“Tiểu Hoa, why haven’t you left yet?”
The security guard held the umbrella over me.
His voice was full of confusion.
Everyone in Thịnh Viên Group knew me.
For seven years, I had been the person standing beside General Manager Cố Trầm Chu.
The person who arrived earliest.
The person who left last.
The person who solved problems before anyone even knew they existed.
Yet tonight…
I was the only person abandoned outside the company building.
I lowered my eyes.
The rain blurred my vision.
Or maybe it was something else.
“Something happened.”
The security guard looked toward the empty street.
“The convoy already left?”
I nodded.
He hesitated.
“Did they forget you?”
Forget.
A simple word.
But strangely enough, it hurt more than being ignored.
Because forgetting meant I was not important enough to remember.
I smiled.
“Maybe.”
The security guard looked uncomfortable.
He wanted to say something.
But he knew better.
Thịnh Viên Group was not a place where ordinary employees questioned decisions made by the people at the top.
I took the umbrella.
“Thank you.”
Then I turned around.
And walked back into the company.
The annual celebration party continued without me.
The venue was decorated beautifully.
Crystal lights.
Expensive wine.
Hundreds of employees wearing their best clothes.
Everyone was waiting for the arrival of General Manager Cố Trầm Chu.
When his car stopped outside the hotel, reporters immediately surrounded him.
He stepped out wearing a black suit.
Calm.
Elegant.
Untouchable.
Beside him was Thẩm Tri Ý.
His first love.
The woman everyone believed would eventually become Mrs. Cố.
The cameras flashed.
People whispered.
“Didn’t they say she was overseas?”
“She came back for him.”
“They look perfect together.”
Cố Trầm Chu heard those words.
But he didn’t react.
Because his mind was somewhere else.
On the phone call thirty minutes ago.
On my quiet voice.
“General Manager Cố, where is my car?”
He had expected anger.
Complaints.
Tears.
Something.
But there was nothing.
Only disappointment.
And somehow…
That bothered him more.
At nine o’clock that night, Cố Trầm Chu finally realized something was wrong.
Because the annual celebration was running smoothly.
Too smoothly.
Usually, after every major event, I would appear beside him.
Handing him documents.
Reminding him about speeches.
Checking his schedule.
Making sure he didn’t drink too much because of his stomach problems.
But tonight…
Nobody was reminding him.
Nobody was correcting his mistakes.
Nobody was quietly taking care of everything.
He reached for his phone.
The message box with my name was still at the top.
Seven years.
Thousands of messages.
Most of them were work.
But some…
Were things he never noticed.
“General Manager Cố, your stomach medicine is in the second drawer.”
“Don’t drink coffee before the meeting.”
“The weather is cold. Take a coat.”
“Your mother called. She asked if you were eating properly.”
He stared at the screen.
For the first time…
He realized how much of his life had depended on one person.
And how easily he had treated her as if she would never leave.
At ten thirty, he returned to the company.
The lights were almost off.
He expected to find me working.
Like always.
But my desk was empty.
Not messy.
Not abandoned.
Empty.
Every personal item was gone.
The small plant I kept by the window.
The notebook full of reminders.
The photo frame.
Everything.
Only one envelope remained.
Cố Trầm Chu picked it up.
His fingers suddenly became cold.
The first words were simple.
“Resignation Letter.”
He stopped breathing for a second.
He opened it.
Seven years of work.
Seven years of dedication.
Seven years summarized in a few pages.
At the end was one sentence:
“Thank you for giving me the opportunity to grow.”
“From today, I will no longer trouble General Manager Cố.”
No accusations.
No complaints.
No blame.
That was what frightened him.
Because he knew me.
Or at least…
He thought he did.
The old me would have asked why.
The old me would have cried.
The old me would have waited for him to explain.
But this letter belonged to someone who had already given up.
The next morning, Cố Trầm Chu personally came to my apartment.
Something he had never done before.
When I opened the door, he stood there.
No assistant.
No driver.
No cold expression.
Only exhaustion.
“Why?”
That was his first word.
I looked at him calmly.
“Why what?”
“Why did you resign?”
I smiled.
“Because I wanted to.”
His eyebrows tightened.
“That is not an answer.”
“It is.”
He looked frustrated.
“Tiểu Hoa, after seven years, you leave without saying anything?”
I stared at him.
“Did you ask me to stay?”
He froze.
I continued.
“Yesterday, I called you.”
“You told me the convoy didn’t wait for unimportant people.”
His face changed.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But that’s what you said.”
Silence.
The rain outside sounded exactly like yesterday.
Except this time…
I wasn’t standing alone in it.
“I prepared a car for you.”
His voice became lower.
“I know.”
I looked at him.
“The thirty-second car?”
His expression changed.
“How did you know?”
I laughed softly.
Because of course.
There was a car.
There had always been a car.
But it was too late.
“I arranged the entire convoy.”
“Thirty-one cars.”
“Thirty-one names.”
“Thirty-one drivers.”
“Except mine.”
Cố Trầm Chu frowned.
“That wasn’t my order.”
Those words made me pause.
“What?”
He took out his phone.
Opened the final convoy list.
“There was supposed to be a thirty-second vehicle.”
“Your name was there.”
I looked at the screen.
My name.
A driver.
A license plate.
Everything.
My eyes narrowed.
“Then who removed it?”
Cố Trầm Chu didn’t answer.
Because he already knew.
The investigation took only one day.
The person who modified the convoy list was not an employee.
It was someone with access.
Someone trusted.
Thẩm Tri Ý.
When the truth came out, everyone was shocked.
She had deleted my name.
Then added herself to Cố Trầm Chu’s car.
Not because she needed a ride.
But because she wanted everyone to see something.
She wanted everyone to believe she had returned to her rightful place.
And I…
Was just the secretary who had stayed too long.
When Cố Trầm Chu confronted her, she didn’t deny it.
Instead, she smiled.
“You really care about her now?”
His face was cold.
“This has nothing to do with caring.”
She laughed.
“You know what the funniest thing is?”
“She spent seven years following you.”
“She solved everything for you.”
“She loved you more than anyone.”
“And you never looked at her.”
Cố Trầm Chu said nothing.
Because that was the truth.
“You only noticed her when she left.”
A week later, Cố Trầm Chu found me again.
But this time, he wasn’t asking me to return to work.
He was asking something else.
“Can we start over?”
I looked at him.
The man I had admired for seven years.
The man I once thought was the center of my world.
Now…
He was just someone from my past.
“General Manager Cố.”
He flinched at the formal address.
“You don’t need a secretary.”
“You need someone who loves you.”
“But I don’t want to be that person anymore.”
His eyes reddened.
“Why?”
I smiled.
“Because I finally realized something.”
“What?”
“Being needed is not the same as being valued.”
Silence.
A painful silence.
Then he whispered:
“I never thought you would leave.”
“I know.”
“That was my mistake.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
Three years later.
Thịnh Viên Group had a new competitor.
A company founded by a woman who once stood in the rain outside its doors.
My company.
I built it from nothing.
Not because I wanted revenge.
But because I finally understood my own worth.
At a business conference, I met Cố Trầm Chu again.
He looked older.
Not physically.
But emotionally.
He smiled.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
A pause.
Then he said:
“I heard you still keep the blue gift box.”
I looked surprised.
He smiled sadly.
“The one you were carrying that night.”
I remembered.
The gift I never gave.
A custom-made pen.
For his seven-year anniversary at Thịnh Viên.
I had planned to tell him:
“You worked hard. I am proud of you.”
But I never got the chance.
“I threw it away.”
His smile faded.
“Why?”
“Because some gifts belong to the past.”
People often asked me if I regretted those seven years.
My answer was always no.
Because those seven years taught me something important.
A person can spend years proving their loyalty.
But if the wrong person is watching…
They will only see your presence.
Never your value.
The night I was left alone in the rain, I thought I had lost my place beside Cố Trầm Chu.
But I was wrong.
I had not lost my place.
I had finally found my own.
