After Chu Trach left the clinic with Lam Dao, I sat back in my chair.

The room became quiet again.

But unlike before, I didn’t feel angry.

I didn’t feel hurt.

I only felt tired.

Tired of spending years proving that I was worth choosing.

Tired of waiting for someone to realize my importance.

Tired of believing that if I loved someone enough, they would eventually love me the same way.

The truth was simple.

Chu Trach had already made his choice.

And this time, I chose myself.

The next two days passed quickly.

I handed over every patient.

Finished every report.

Organized every document.

Everyone in the department knew I was leaving.

Some colleagues came to say goodbye.

Some were surprised.

Some were worried.

“You are really going to Xinjiang?”

I smiled.

“Yes.”

“Without getting married?”

I lowered my eyes for a second.

“That marriage was never as important as I thought.”

The head nurse looked at me silently.

Then she patted my shoulder.

“Doctor Tong, sometimes leaving is also a way to save yourself.”

I nodded.

Because I finally understood.

A person can survive many things.

But constantly being someone else’s second choice slowly destroys the heart.

On the night before departure, Chu Trach finally realized something was wrong.

My phone had been silent for two days.

No questions.

No arguments.

No complaints.

No messages asking when he would return.

He called.

I looked at the screen.

Chu Trach.

A name that used to make my heart race.

Now it only felt familiar.

I answered.

“Tinh Tinh.”

His voice sounded impatient.

“Why haven’t you replied to my messages?”

“I was busy.”

“Busy?”

He laughed lightly.

“You are angry because of Dao Dao?”

I looked out the window.

The night sky was quiet.

“No.”

“No?”

His tone changed.

“Then why are you acting like this?”

I smiled.

Because he still didn’t understand.

Even now.

He thought my silence was a way to attract attention.

He never considered that maybe I had simply stopped caring.

“Chu Trach.”

“Yes?”

“The wedding is cancelled.”

The other side became silent.

“What?”

“I said the wedding is cancelled.”

He laughed.

A little nervously.

“Stop joking.”

“I’m not joking.”

“Who told you to cancel?”

I closed my eyes.

That question was enough.

Not:

“Why?”

Not:

“Can we fix this?”

Only:

“Who gave you permission?”

I whispered:

“Myself.”

The silence lasted several seconds.

Then his voice became colder.

“Tong Tinh, don’t be unreasonable.”

I almost smiled.

Unreasonable.

The same word people used when they didn’t want to admit they were wrong.

“You postponed our marriage for another woman.”

“Now you call me unreasonable?”

“Dao Dao was in a difficult situation.”

“She needed me.”

I nodded.

Even though he couldn’t see.

“Yes.”

“She needed you.”

“And I finally understood that I don’t.”

Chu Trach became angry.

“You are blaming me because I helped someone?”

“No.”

I answered calmly.

“I’m blaming you because you never noticed that I was the person who needed you.”

The call became quiet.

For the first time, he had nothing to say.

Then he lowered his voice.

“Wait until I come back.”

“We’ll talk.”

“No need.”

“Everything has already been decided.”

After hanging up, I removed his chat from the top of my phone.

Not blocked.

Not deleted.

Just no longer important.

The next morning, I left for Xinjiang.

No goodbye.

No farewell.

No last meeting.

Exactly as I promised myself.

I didn’t want to leave a goodbye for someone who had already left me emotionally.

When the plane took off, I looked through the window.

The city became smaller.

And with it…

the old version of me.

The woman who waited for Chu Trach.

The woman who forgave every disappointment.

The woman who believed love meant sacrifice.

That woman stayed behind.

Three months later, Xinjiang changed my life.

The conditions were harder than I imagined.

The days were long.

The work was exhausting.

But every time I saved a patient, every time a family thanked me, every time I stood in the operating room wearing my medical uniform…

I remembered why I came.

I was not running away.

I was rebuilding myself.

Meanwhile, Chu Trach’s life began falling apart.

I heard about it from old colleagues.

Lam Dao’s “heart problems” continued.

But every examination showed nothing serious.

Doctors began questioning her repeated visits.

Then one day, the hospital received a complaint.

The complaint was against me.

The person who submitted it was Lam Dao.

She accused me of refusing treatment because of personal resentment.

When the hospital investigated, they found something unexpected.

The medical records.

The test requests.

The examination process.

Everything showed that I had acted correctly.

The complaint was rejected.

But the investigation uncovered another problem.

Lam Dao had repeatedly exaggerated symptoms to obtain special attention.

And the doctor who helped her bypass procedures…

was Chu Trach.

When he was questioned, he finally understood.

The woman he had protected for years had never been as fragile as he believed.

Then, six months after I left, Chu Trach came to Xinjiang.

I was surprised when I saw him standing outside the hospital.

He looked different.

Tired.

Lost.

Not like the man who had once confidently walked away from me.

“Tong Tinh.”

I stopped.

“What are you doing here?”

He looked at me.

“I want to apologize.”

I said nothing.

“I was wrong.”

Still nothing.

“I thought you would always wait for me.”

My expression remained calm.

“But I was wrong.”

I looked at him.

“Yes.”

“You were wrong.”

His eyes turned red.

“Can we start again?”

For a moment, the old memories appeared.

The promises.

The happiness.

The years together.

But they disappeared quickly.

Because love was not only about memories.

It was also about the moments when someone chose you.

And Chu Trach had chosen someone else.

“I hope you find happiness.”

His face changed.

“But not with me.”

He lowered his head.

Then he asked:

“Do you really not love me anymore?”

I looked at the snowy mountains in the distance.

Then I answered:

“I loved you.”

“But I loved myself more.”

He stood there silently.

And for the first time…

he understood that losing me was not because I stopped loving him.

It was because he had spent too long proving that he didn’t deserve that love.

But just as I turned around, my phone rang.

The hospital director.

His voice was urgent.

“Doctor Tong, we found something strange in Lam Dao’s medical records.”

I stopped.

“What?”

There was a pause.

Then he said:

“The chest pain case from before…”

“The original report was altered.”

My expression changed.

“Altered?”

“Yes.”

“And the person who changed it…”

The director hesitated.

“Was someone using Chu Trach’s medical access account.”

I looked back at the man standing behind me.

Because suddenly I realized…

The story between us was not over.

Not yet.