I stared at the old diary screenshots for a long time.
Everyone assumed the girl Luc Hanh Chu had written about was Thuong Thanh Tuyet.
Only I knew the truth.
The girl he met on his first day of university was me.
The person he followed into the student union was me.
And the confession on page thirty had happened beneath the old library staircase.
We had started dating that night.
But Luc Hanh Chu had asked for one condition.
“Don’t tell anyone yet.”
At first, I agreed because we were young.
Later, he said public relationships created gossip.
After graduation, he said workplace rumors could affect his career.
One year became three.
Three became ten.
Somehow, I had spent an entire decade being loved only where nobody could see.
My phone vibrated.
Luc Hanh Chu.
「Where are you?」
I didn’t answer.
Another message arrived.
「I’m already waiting at the intersection.」
Then:
「Nam Kha, don’t test my patience.」
I looked through the window.
The assistant who had picked me up noticed my expression in the rearview mirror.
—Miss To, are you uncomfortable?
—No.
I turned off my phone.
—Please keep driving.
When I arrived home, Luc Hanh Chu was standing outside.
Thuong Thanh Tuyet was gone.
He walked toward me immediately.
—Who brought you home?
—Mr. So’s assistant.
His expression darkened.
—You actually contacted that blind date?
—Yes.
—Nam Kha, I thought you were joking.
I smiled.
—Why would I joke?
He grabbed my wrist.
—Because you have a boyfriend.
I looked down at his hand.
Then back at him.
—Really?
He froze.
—Where is he?
His fingers loosened.
—What are you talking about?
—At the reunion, you said you were single.
His jaw tightened.
—You know why.
—Yes.
I nodded.
—I’ve known “why” for ten years.
I unlocked the door.
Before entering, I turned toward him.
—So I’m going to help you make it true.
His face changed.
—Nam Kha.
—We’re breaking up.
For the first time that night, his confidence disappeared.
—Because I took Thanh Tuyet home?
—No.
—Then because of that stupid promise?
—No.
I looked at him calmly.
—I’m leaving because after ten years, the woman beside you in public can still be anyone except me.
He stared at me.
—I’ve explained this countless times.
—And I’ve accepted it countless times.
I smiled faintly.
—That’s the problem.
He stepped closer.
—Stop making trouble. Go inside. We’ll talk tomorrow.
Once, those words could always calm me.
This time, I shook my head.
—There is no tomorrow for us.
I closed the door.
The next morning, my mother called.
—The So family confirmed dinner for Saturday. Don’t be late.
Normally I would have found an excuse.
Instead, I said:
—I won’t.
Saturday evening, I entered the restaurant expecting an awkward blind date.
The private room was empty except for one man.
Tall.
Dark suit.
A familiar face.
I stopped.
—Class president?
So Minh Duong stood and smiled.
The same class president who had taken the wineglass from my hand at the reunion.
—Nam Kha.
I stared at him.
—You’re Mr. So?
—Unfortunately.
I almost laughed.
—Then why did your assistant pick me up?
—Because I was already leaving for the airport when you contacted me.
He pulled out the chair opposite him.
—And because you sounded like someone who shouldn’t be left alone on the roadside after drinking.
That simple answer hurt more than I expected.
No hiding.
No two-street walk.
No instruction to wait until nobody was looking.
Just concern without conditions.
Dinner lasted two hours.
He didn’t confess some secret decade-long love.
He didn’t promise destiny.
He simply talked to me.
About work.
Books.
Our classmates.
The ridiculous reunion.
When we left, he asked:
—Would you mind meeting again?
I thought for a moment.
—I’d like that.
I didn’t notice the black car across the street.
Not until its door opened.
Luc Hanh Chu stepped out.
His face was terrifyingly calm.
—Nam Kha.
Minh Duong looked between us.
—Do you need me to stay?
That question mattered.
He didn’t decide for me.
I answered:
—No. I’ll be fine.
After Minh Duong left, Luc Hanh Chu walked toward me.
—You really went on the blind date.
—Yes.
—Three days after breaking up with me?
I laughed softly.
—Interesting.
—What?
—You publicly declared yourself single before we’d even broken up.
He went silent.
I continued:
—But somehow I’m moving too quickly.
His expression tightened.
—Thanh Tuyet and I have nothing.
—Then why did you say you were single?
—Everyone was joking.
—Why did you carry her?
—She was drunk.
—Why was she in my passenger seat?
—Nam Kha—
I interrupted him.
—Why did you ask me to walk two streets alone so nobody would see me getting into your car?
Silence.
That was the only answer I needed.
A week later, Thuong Thanh Tuyet came looking for me.
She looked genuinely confused.
—Did you and Hanh Chu really date?
—Ten years.
Her face went white.
Apparently, even my best friend hadn’t known.
That realization was almost funny.
Luc Hanh Chu had hidden me so successfully that the woman everyone believed was his first love had never realized I existed.
Thanh Tuyet sat down slowly.
—The diary…
—Was about me.
She covered her mouth.
Then she whispered:
—At the reunion, I thought he was actually single.
I believed her.
That didn’t erase how much her closeness had hurt me.
But the person who owed me honesty had always been Luc Hanh Chu.
Not her.
Two months later, he finally admitted why he’d hidden our relationship for so long.
At university, he feared teasing.
At work, gossip.
Later, after years of secrecy, publicly admitting we had been together all along would have forced him to explain ten years of lies.
So every year made the next year harder.
—But I loved you, he said.
I looked at him.
—I believe you.
He seemed startled.
—Then come back.
—No.
His eyes reddened.
I continued gently:
—Love that must remain invisible forever isn’t the life I want.
A year passed.
Minh Duong and I continued seeing each other.
Slowly.
Without promises about forever.
One evening, he invited me to his company’s anniversary dinner.
When we entered, he introduced me naturally.
—This is Nam Kha, my girlfriend.
Just one sentence.
Nothing dramatic.
Nobody applauded.
Nobody cared very much.
And somehow that almost made me cry.
For ten years, I’d been taught that acknowledging me was complicated.
Dangerous.
Inconvenient.
It took another man five seconds.
Later that night, I saw Luc Hanh Chu across the ballroom.
Our eyes met.
His gaze moved toward Minh Duong’s hand holding mine.
For a moment, I remembered the intersection two streets away.
The hidden passenger-seat sticker.
The secret diary.
The ten years I spent waiting for permission to exist beside him.
Luc Hanh Chu once told me that if people discovered us, everything would become complicated.
He was right.
Eventually everyone discovered the truth.
And nothing happened.
The sky didn’t fall.
His career didn’t disappear.
Our classmates simply realized that the mysterious girl in his old diary had been me all along.
The only thing that disappeared was us.
That was when I finally understood:
I hadn’t lost ten years because Luc Hanh Chu never loved me.
Perhaps he did.
I lost them because I kept accepting a love that required me to hide.
And when I finally walked into a room beside someone who introduced me without fear, I realized how little I had actually been asking for all along.
Not a grand confession.
Not a ten-year promise.
Just one simple sentence spoken where everyone could hear:
This is the woman I chose.
