Chapter 9 — There's No More Room For You

Outside the ground-level glass door is the night scene of Bangkok, bright lights and the Chao Phraya River winding through the city. The apartment I rented was located in Sukhumvit, downstairs was a mango sticky rice stall open 24/7, every night the faint smell of sweet coconut milk wafted up. Next door is an English girl who teaches yoga. Every morning she goes to the balcony to practice Sun Salutation. These days are very quiet, quiet like a cold glass of filtered water. But every drop of its water is clean. There is no calculation, no deception, no suffocating feeling of always being compared, replaced, betrayed. I spent four years waiting for someone. Now there is finally no need to wait anymore. In that city called Lam Thanh in the country, there was a person who was my fiance, a person who was my cousin, and a house I used to buy. And there will never be anyone waiting for an empty position again. * The lawyer's email was later updated several times. Tham Do Chu returned 300,000 with interest. Chu Au Vi was fired by the company and criticized the entire industry. The cross-border project she is in charge of also involves commercial bribery, and the client has begun legal procedures. Tham Do Chu's lawyer once contacted me, saying he wanted to know where I was and wanted to meet and apologize in person. I don't answer. During the fourth month in Bangkok, Tham Do Chu himself used an unfamiliar phone number to call me. I answered the phone. Because that number displays the area code as Bac Thanh. My mother's phone number is also in Bac Thanh. I'm afraid something will happen to my mother.
“Trinh Yeu.”
His voice was hoarse. It's like sandpaper rubbing against glass.
“I received the money.” I said, “Thank you.”
The other end of the line was silent for a very long time.
“I don't need your thanks.”
“So what do you need?”
“…I don't know.” His voice was low, so low that I almost couldn't hear clearly, "Trinh Yeu, I've come to your apartment. The door password hasn't changed, I can come in."
I said nothing.
"I threw away all your things. Slippers, toothbrush, razor, rose water. Even the pillow. And that photo. I tore it in half."
He stopped.
"I found the other half in the trash. I picked it up."
“That's something I don't need anymore.”
He choked as if he had choked on something, then spoke a few seconds later, his voice tense: "You don't even need me anymore."
"Tham Do Chu," I said, "Until now you still don't understand. It's not that I don't need you, it's that you have never belonged to me. Your time for Chu Au Vi, your patience for Chu Au Vi, your gentleness, kindness and the plane ticket over 1200 kilometers are all for her. For me there is only one sentence 'Isn't it okay now'."
My voice is not loud, but every word is very clear.
"You made me feel like my life wasn't worth a penny in your eyes. I had an ectopic pregnancy and almost died. You went with her to the emergency room. I went to try on wedding dresses 3 times alone, and you went with her to try on wedding dresses. You borrowed the money I saved for 5 years to buy a house for her, and you didn't even have an explanation. Now you're coming to me, because there's no one left for you, right?"
Are not."
“It's not—” His voice trembled, “It's not like that, Trinh Yeu. I know I'm wrong. I really know it's wrong. During this time every day he thought, what the hell was he doing. He saw the posts she posted on Wechat, he read her chat history, and realized she was always deceiving him. She said I was strong, said I could do anything myself, said I didn't like being bothered by others. I believed. I don't know if she did it on purpose, I really do