Ha Du Sinh raised the bag of pastries in his hand.

“I bought the chestnut cake you like.”

I looked at the logo.

It was Lam Vien Vien’s favorite shop.

I had never liked chestnuts.

Tieu Thu, standing beside me, laughed coldly.

“Doctor Ha, you’ve dated Oanh for six years and still don’t know what she likes?”

Ha Du Sinh’s expression stiffened.

Lam Vien Vien immediately lowered her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I said I wanted dessert, so Doctor Ha bought extra…”

“No need to explain.”

I stepped over the bedding on the floor and picked it up.

Ha Du Sinh seemed relieved.

Perhaps he thought I was finally behaving like the sensible girlfriend he’d always demanded.

Then I carried the bedding into the bedroom and put it inside my suitcase.

His face changed.

“What are you doing?”

“Packing.”

“Why?”

I looked at him.

“I’m moving.”

Lam Vien Vien immediately said:

“Miss Giang, please don’t misunderstand. I’ll leave.”

She grabbed the teddy bear dramatically.

“I don’t want you and Doctor Ha to fight because of me.”

Ha Du Sinh frowned.

“Vien Vien, stop.”

Then he looked at me.

“She’s staying temporarily. Why are you making this so serious?”

I almost smiled.

There it was again.

My feelings were always “serious.”

My needs were always “troublesome.”

My disappointment was always “jealousy.”

But Lam Vien Vien’s smallest inconvenience was an emergency.

“I agree.”

He paused.

“What?”

“Let her stay.”

I zipped my suitcase.

“I’m leaving anyway.”

Ha Du Sinh stared at me.

“Where?”

“Another city.”

His expression finally changed.

“What do you mean?”

“My company transferred me.”

“When?”

“Next week.”

“You agreed?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t discuss it with me?”

I looked at him for several seconds.

Then I repeated the sentence he’d given me years earlier.

“This is my life. I shouldn’t let you decide.”

His face froze.

Tieu Thu turned away, hiding a smile.

Ha Du Sinh walked toward me.

“Giang Oanh, stop acting emotionally.”

“I’m perfectly calm.”

“You’re moving because you’re angry about Vien Vien?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

Because I was tired.

Tired of begging for five minutes from someone who gave another woman entire afternoons.

Tired of explaining why being ignored hurt.

Tired of being called dependent whenever I needed him and unreasonable whenever I noticed he was always available for her.

But suddenly none of that needed explaining anymore.

“Because I want to.”

He stared at me.

Apparently those four words frightened him more than all our previous arguments.

Before, every decision I made included him.

Now he had disappeared from the equation.

His phone rang.

Lam Vien Vien looked at the screen.

“Doctor Ha, Professor Chen is calling.”

Ha Du Sinh didn’t move.

The phone continued ringing.

For the first time since I’d known him, he ignored a work call because of me.

Six months earlier, that would have made me happy.

Now I only felt tired.

“Answer it.”

“Giang Oanh—”

“My surgery is tomorrow morning. I need rest.”

His eyes sharpened.

“Surgery?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t reschedule?”

“No.”

“I told you I have work tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“Then wait until next week.”

I looked at him.

“Why?”

He seemed stunned by the question.

“You need someone with you.”

“I have Tieu Thu.”

His jaw tightened.

“I’m your boyfriend.”

“Exactly.”

I smiled faintly.

“And somehow my best friend knows more about my surgery than you do.”

That night, I stayed at Tieu Thu’s apartment.

At six the next morning, she accompanied me to the hospital.

Everything had already been arranged.

Admission.

Tests.

Consent forms.

Recovery room.

For years, Ha Du Sinh had complained that I couldn’t handle anything alone.

That morning, I discovered something embarrassing.

I could.

I’d simply been accustomed to sharing my life with the person I loved.

There was a difference.

Shortly before I was taken in, footsteps sounded outside.

Ha Du Sinh appeared.

Still wearing his hospital coat.

“You really came without telling me the time?”

I looked at him.

“You had work.”

“I changed my schedule.”

Tieu Thu raised an eyebrow.

“So Doctor Ha can change his schedule.”

He ignored her.

“Give me your records.”

“No.”

“Oanh.”

“My doctor already has them.”

“I can speak to him.”

“There’s no need.”

His expression darkened.

“Why are you treating me like a stranger?”

The question almost made me laugh.

Because that was exactly what he’d spent years teaching me to do.

“I thought this was what you wanted.”

He frowned.

“You wanted me to be independent.”

“I didn’t mean this.”

“Then what did you mean?”

He couldn’t answer.

Perhaps he had wanted a girlfriend who required nothing from him while remaining permanently available whenever he remembered her.

But that person didn’t exist anymore.

The procedure went smoothly.

When I woke, Tieu Thu was beside me.

Ha Du Sinh was outside.

He had waited for hours.

When I was discharged, he drove us home.

Or tried to.

I declined.

Three days later, he discovered half my belongings were already packed.

That was when he finally panicked.

“You’re seriously leaving?”

“Yes.”

“What about us?”

I looked at him.

“What about us?”

His face changed.

“We’ve been together six years.”

“I know.”

“You can’t end six years without even discussing it.”

That sentence was almost unbelievable.

“You went abroad on my birthday without discussing it.”

“You moved Lam Vien Vien into our home without discussing it.”

“You made decisions about my medical treatment without asking what I wanted.”

I looked directly at him.

“You spent years telling me not to involve you in every part of my life.”

“So I learned.”

His voice became hoarse.

“I didn’t ask you to remove me completely.”

“No.”

I nodded.

“You just taught me that whenever I needed you, I was a burden.”

He went silent.

I took the spare key from my bag and placed it on the table.

“We’re breaking up.”

He didn’t touch the key.

“Because of Vien Vien?”

“No.”

That surprised him.

“She’s only the person who made me realize you were capable of everything you claimed you couldn’t give me.”

Patience.

Attention.

Time.

Gentleness.

None of those things had been outside his personality.

He simply hadn’t wanted to spend them on me.

A week later, I left.

Ha Du Sinh called constantly during the first month.

I answered only when necessary.

Then one evening, he sent a message.

“Vien Vien moved out.”

I didn’t reply.

Another arrived.

“I requested another supervisor for her.”

Still nothing.

Finally:

“I understand now.”

I stared at those words for a long time.

Then turned off my phone.

Understanding late did not create an obligation for me to return.

My new city was difficult at first.

New apartment.

New colleagues.

New routines.

But slowly, my life filled itself.

I chose my own meals.

Booked my own trips.

Went to exhibitions alone.

Made friends without asking whether Ha Du Sinh wanted to come.

The independence he’d demanded from me stopped feeling like punishment.

It became freedom.

Six months later, my company promoted me.

A year later, I returned to my old city for Tieu Thu’s anniversary dinner.

Ha Du Sinh was there.

He looked thinner.

He approached me after dinner.

“I heard you were promoted.”

“Yes.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable anymore.

At least not for me.

Then he asked:

“Are you seeing someone?”

“No.”

Something hopeful entered his eyes.

I understood immediately.

So I added:

“But I’m not waiting for anyone either.”

The hope disappeared.

He smiled bitterly.

“I deserved that.”

I didn’t answer.

After a moment he said:

“I used to think you couldn’t live without me.”

“So did I.”

“And now?”

I looked through the restaurant window at the city lights.

“Now I know I could always live without you.”

He lowered his eyes.

“Then why were you so dependent on me?”

That question deserved an answer.

So I gave him one.

“Because I loved you.”

He looked up.

“I wasn’t asking because I couldn’t choose a restaurant.”

“I asked because I wanted to eat with you.”

“I didn’t send you pictures of dresses because I couldn’t dress myself.”

“I wanted to know which one you liked.”

“I didn’t tell you every little thing because I was incapable of solving problems.”

I smiled faintly.

“I was sharing my life with you.”

Ha Du Sinh stood completely still.

Perhaps for the first time, he understood.

What he’d called dependence had often been intimacy.

What he’d called childishness had sometimes simply been affection.

And by repeatedly teaching me not to need him, he’d eventually succeeded.

“I was wrong,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Can we try again?”

I shook my head.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I like the person I’ve become.”

His eyes reddened slightly.

“And I’m afraid that returning to you would turn me back into someone who spends every day wondering whether she’s asking for too much.”

He had no answer.

Before leaving, I told him one last thing.

“You weren’t wrong to want an independent girlfriend.”

He looked at me.

“You just didn’t understand that an independent woman is also independent enough to leave when she’s unhappy.”

Then I walked away.

Two years later, I heard Ha Du Sinh had become more patient.

With patients.

With colleagues.

With the people close to him.

Perhaps losing me taught him something.

I hoped it did.

But his growth no longer belonged to my story.

Mine had already moved forward.

Once, I couldn’t choose what to wear without sending him three photographs.

Now I could move cities, enter a hospital, accept promotions and build an entire future without asking Ha Du Sinh a single question.

In the end, he got exactly what he’d always asked for.

I became independent.

The only thing he hadn’t expected was that once I learned I could handle my life alone—

I would finally realize I didn’t need to spend it with him.