied, her voice becoming more serious. "Looking at the way you take care of and care for Yen, I feel somewhat reassured. My daughter has had to be very independent since she was young, rarely letting anyone really take care of her."

"I will always try to take good care of Yen, sir," Khoa replied, his voice sincere without any hesitation, his eyes looking straight at Yen's mother to let her clearly see the seriousness of that promise.

After the meal, Yen's mother pulled Khoa to a separate corner while Yen was busy washing dishes, her eyes full of seriousness. "I only have one thing to tell you. Although my daughter is strong and decisive on the outside, on the inside she is very vulnerable, especially when it comes to her father's affairs. I hope you will always be patient and understanding for her."

"I understand," Khoa nodded, his voice serious. "I promise to always cherish and protect Yen as much as possible."

After the meal, Yen took Khoa to the beach, where she often went when she needed to find peace in her soul, her bare feet lightly stepping on the smooth sand still warm from the afternoon sun. The cool sea breeze blew, carrying with it the familiar salty smell of her childhood.

"This is where my father often took me out to play every afternoon, before he went to sea," Yen said, her voice low and full of nostalgia, her eyes looking far out to the horizon where the sea and sky met. "He always said, the ocean can both give us life and take it all away in the blink of an eye."

Khoa remained silent, holding her hand tightly, allowing her to freely share memories that she had probably never fully told anyone, just standing quietly beside her as a strong fulcrum amidst the wave of emotions rolling in her heart.

"The day my dad passed away," Yen continued, her voice choking, "I stood right here, watching the boat that took him to the emergency room, praying with everything I had. But the miracle didn't come in time."

"I'm so sorry for what you had to go through," Khoa said softly, hugging her, feeling her trembling breaths close to his chest. "But I believe, your father is certainly very proud to see that his daughter has become someone who can save the lives of so many others, not letting them have to endure the desperate wait like he did."

Yen put her head on Khoa's shoulder, the tears she had held back for so many years finally fell, but this time they were not completely tears of sadness, but also mixed with a sense of relief and liberation after finally being able to fully share that pain with the person she loved.

"For many years," Yen continued, her voice still choked, "I always tried to act strong in front of my mother, afraid that if I was weak, she would be even more heartbroken. But in reality, in my heart I always carried a vague fear, afraid that I would again have to witness someone I love die because of delays and shortcomings of the medical system."

"Is that why you always act decisively, sometimes to the point of recklessness, at work?" Khoa asked, his voice gentle, wanting to understand more thoroughly the deep motivations in the heart of the person he loved.

"That's right," Yen nodded, gently wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks. "I fear delays more than anything else. But through working with you, I've also learned that, sometimes, your caution is just as important — as long as we know the balance between speed and precision."

"We complement each other in a perfect way," Khoa said, smiling, gently kissing the top of her head. "Maybe that's why fate arranged for us to meet during that controversial shift."

“Thank you,” she whispered, “for listening, for understanding, and for giving me the opportunity to be vulnerable without fear of judgment.”

"You don't need to thank me for that," Khoa replied, lightly kissing her forehead. "This is what a true partner should do — share both joy and pain together."

The word "partner" came out naturally, without any intention, causing both of them to pause for a moment, realizing the profound meaning behind those unintentional words.

"You just said..." Yen looked up at Khoa, her heart beating faster.

"I'm telling the truth," Khoa replied, his eyes firmly looking straight into her eyes, his voice not shaking even though his heart was pounding in his chest. "Yen, I know it's probably a little early to say this, but I want you to know, I'm serious about our relationship, and I look forward to a long future with you."

Yen smiled, tears still on her cheeks but now they were completely happy tears. "Me too, Khoa. I never thought I could trust someone so completely, until I met you. From a fierce argument on my first shift, I never imagined it would lead to this moment, right here, on the shore of my hometown."

The two of them stood there, hugging each other amid the sound of the sea waves, the sunset dyed the sky orange in the distance, marking a moment of deeper connection than ever between two souls who had gone through many challenges to get together.

Before it got completely dark, the two walked along the beach, Yen showed Khoa the places associated with her childhood - the small fishing wharf where her father used to moor his boat every afternoon, the old elementary school where she used to study, and the small roadside shop where she often sat to do homework after school.

"You know," Yen said, leading Khoa to a small cliff jutting out into the sea, "this is where I often sit when I need to think about important decisions in life. Even the decision to enter medical school."

"So today, I'm standing in a very special place in your life," Khoa said, smiling, sitting down next to her on a stone slab still warm from the afternoon sun.

"That's right," Yen nodded, resting her head on Khoa's shoulder. "And I want you to be the first person I share this place with, besides myself and my father's memory."

Khoa squeezed her hand, clearly feeling the great honor of being trusted by her to share the most private corners of his soul. "Thank you for trusting me so much, Yen. I will always cherish this moment."

The sunset gradually falls, dyeing both the sky and the sea into a brilliant orange strip, like a beautiful testimony to the increasingly strong love between two people, built on the foundation of the most complete understanding, trust and sharing.