The industry exchange banquet was held on the top floor of the Grand Hyatt.

When Luc Ky and I entered, several designers immediately came over to greet us.

For the first time in years, nobody introduced me as Ha Tu Hanh’s fiancée.

They called me by my own name.

—Designer To, I saw your autumn collection.

—Miss To, are you still accepting collaboration projects?

—Professor Luc said your studio is preparing to expand overseas.

I held a glass of sparkling water and smiled.

—We’re considering it.

Luc Ky glanced at me.

—Not considering. Preparing.

I laughed.

—Senior, don’t expose all my plans.

Neither of us noticed the commotion at the entrance until the room suddenly became quieter.

Ha Tu Hanh had returned early from Hokkaido.

Tong Dao was beside him.

She wore the diamond necklace from the photograph.

The one he had told me he would buy two identical copies of.

His gaze crossed half the ballroom and landed on me.

Then on Luc Ky.

His expression immediately darkened.

He walked straight over.

—To Niem.

I looked at him.

—Mr. Ha.

That title stopped him.

—Why did you block me?

—Because I didn’t want your calls.

His eyes dropped to my dress.

Then to Luc Ky standing beside me.

—And this?

Luc Ky extended his hand politely.

—Luc Ky. We met several years ago.

Ha Tu Hanh ignored the hand.

—What relationship do you two have?

I nearly laughed.

Tong Dao hurried over.

—Tu Hanh, don’t misunderstand. Maybe Miss To just needed someone to accompany her because you were traveling with me.

The sentence sounded considerate.

But everyone nearby heard the implication.

I turned toward her.

—Miss Tong, you don’t need to explain my personal life.

Her smile stiffened.

Ha Tu Hanh lowered his voice.

—Come home with me.

—Which home?

He froze.

I continued:

—Your villa?

—My furniture is gone.

—My access card was returned.

—The engagement banquet was canceled.

I looked directly at him.

—What exactly do you think I’m going back for?

His face changed.

—You canceled it permanently?

—Yes.

—Without discussing it with me?

That was almost funny.

—You were taking another woman to Sanya on our engagement day.

—You told me to postpone it.

—I simply understood your priorities.

His jaw tightened.

—Dao Dao was unwell.

Luc Ky finally spoke.

—Then perhaps you should continue taking care of Miss Tong.

His tone was gentle.

That somehow made Ha Tu Hanh angrier.

—This is between me and my fiancée.

I removed my phone.

Opened the message from the hotel.

And showed him the cancellation confirmation.

—Former fiancée.

Silence spread around us.

Tong Dao’s face became pale.

Ha Tu Hanh stared at the screen.

—To Niem, stop making decisions while angry.

—I’m not angry anymore.

That answer seemed to frighten him.

Because he knew me.

For eight years, I had screamed only when I still wanted him to understand.

I had cried because I still cared.

I had argued because I still believed something could be repaired.

Now I felt nothing.

Luc Ky quietly asked:

—Ready to meet Director Zhao?

I nodded.

—Yes.

Then I walked away.

Ha Tu Hanh did not stop me.

Maybe there were too many people watching.

Maybe he still believed I would eventually return.

That illusion survived for another three days.

Then he came back to the villa.

The house was almost empty.

The bookshelf I bought was gone.

The dining table was gone.

The paintings were gone.

Even the coffee machine had disappeared because I had paid for it.

The house was not ruined.

It simply looked like what it had been before I moved in.

A beautiful building without warmth.

His mother arrived that evening.

She called me immediately.

—Niem Niem, what happened between you two?

—Ask your son.

—I already did! He said you were angry because he accompanied Tong Dao on a trip.

I smiled.

—Then he has already explained it perfectly.

His mother went silent.

Then asked quietly:

—Are you really canceling the marriage?

—Yes.

This time, she did not tell me to be understanding.

Perhaps because she finally realized there would be no wedding for her to save.

Meanwhile, my studio received the biggest opportunity we had had since opening.

At the banquet, Director Zhao had seen my work.

His company was preparing costumes for an international stage production and needed a design partner.

The contract was worth enough to keep my studio running comfortably for two years.

Luc Ky introduced us.

But I won the project myself.

For three months, I barely had time to sleep.

And strangely, I had never felt more alive.

Ha Tu Hanh began appearing more often.

Flowers arrived at the studio.

Returned.

Designer bags.

Returned.

A luxury watch.

Returned.

Finally he came himself.

It was raining that day.

Almost exactly like the night everything ended.

He stood outside the studio without an umbrella.

When I finished work, I found him soaked.

For a moment, memories tried to pull me backward.

Eight years.

College.

Our first apartment.

The proposal.

The man who once crossed half the city because I said I wanted hot chestnuts.

Then I remembered another rainy night.

Four hours.

A fever.

Tong Dao dry in the passenger seat.

—Why are you here?

Ha Tu Hanh looked exhausted.

—You didn’t answer.

—That usually means someone doesn’t want to talk.

His voice became hoarse.

—I broke up with Tong Dao.

I stared at him.

—Why are you telling me?

He looked stunned.

—I thought—

—That was always the problem.

I interrupted.

—You thought everything related to her mattered to me.

He stepped closer.

—I made mistakes.

—Yes.

—I thought because we had been together eight years, you would understand.

I smiled faintly.

—And because I always understood, you stopped needing to consider me.

His face went still.

I continued:

—You postponed our engagement for her.

—You took her traveling.

—You cooked for her when I was sick in the same house.

—You left me alone in a car after I waited four hours for you in the rain.

My voice remained calm.

—None of those things individually ended us.

—What ended us was realizing that every time you had to choose whose feelings could wait, you chose mine.

He lowered his eyes.

—I can change.

—Maybe.

Hope flickered in his expression.

Then I finished:

—But I don’t need to stay and supervise the process.

Six months later, my studio opened a second office.

Luc Ky became an investor in one of our new projects.

People started gossiping that we were together.

We weren’t.

Not then.

He never pressured me.

Never asked me to use him to make Ha Tu Hanh jealous.

Never treated kindness as something I had to repay.

Almost a year after my engagement ended, Luc Ky invited me to dinner.

Not as his female companion.

Not as a business partner.

Just dinner.

I agreed.

Before leaving the studio that evening, I found a package on my desk.

No sender.

Inside was the proposal ring I had left behind.

There was also a note from Ha Tu Hanh.

I finally understand why you didn’t take it. I’m sorry it took losing you to learn how badly I treated what I thought would always be mine.

I read it once.

Then closed the box.

I did not return the ring again.

I donated it anonymously to a charity auction.

That chapter had already cost me enough.

Two years later, my studio’s designs appeared in Paris for the first time.

After the show, I stood backstage surrounded by noise, fabric, cameras and exhausted assistants.

Luc Ky handed me a bottle of water.

—Congratulations, Designer To.

I smiled.

—Thank you, Professor Luc.

He laughed.

Outside, it had started raining.

I looked through the glass doors.

For a second, I remembered the woman who had once stood soaked beside a road for four hours, waiting for one man’s car to appear.

Back then, I thought love meant waiting.

Waiting for him to choose me.

Waiting for him to understand.

Waiting for him to return.

I know better now.

The night Ha Tu Hanh finally arrived, I thought the car brought the end of my future.

It didn’t.

It only showed me that the future I had been waiting for was never sitting in his passenger seat.

It was the life I built after I finally stopped waiting.