“What else do you want me to do?”
Tran Thuoc’s voice carried a trace of exhaustion.
An exhaustion that almost made me laugh.
Because he was not the one who was tired.
Not the person who had just undergone surgery.
Not the person who woke up alone in a cold hospital room.
Not the person who carried a child inside her body and had to make the most painful decision by herself.
The tired one was him.
The man who had time to hold another woman’s hand.
The man who had time to comfort another woman.
The man who had time to register a marriage with another woman.
I looked at him for a long time.
Then I asked:
“Tran Thuoc, what if today the person registering a marriage with someone else was me?”
He froze.
“What?”
“I’m asking you.”
My voice remained calm.
“What if I told you I needed to marry another man to help him stabilize emotionally?”
“What if I told you he was pitiful?”
“What if I told you that besides that marriage certificate, you were still the only person I loved?”
The room fell silent.
His expression changed.
“Van Van, that’s different.”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
“It is different.”
“Because if it were me, you would never accept it.”
Tran Thuoc stared at me.
For the first time, he seemed to realize that I was no longer standing in the same place.
I was no longer the wife who always stood behind him.
No longer the woman who silently endured everything.
“Are you blaming me?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“I’m just understanding something.”
“What?”
I looked at the wedding ring on my finger.
“From beginning to end, the only person who believed we were a family…”
I paused.
“Was me.”
He remained silent.
Maybe he wanted to explain.
Maybe he wanted to say he loved me.
But those words were already too late.
Because love was never proven by what someone said.
It was proven by what someone chose.
And when I needed him the most…
He chose someone else.
The next day, I filed for divorce.
Tran Thuoc didn’t believe me.
He stood in the living room and watched me sign the papers.
“Are you serious?”
I didn’t look up.
“Yes.”
“Just because of this?”
My pen stopped.
“This?”
I looked at him.
“You call your husband registering a marriage with another woman ‘this’?”
He was speechless.
“I already explained. It was temporary.”
I nodded.
“Fine.”
“Then our divorce can also be temporary.”
His brows furrowed.
“Are you trying to punish me?”
I smiled.
“No.”
“I’m just giving you exactly what you gave me.”
Three days later, the news spread.
Tran Thuoc and Truong Tinh Di still had not divorced.
The reason?
She was “emotionally unstable.”
The Tran family still wanted to maintain that marriage.
The same people who once told me to understand and endure suddenly became quiet.
Because they realized something.
A fake marriage…
Could become real.
One month later, Tran Thuoc came to find me.
He no longer looked calm like before.
“Van Van.”
I was reading some documents.
I didn’t look up.
“What is it?”
“I want to talk.”
“We already talked.”
He clenched his hands.
“Do you really want to leave me?”
I looked at him.
“Tran Thuoc.”
“Have you ever thought…”
“While you were trying to keep two women in your life…”
“You might have already lost the only person who truly wanted to stay?”
He said nothing.
After leaving the Tran family, I started over.
Without the title of Mrs. Tran.
Without his protection.
Without anyone standing behind me.
But for the first time in years…
I could finally breathe.
I opened my own clinic.
Continued my studies.
Built a life that belonged only to me.
I once thought losing Tran Thuoc meant losing everything.
Later, I realized…
I only lost someone who had already stopped choosing me.
Half a year later.
I met Tran Thuoc again at a medical conference.
He looked at me for a long time.
“You’ve changed.”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
“You’re not like before.”
“Of course not.”
I looked at him.
“Because the woman who loved you died.”
He froze.
“Van Van…”
“She died the day she lay alone in the hospital.”
“She died the day she realized her husband was holding another woman’s hand.”
“She died the day you told her not to interfere with your life.”
Tran Thuoc lowered his head.
For the first time, I saw him unable to find an excuse.
“I regret it.”
I said nothing.
“I truly regret it.”
I looked at him.
“I believe you.”
He looked up.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
I spoke softly.
“But regret does not mean you can go back.”
Later, I heard that Truong Tinh Di and Tran Thuoc eventually divorced.
Not because she recovered.
But because once she no longer needed him to save her…
She no longer wanted to stay with him.
Tran Thuoc lost everything.
Not because I took revenge.
But because he spent too much time protecting someone who never chose him.
One year later, I gave birth to a baby girl.
She was healthy.
Beautiful.
When I held her in my arms, I remembered the day I lay on the operating table.
The day I said:
“I don’t want to become a tool to give birth for other people.”
At that time, I thought I was losing everything.
But the truth was…
I was saving myself.
Someone once asked me:
“Do you regret loving Tran Thuoc?”
I thought for a long time.
Then I answered:
“No.”
“Because he taught me something important.”
“Loving someone does not mean sacrificing yourself.”
“And someone who truly loves you…”
“Will never force you to become the second choice.”
The day I walked into my wedding ceremony, I believed I would be Tran Thuoc’s wife forever.
But the day he registered a marriage with another woman…
I finally understood.
Some separations are not losses.
They are freedom.
He once thought I would wait for him forever.
But he forgot one thing.
A woman who has been hurt enough to let go will never return just because the person who broke her heart finally learns to regret it.
