The next morning, Luc Yen Thanh had already left.

There was a note on the table.

“Tieu Niem isn’t feeling well. I’ll be with her today.”

No question about the hospital.

No question about why I had looked so pale.

Not even a question about the message saying the baby was gone.

I stared at the note for several seconds.

Then I tore it in half.

That afternoon, I submitted my transfer documents.

Two years earlier, after surviving seventy-two hours beneath the collapsed factory, I had accepted an overseas assignment no one else wanted.

Everyone thought I was trying to prove something.

Maybe I was.

But while Luc Yen Thanh spent one thousand days keeping a conversation streak alive with To Niem, I spent those same one thousand days rebuilding the part of myself I had abandoned for him.

I worked nights.

Took impossible projects.

Learned three new markets.

Turned failing accounts profitable.

By the time headquarters released the annual industry rankings, my name had climbed into the top three.

Luc Yen Thanh knew none of it.

He still thought I worked the same ordinary position I had held when we married.

Because he had never asked.

Three days later, my company held its annual awards dinner.

I hadn’t planned to attend.

Then my director called.

“You’re receiving the Global Strategy Award. If you don’t show up, I’ll personally drag you there.”

So I went.

Halfway through the evening, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Why are you here?”

Luc Yen Thanh.

Beside him stood To Niem.

She wore a white dress and the red bracelet matching the one on his wrist.

Apparently, her company had been invited as a junior partner.

To Niem smiled.

“What a coincidence.”

Luc Yen Thanh frowned at my dress.

“Wasn’t your department having a small internal dinner?”

Before I could answer, the host stepped onto the stage.

“And now, our final recognition tonight goes to the executive who led three international restructurings and brought in over four hundred million yuan in new contracts.”

Luc Yen Thanh barely listened.

He was checking To Niem’s drink.

Then the host said my name.

The entire ballroom applauded.

Luc Yen Thanh’s hand stopped in midair.

I walked onto the stage.

On the enormous screen behind me appeared:

LIN MAN — GLOBAL STRATEGY DIRECTOR
INDUSTRY RANKING: NO. 3

When I looked down, Luc Yen Thanh was staring at me.

Not coldly.

Not distractedly.

For the first time in years, he was actually looking.

After the ceremony, he found me near the elevator.

“You never told me.”

I almost laughed.

“I did.”

His brows tightened.

“When?”

“Eight months ago.”

He looked confused.

So I opened my phone.

I found the message.

I had written:

I was promoted today. The company wants me to lead the overseas division. I think this is the biggest opportunity of my career.

His reply appeared underneath.

Received.

His face changed.

I scrolled further.

Another message.

I survived the factory accident. I’m scared to sleep because I keep hearing the building collapse.

Received.

Another.

The doctor says the baby is healthy.

Received.

Then the final one.

The baby is gone. I gave it up.

Received.

His face drained of color.

“I didn’t send those.”

“I know.”

“What?”

“They were automatic replies.”

Silence.

He finally understood.

For years, he had not even rejected me personally.

He had outsourced ignoring me.

He reached for my wrist.

I stepped back.

“Don’t.”

“Lin Man, about the baby—”

“You don’t get to ask now.”

His voice cracked.

“You really…”

“Yes.”

He stared at me.

“Why didn’t you tell me face-to-face?”

I looked at him for a long moment.

“I spent years telling you everything.”

Then I glanced at the red string around his wrist.

“You were just always listening to someone else.”

To Niem appeared behind him.

“Yen Thanh, the driver is waiting.”

He didn’t turn.

That seemed to surprise her.

He kept looking at me.

“When are you leaving?”

“Friday.”

“For how long?”

“Indefinitely.”

His eyes widened.

“What about us?”

I took an envelope from my bag.

Inside were the divorce papers.

His hands shook when he saw them.

“You planned this?”

“For one thousand days.”

That finally broke something in his expression.

I smiled faintly.

“You spent one thousand days choosing her.”

I placed the envelope in his hands.

“I spent one thousand days making sure that when I finally left, I would never need you again.”

Then the elevator doors opened.

I stepped inside.

Luc Yen Thanh suddenly reached forward.

“Wait.”

For years, I had waited.

For replies.

For dinners.

For anniversaries.

For him to notice my ring had been replaced by something worth thirty yuan.

For him to notice me.

This time, I pressed the button.

The doors began closing.

His voice came through the narrowing gap.

“Lin Man, I didn’t know.”

I looked at him one last time.

“That was always the problem.”

The doors closed.

And for the first time in our marriage, Luc Yen Thanh sent me a message without an automatic reply.

It came thirty seconds later.

Please don’t leave. We need to talk.

I looked at it.

Then turned off my phone.

Because this time, the message that would receive nothing back…

was his.