The moment the delivery-room doors closed, I stopped thinking about Luu Huy.

I couldn’t afford to.

My daughter’s heartbeat dropped twice.

The second time, the doctor’s expression changed so quickly that my mother nearly collapsed outside when she saw nurses rushing in.

For forty minutes, everyone prepared for an emergency operation.

And while my parents waited outside wondering whether their daughter and granddaughter would survive, my husband was one floor above us.

Feeding bird’s-nest soup to Lin Si Tu.

At 4:23 p.m., my daughter finally cried.

That tiny sound broke something inside me.

I cried too.

Not because I was scared anymore.

Because the moment the nurse placed her beside me, I suddenly understood what kind of mother I wanted to become.

I would never teach my daughter that a woman had to tolerate humiliation just to keep a family together.

When I returned to the ward, Trieu Lam was waiting beside my mother.

The gold-class nurse bowed her head.

—Mrs. On, I’m sorry.

I looked at the small black clip attached to her collar.

—What is that?

She removed it.

—A recorder.

My father immediately looked up.

Trieu Lam took out her phone.

—When Mr. Luu came to take me away this morning, I told him that my service agreement was with you and couldn’t be transferred without your consent.

She pressed play.

Luu Huy’s voice filled the room.

“Niem Niem won’t object for long. She always gives in eventually.”

Then Lin Si Tu’s soft voice appeared.

“But she’s giving birth today. What if something happens?”

Luu Huy laughed.

“She has good health. Stop worrying about her.”

My mother’s hand began trembling.

My father closed his eyes.

But the recording wasn’t finished.

Lin Si Tu asked:

“Then can I stay in the VIP room until I’m discharged?”

Luu Huy answered without hesitation.

“Stay as long as you want. I’ll deal with my wife.”

I stared at the ceiling.

Strangely, I wasn’t angry.

I was finished.

Trieu Lam continued:

—The hospital has already confirmed that the VIP room registration was changed without your signature. Mr. Luu told administration that you had personally agreed.

My father stood up.

—He forged her consent?

—The investigation is ongoing.

I looked at my father.

—Dad.

He immediately turned toward me.

—Call Attorney Chen.

My mother understood before anyone else.

—Niem Niem…

—I want a divorce.

This time, nobody told me to reconsider.

Luu Huy arrived at seven that evening.

He carried flowers in one hand.

His mother followed him.

Vuong Que Lan walked into the room smiling as if nothing had happened.

—See? Mother and baby are perfectly fine. Everyone made such a huge fuss for nothing.

Duong Duyet stood up immediately.

I stopped her.

I wanted to handle this myself.

Luu Huy walked toward the crib.

—Let me see my daughter.

I moved the crib away.

His face darkened.

—What are you doing?

I handed him an envelope.

—Divorce agreement.

For several seconds, he simply stared at it.

Then he laughed.

—You’re divorcing me because Tu Tu borrowed a room?

—No.

I looked directly at him.

—I’m divorcing you because while your wife was in labor, you knowingly took away the medical care her family arranged and gave it to another woman.

His mother’s smile disappeared.

—On Niem, don’t make trouble right after giving birth. Divorce is not something women should casually mention.

I ignored her.

Luu Huy threw the envelope onto the table.

—I won’t sign.

—That’s your choice.

I picked up my phone.

—Attorney Chen will contact you tomorrow.

His expression changed slightly.

—You’re serious?

—Very.

He lowered his voice.

—Fine. If you want a divorce, we’ll divide everything equally.

That almost made my father laugh.

I looked at Luu Huy.

—Divide what?

He frowned.

—The house. The car. The savings. Everything we built after marriage.

I slowly opened the folder beside me.

—The apartment was purchased by my parents two years before our wedding.

I placed the deed in front of him.

Only my name appeared on it.

—The BMW you drive belongs to my father’s company.

Another document.

—The villa your mother lives in is also owned by my mother’s investment company.

Vuong Que Lan’s face changed.

—What villa?

I looked at her.

—The house you’ve been telling everyone your son bought for you.

She turned toward Luu Huy.

He didn’t speak.

I continued.

—And your company.

This time, he froze.

My father took out a contract.

—Five years ago, your business was thirty days from bankruptcy. You asked me for three million yuan.

Luu Huy stared at him.

—That was an investment.

—No.

My father placed the contract on the table.

—It was a secured loan.

Luu Huy’s face slowly lost color.

He had signed without reading carefully.

The three million yuan was secured against thirty-eight percent of his company shares.

And the loan had expired eighteen months earlier.

Three repayment notices had already been sent.

All ignored.

Vuong Que Lan finally panicked.

—But we’re family!

My father looked at her coldly.

—Your son remembered family very clearly today.

Nobody spoke.

Then Luu Huy’s phone rang.

He answered.

His expression changed within seconds.

—What?

He walked toward the window.

—Why would they withdraw funding?

Silence.

—Which investor?

He turned slowly toward my father.

I knew exactly what he had just learned.

The largest outside investor in his company—the one that had saved him repeatedly during his most difficult years—was a fund controlled by my mother’s group.

My family hadn’t invested because Luu Huy was extraordinary.

They had invested because I loved him.

And now that the company had failed its financial review and defaulted on a secured loan, the fund was exercising its contractual exit rights.

Luu Huy lowered the phone.

For the first time that day, fear appeared in his eyes.

—Niem Niem…

—Don’t.

—I didn’t know things would become this serious.

I smiled.

That sentence said everything.

He wasn’t sorry that I had almost faced childbirth without the care my family arranged.

He was sorry that his decisions had consequences.

Three months later, our divorce was finalized.

He tried to delay it.

Then Trieu Lam’s recording, the hospital records and the forged transfer authorization entered the case file.

He signed.

The apartment remained mine.

The car was returned.

His mother moved out of the villa.

His company survived, but only after he sold most of his shares to repay the loan.

As for Lin Si Tu?

She disappeared the week his financial problems became public.

Apparently, the “poor widow who needed protection” didn’t need Luu Huy anymore once he had no VIP rooms, luxury cars or money to offer.

Six months later, he waited for me outside my office.

He looked thinner.

—Niem Niem, can we start over?

I looked at him.

—Why?

His eyes reddened.

—I finally understand that I was wrong.

—No.

I adjusted my coat.

—You finally understand what your mistake cost you.

Then I walked past him.

That evening, I returned home and found my daughter asleep in my mother’s arms.

I carried her to the window.

The city lights reflected in the glass.

On the day she was born, Luu Huy thought I was the woman who would always understand him.

Always compromise.

Always forgive.

He was right about one thing.

I had been that woman for years.

But the moment I heard my daughter’s first cry, that woman disappeared.

He gave my delivery room to his first love because he thought I would endure it.

Instead, I gave him the divorce papers—and took back every single thing my love had once placed in his hands.