The moment Phuong Le’s face appeared on the phone screen, the entire table became silent.
She looked tired.
Behind her was an unfamiliar office.
“Du Du, did you finish eating?”
The little girl nodded quickly.
“Mom, I ate.”
Phuong Le smiled.
“Good girl.”
Then her eyes moved across the screen.
She noticed the people sitting around the table.
My parents.
Luc Xuyen.
And finally…
Me.
For a second, her expression changed.
Not surprise.
Not anger.
Just a complicated silence.
“Giang Tram.”
I didn’t know what to say.
After more than a year of divorce, this was the first time we had looked at each other directly.
Through a phone screen.
In front of everyone.
“Long time no see.”
Her voice was calm.
Too calm.
I forced myself to nod.
“Yes.”
A strange feeling appeared in my chest.
Because this woman used to cry when we argued.
She used to wait for me to come home.
She used to ask me why I was always too busy for our daughter.
But now…
She looked like someone who had already walked out of that pain.
My mother looked at the screen.
“Phuong Le, why didn’t you tell us Du Du was studying here?”
Phuong Le smiled faintly.
“There was no need.”
My father frowned.
“No need?”
“She is our granddaughter.”
Phuong Le looked down for a moment.
Then answered softly:
“She is also my daughter.”
The sentence was simple.
But everyone at the table understood the meaning.
I lowered my eyes.
Because suddenly I remembered something.
After our divorce, I had told myself:
“Du Du will be fine.”
“She has her mother.”
“I’ll see her when I have time.”
I thought providing money was enough.
I thought being a father meant paying school fees, buying gifts, and appearing on important days.
But now I realized something.
A child doesn’t only need someone to provide.
They need someone who stays.
The phone suddenly moved.
Du Du held it closer.
“Mom, Grandma bought me dresses.”
Phuong Le smiled.
“Did you like them?”
The little girl nodded.
“Grandma said I look like you when you were young.”
My mother’s eyes became red.
She looked at Du Du.
“I just want to buy something for my granddaughter.”
Phuong Le was silent for a moment.
Then she said:
“Thank you.”
Those two words were polite.
But distant.
Not like family.
And I knew why.
Because after the divorce, my parents chose silence.
They never asked how Phuong Le and Du Du were doing.
They never visited.
They assumed because I was their son, they should stand on my side.
But they forgot one thing.
The child was innocent.
After the call ended, Luc Xuyen stood up.
“Du Du, let’s go.”
I suddenly called him.
“Wait.”
Everyone looked at me.
Luc Xuyen stopped.
For years, he had been my best friend.
The person who knew every mistake I made.
But he never judged me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looked at me.
“Tell you what?”
“That you were taking care of Du Du.”
Silence.
Then Luc Xuyen smiled slightly.
“Would you have listened?”
The question left me speechless.
Because I knew the answer.
During the first months after divorce, I was busy building my new family with Lam Vy.
I told myself Du Du was adapting.
I told myself children were stronger than adults thought.
But maybe…
I was just finding excuses.
Luc Xuyen looked at Du Du.
“She needed someone to come to her parent-teacher meeting.”
“She called me.”
My heart tightened.
“She called you?”
He nodded.
“Last year.”
“She asked if I could come because her father was busy.”
The words struck me.
Last year.
Not once.
Not twice.
She had asked someone else.
Because she had stopped expecting me.
I looked at Du Du.
“Why didn’t you call Dad?”
The little girl lowered her head.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she answered quietly:
“Because Dad is always busy.”
The restaurant became completely silent.
I felt like someone had pressed a heavy stone against my chest.
Because those were words from a child.
Not an accusation.
Not anger.
Just a fact.
Lam Vy gently touched my arm.
“Giang Tram…”
I looked at her.
She hesitated.
Then softly said:
“Maybe you should spend more time with Du Du.”
I was surprised.
I expected jealousy.
I expected her to avoid the situation.
But she didn’t.
She looked at Du Du with kindness.
And suddenly I realized…
The woman I chose was good to me.
But the person I abandoned was my own daughter.
That night, after everyone left, I sat alone in my car.
I opened my phone.
There were dozens of photos of Hien Hien from the parent-teacher meeting.
Photos I proudly sent to Lam Vy.
Then I searched for Du Du’s name.
Only three photos appeared.
Three.
One from her birthday.
One from a school event.
One from more than half a year ago.
I stared at the screen.
My daughter had grown.
Her hair was longer.
Her face was thinner.
And I didn’t know when she stopped smiling around me.
At that moment, my phone received a message.
From an unknown number.
I opened it.
It was a photo.
Du Du sitting beside Luc Xuyen.
He was helping her with homework.
Below the photo was a sentence:
“Thank you for taking care of the daughter I failed to protect.”
My fingers froze.
Because I recognized the sender.
Phuong Le.
My ex-wife.
For the first time after our divorce…
She wasn’t blaming me.
She wasn’t asking me to come back.
She was simply telling me the truth.
And the truth hurt more than any argument we ever had.
I had spent a year proving I could be a good husband to someone else.
But I forgot the most important role I ever had.
Being Du Du’s father.
