Tran Thuoc’s words fell into the room like ice.

“What else do you want me to do?”

I looked at him.

For a moment, I almost wanted to laugh.

Because he truly didn’t understand.

He thought the problem was the marriage certificate.

He thought the problem was my jealousy.

He thought I was just an unreasonable woman who couldn’t understand his kindness toward another person.

But he didn’t know that the moment I lay alone on the operating table, the moment I woke up from anesthesia with my body empty and my husband nowhere to be found…

Something inside me had already ended.

I slowly pulled my hand away from his.

“I don’t want you to do anything anymore.”

Tran Thuoc froze.

The anger on his face disappeared for a second.

“Van Van…”

I looked at the man standing in front of me.

The man who had spent years telling me that I was the only woman he loved.

The man who had held my hand during countless nights and promised me a future.

The same man who, one day after our wedding, gave another woman his legal identity as a husband.

“I am tired.”

My voice was very soft.

But this time, I didn’t cry.

“I don’t want explanations.”

“Don’t want promises.”

“And I don’t want to wait for the day when you finally remember that I am your wife.”

Tran Thuoc’s expression changed.

“You are misunderstanding me.”

I shook my head.

“No.”

I looked at him calmly.

“I understood everything.”

He opened his mouth.

But before he could speak, my phone rang.

It was my lawyer.

I answered directly.

“Hello.”

A calm female voice came from the other side.

“Miss To, I have prepared the documents according to your request. The divorce agreement, property separation agreement, and related procedures are ready.”

Tran Thuoc heard those words.

His face immediately changed.

“Divorce?”

The room became silent.

I ended the call and looked at him.

“Yes.”

His eyebrows tightened.

“Van Van, stop joking.”

“I am not joking.”

“You just had surgery.”

“I know.”

“You are still angry.”

“No.”

I looked at him.

“I am awake.”

Those three words made his expression stiffen.

Because he finally realized something.

This was not a fight.

Not a tantrum.

Not a moment of anger.

I had truly decided to leave.

“You are leaving because of Tinh Di?”

I smiled faintly.

“Tran Thuoc.”

“Do you know what the most painful thing is?”

He looked at me.

“It is not that you married her.”

His breathing slowed.

“It is that when I needed you the most, you were still thinking about how to protect her feelings.”

I touched my lower abdomen unconsciously.

A place where my child had once existed.

“A husband who cannot stand beside his wife when she is hurt…”

I paused.

“What do I need him for?”

Tran Thuoc’s face became pale.

For the first time, he looked afraid.

Not angry.

Afraid.

“Van Van, don’t make decisions while you are emotional.”

I almost smiled.

“Emotional?”

I repeated.

“Do you think I decided this today?”

I looked toward the wedding photo on the wall.

“Our entire marriage, I was waiting.”

“Waiting for you to choose me.”

“Waiting for you to realize that I was also someone who needed protection.”

“But I waited too long.”

The next morning, I left the wedding house.

The same house where I had imagined raising our child.

The same house where I had once arranged tiny clothes and prepared a room full of dreams.

I didn’t take much.

Only my personal belongings.

The medical records.

The divorce documents.

And the small ultrasound photograph I had hidden carefully.

Before leaving, I stood in the doorway for a long time.

Not because I wanted to stay.

Because I was saying goodbye to the woman who had lived there.

The woman who believed love could solve everything.

That woman was gone.

Three months later, everyone in the city heard that Tran Thuoc and Truong Tinh Di had divorced.

The reason was simple.

When Tinh Di recovered, she no longer wanted to continue the marriage.

The marriage certificate that had once been called a “life-saving straw” became meaningless.

But by then, it was too late.

Because I was no longer waiting.

I had moved to another city.

I opened a small design studio.

I learned to walk slowly again.

I learned to sleep peacefully.

I learned that a quiet life could also be happiness.

One afternoon, while I was arranging flowers outside my shop, a familiar voice came from behind me.

“Van Van.”

My hand stopped.

I didn’t need to turn around.

I knew who it was.

Tran Thuoc.

Years had not changed him completely.

But something was different.

The confidence was gone.

The arrogance was gone.

He looked tired.

“I finally found you.”

I continued arranging the flowers.

“You shouldn’t have.”

His throat moved.

“I want to explain.”

“There is no need.”

“I know what happened.”

“No.”

His voice became hoarse.

“You don’t know everything.”

I looked at him.

“What else is there?”

He was silent for a long time.

Then he said:

“That day when you left the hospital…”

My expression changed slightly.

“I came.”

The flower in my hand stopped moving.

“What?”

“I went to the hospital.”

He lowered his head.

“But when I arrived, you had already left.”

I stared at him.

“Why?”

He clenched his hands.

“Because Tinh Di called me.”

A bitter smile appeared on my lips.

“Of course.”

“No.”

He shook his head quickly.

“That’s not the reason.”

He took a deep breath.

“She told me she was in danger.”

“I went there.”

“Then I learned something.”

I looked at him silently.

“She lied.”

The wind passed between us.

For the first time, I saw regret in his eyes.

Real regret.

“Van Van, I spent years believing I was saving someone.”

His voice broke.

“But I was destroying the person who truly loved me.”

I didn’t answer.

Because regret was not the same as forgiveness.

A person could realize their mistake.

But that didn’t mean they could return to the place where they caused the damage.

Tran Thuoc looked at me.

“Can you give me another chance?”

I lowered my eyes.

The old me would have cried.

The old me would have forgiven him immediately.

But the woman standing here had already survived the hardest moment of her life alone.

“I loved you.”

His eyes reddened.

“I know.”

“But I don’t love you anymore.”

The sentence was quiet.

Yet it destroyed the last hope on his face.

I turned back to my flowers.

And for the first time…

I walked away from Tran Thuoc without looking back.