Chapter 2 — There's No More Room For You

Chu Au Vi was in the hospital. He walked three streets to buy what he could. I put down my phone, took a screenshot of that post, and saved it in a password-protected folder. That folder is called “Sober.” It has saved a lot of screenshots. Last New Year's Eve, Chu Au Vi posted a photo of the New Year's Eve party, with the caption *This year, someone is celebrating the New Year with me.* In the corner of the photo is a man's hand, the old scar on the ring finger is more than half hidden by a glass of wine, but I recognize the watch. That day, Tham Do Chu told me that the company was holding a year-end party and the whole department was working overtime. On my birthday last year, Chu Au Vi posted a photo of a bunch of white roses, the card read *To the most special person - S.* Tham Do Chu's last name is Tham, the first letter is S. That day he told me that the birthday gift would be made up for later, then completely forgot about it. I scrolled through each photo one by one, scrolling to the end, the date on the screen was four years ago. That was the month that started my long-distance relationship with Tham Do Chu. It turned out that right from the start, the empty spot next to me wasn't because he couldn't come. But he didn't want to come at all. Every excuse "too busy", every saying "next time", every reproach "don't be so ignorant", is all because he spent his time and attention on others. And that person, is my cousin. She is my mother's sister's daughter. She is the niece who has been loved by my whole family since she was a child. I placed the phone face down on the nightstand and closed my eyes. The incision still hurts, but it's not as painful as the pain elsewhere. That place used to be called "Expectation". Now called "Province". On discharge from the hospital, I did the procedure myself. As I pulled my suitcase out of the hospital gate, the early winter wind hit my face and felt a bit burning. The phone vibrated once. Message from Tham Do Chu.
"Trinh Yeu, I can't come pick you up from the hospital today. Au Vi said she craves crayfish, I'll take her to satisfy her cravings. Please call a car home yourself, pay attention to safety."
I looked at the clock. Two o'clock in the afternoon. Which crayfish restaurant is open at two o'clock in the afternoon? I don't rap. Click on his avatar, then click on Chu Au Vi's avatar. Ten minutes ago she just released a locator. Not just any lobster restaurant. It is a wedding dress shop on Lam Giang street. Along with the caption: *Going to try on wedding dresses with my best friend, the whole room full of white dresses makes me cry, I don't know when my significant other will appear.* I stared at that locator, my thumb frozen on the screen for a long time. Then I made a decision. I hailed a taxi, read the address. Half an hour later, I stood outside the glass window of the wedding dress shop. Inside the bright torchlight, the fishtail wedding dress sparkled under the spotlight. Chu Au Vi is standing in front of the ground-level mirror, wearing a flowing princess-style wedding dress, twirling in front of the mirror. Tham Do Chu sat on the sofa right next to him. Hand holding a cup of coffee. The coat you're wearing is exactly the same as the one I gave you. His eyes looking at Chu Au Vi were gentleness that I had never seen. It's like looking at a newly found treasure. Through the mirror, Chu Au Vi saw me standing outside the window. Her movements paused, then smiled. It was a very faint smile. It only stopped on the corner of my lips for two seconds, but enough for me to clearly see its meaning. Her mouth was dry
He made a sound, but turned towards me in the mirror and spoke softly.
“You lost.”
I stood in the cold wind and suddenly felt my fingertips go numb. Not out of anger. It's because of nausea. This person, on the third day I was in the hospital, posted on Wechat saying *Hope Yeu Yeu recovers soon*. On the second day after my ectopic pregnancy surgery, posted *So sad I couldn't sleep*.