Khuong Hao Ngon carried Khuong Nhuyen Nhuyen away.
The door closed.
And for the first time in five years…
I didn’t chase after them.
I didn’t apologize.
I didn’t explain.
I didn’t beg him to understand my pain.
I simply stood there, looking at the broken pieces of my mother’s bracelet scattered across the floor.
The blood from my finger slowly dripped onto the jade fragments.
Strangely, I didn’t cry.
Maybe because I had already cried too much.
Five years.
Five years of trying to become the perfect wife.
Five years of telling myself:
“He is only tired.”
“He is only confused.”
“He will come back.”
But tonight, something inside me finally disappeared.
Not love.
Not anger.
Hope.
That night, Khuong Hao Ngon didn’t come back.
Of course.
He was probably comforting Luc Nhien Nhien.
The woman who gave him the child he wanted.
The woman who understood him.
The woman who never caused trouble.
I sat alone in the dark bedroom.
Then I opened the old wooden box under the bed.
Inside were documents I had not touched for years.
The marriage agreement.
The contract he used to save my mother.
The agreement that made me believe I owed him my entire life.
Five million yuan.
That was the price of my mother’s treatment.
That was also the chain he used to bind me.
“Remember who saved your mother.”
I had heard that sentence countless times.
Every argument.
Every betrayal.
Every time I questioned him.
He reminded me.
As if saving my mother meant he owned me.
But he forgot something.
The five million was not charity.
It was a contract.
And now…
The contract was ending.
The next morning, I went to my lawyer.
When he saw me, he was surprised.
“Mrs. Khuong?”
I placed the documents on the table.
“I want to terminate the marriage agreement.”
He carefully read through everything.
Then he looked at me.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
“Your husband may fight.”
“I know.”
“He has resources.”
“I know.”
The lawyer was silent for a moment.
Then he asked:
“Why now?”
I looked out the window.
Because yesterday, I lost a bracelet.
But what I really lost…
was the last reason I stayed.
“Because I finally realized I was not his wife.”
I smiled faintly.
“I was only someone repaying a debt.”
Three days later, Khuong Hao Ngon came home.
He looked exhausted.
But not guilty.
That surprised me.
He still believed I would eventually apologize.
He placed his keys on the table.
“Are you calmer now?”
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
He nodded, satisfied.
“Good. Then bring Nhuyen Nhuyen home.”
I almost laughed.
Even now.
Even after everything.
He still thought the problem was my temper.
Not his betrayal.
Not his lover.
Not the child who destroyed my mother’s final gift.
Not the five years I endured.
“I won’t.”
His expression changed.
“What?”
“I said I won’t.”
Khuong Hao Ngon frowned.
“Lam Mat.”
His voice became colder.
“Don’t test my patience.”
I calmly placed a document in front of him.
He looked down.
His face froze.
Divorce agreement.
For several seconds, he didn’t move.
Then he laughed.
A short, disbelieving laugh.
“You are divorcing me?”
“Yes.”
“Because of a bracelet?”
I looked at him.
“No.”
“Because of Luc Nhien Nhien?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
I answered quietly:
“Because I finally stopped loving someone who never loved me the same way.”
The smile disappeared from his face.
For the first time, Khuong Hao Ngon looked frightened.
Not angry.
Not annoyed.
Afraid.
“Lam Mat…”
I had never heard him call my name like that.
Not with impatience.
Not with disappointment.
With panic.
“You don’t mean this.”
I lowered my eyes.
“I do.”
“You have nowhere to go.”
I looked at him.
That sentence.
The same confidence.
The same arrogance.
He still believed I was the woman who needed him.
So I opened my phone.
And showed him a message.
A bank notification.
His eyes narrowed.
“What is that?”
“My personal account.”
He stared.
Then his expression changed.
Because he finally saw the truth.
The wife who stayed home.
The wife who cooked.
The wife who cleaned.
The wife who looked like she depended on him…
Had never actually depended on him.
I had my own assets.
My own career.
My own life.
I just chose to sacrifice it for my family.
Not because I couldn’t survive.
Because I loved them.
But now…
I was done.
That evening, Luc Nhien Nhien called him.
I didn’t hear what she said.
But I saw his expression change.
Then he looked at me.
“She wants to talk to you.”
I smiled.
“Then go.”
He froze.
“You don’t care?”
“No.”
Five years ago, those words would have been impossible for me to say.
Now they came naturally.
“She is the person you chose.”
I picked up my bag.
“So choose her completely.”
I walked past him.
At the door, I stopped.
“Khuong Hao Ngon.”
He looked up.
“For five years, you kept telling me to understand.”
A pause.
“Today, I finally understand.”
His eyes turned red.
“What?”
I looked at him.
“That I deserve better.”
Then I left.
Behind me, for the first time in five years…
Khuong Hao Ngon was the one standing alone in the house.
