Chapter 1 — There's No More Room For You

I have a habit. Whenever I go to the theater, eat hot pot, or sit on the subway late at night, I always leave an empty seat next to me. Waiting for the day when an excited Tham Do Chu suddenly appeared in my city, giving me what is called "unexpected joy". He has said many times that when the project in hand is finished, he will fly to visit me. In a long distance relationship for four years, I've heard that sentence 47 times. And every time I believe it. So when I received his phone call in the hospital hallway and heard him say he had to work overtime again this week, I had to hold the phone between my shoulder and ear, leaving my hands free to sign the hospital bill.
"It's OK." I put the paper into the cashier's box, "Just keep busy."
Hang up the phone, the nurse pushes the wheelchair over and tells me to sit on it. She looked at the empty hallway and asked where my family was. I said I'm on my way. On the surgery commitment form, in the family signature section, I filled in my own name. Ectopic pregnancy. If I'm even an hour late, abdominal bleeding could take my life. Coming out of the operating room, the anesthetic had not yet completely worn off, I absent-mindedly touched my phone. The screen lit up, signaling a new message. Not by Tham Do Chu. It's a Wechat post from my cousin - Chu Au Vi. The accompanying photo is of a man's hand, long and clean, holding a glass cup of water with a straw inserted. The background of the photo is a white hospital bed sheet. The status line read: *The surgery went smoothly, luckily someone flew in overnight from Shanghai to stay by my side.* On the side of the ring finger of that hand there was an old, faint scar. It's a scar from Tham Do Chu climbing a tree and falling when he was 6 years old. Even if I close my eyes I can see it. I suddenly felt a pain in my stomach. No pain at the incision. But the place that had been empty for so long had finally been brutally punctured by something. It was dark outside. I rang the bell to call the nurse, saying the wound hurt too much. The nurse came in and gave me a pain-relieving injection. She stood next to the bed, hesitated for a moment and then said: "My friend just called, the bell rang for too long so we answered the phone for him, he said he'll be here soon." I asked who. The nurse looked at the phone: "Luu's name is Tham Do Chu, he said he just took a flight from Shanghai." I said nothing. Half an hour later, the hospital door opened. Tham Do Chu was wearing a gray overcoat, carrying a plastic bag from a convenience store, inside was a bottle of mineral water and a bag of bread and pillows. Seeing my appearance on the bed, he frowned.
"Why did this happen? Chu Au Vi said she had a stomachache, I took her to the emergency room, why are you also hospitalized?"
He placed the plastic bag on the bedside table. Unsteadily placed, the mineral water bottle rolled down and landed on my slippers. He didn't pick it up. I stared at the water bottle on the ground. Chu Au Vi had a stomach ache, so he flew 1,200 km back that night. I had abdominal bleeding, he told me on the phone that I had to work overtime this week.
“What do you mean by stomach pain?” He sat down, took out his phone and started processing messages, "Is it serious?"
“Ectopic pregnancy.”
His finger paused on the screen. The air freezes in three seconds. He placed the phone on his lap and looked straight into my eyes for the first time.
“When did it happen?”
"This afternoon."
“Why didn't you say it sooner?”
“Told you.” I looked up at the ceiling, "You said you were going out to eat with guests, tell me not to do anything
Also choose when I'm busy to call."
He opened his mouth, his throat sliding up and down a few times. In the end, I could only say one sentence.
“Isn't it okay now?”
Not “I'm sorry”. Not “I should have left sooner.” It's "Isn't it okay now?" Like as long as I'm not dead, your absence doesn't count as a mistake. I closed my eyes.
“You go home. Isn't Chu Au Vi also in the hospital? It's not convenient for you to stay here."
Tham Do Chu frowned: "There's a nurse on her side, there's no one on my side."
“There's no one with me either.”
“Aren't you human?”
I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was wearing a coat that I had saved up for three months' salary to buy as a gift. The watch in his hand was an old watch my mother left me that had been modified into a men's style, with a thin crack on the glass. From top to bottom, your body is full of my marks. But you don't belong to me.
“Tham Do Chu,” my voice was very light, “Did you fly back here because of me?”
He was stunned.
"Au Vi called and said you weren't in a good condition. He told me that I had to go home and see."
Chu Au Vi called to tell him to come home. So your plane ticket was booked by Chu Au Vi, the reason was to visit me. He flew back at Chu Au Vi's request. Taking Chu Au Vi to the emergency room was convenient, and coming to visit me was a task assigned by Chu Au Vi. I laughed sarcastically.
“Thank her.”
Tham Do Chu heard the hidden meaning in my voice and his face darkened: "What are you doing again?"
"Nothing." I turned my head to look out the window, "Go ahead."
“Trinh Yeu, can you please not be like this every time we meet?”
“How?”
“Cool sarcasm. Au Vi is my cousin, so what's the problem if she's in the hospital if you help take care of her? She's all alone here with no relatives, so I'm no stranger."
I turned to look straight into his face. He has a very determined face, high eyebrow bones, straight nose bridge, slightly thin lips. When angry, his chin will tighten slightly, looking extremely serious. In the past, I really liked his serious look. Now I realize that your seriousness was never meant for me.
“Her relative is me. Tham Do Chu," I said clearly, "So where are your relatives?"
He didn't answer. The phone vibrated again. He bent down to look, his face changed.
“Au Vi called me over to get the test results. I went there before. You rest well, I'll come visit you tomorrow."
He picked up the water bottle on the nightstand, stood up and walked out the door.
“Tham Do Chu.”
He turned his head. I looked at the bag of bread falling on the ground.
“There's no need to come anymore.”
He looked at me for about two seconds, said nothing, pushed the door and walked out. His footsteps echoed in the hallway, quickly disappearing toward the elevator. I rang the bell to call the nurse, asking them to help me throw away the bag of bread. The nurse said she was so sorry, she hadn't even peeled off the plastic yet. I said, it's expired. On the third day of her hospital stay, Chu Au Vi posted a photo on Wechat. She leaned back against the hospital bed, holding a steaming bowl of wontons in her hand, smiling gently and harmlessly at the camera. The caption reads: *The most delicious food in the world is a small bowl of wontons that Do Chu walked three streets to buy.* Below are all comments from mutual friends between her and Tham Do Chu.
“Boss Tham personally went to buy it? It's so sweet.”
“You two are the last
What kind of relationship is this? Please make it public."
“Mr. Do Chu knows how to take care of others.”
Chu Au Vi replied with a shy emoji. I recognized that bowl of wontons. Thin shell, small filling, simmered broth from seaweed and dried shrimp. It's Mr. Trieu's wonton shop at the beginning of Thanh Nguyen alley. In my third year of college, I took Tham Do Chu out to eat. He complained that the alley was so narrow that cars couldn't get in, so I had to drag him to walk for 15 minutes. He complimented it. Also ask me for the address and save it in my phone notes. After that, every time I asked for food, he said it was too far and called for delivery.