Three days after leaving the Lu family villa, I disappeared from Beijing.

Not because I wanted revenge.

Not because I wanted Luc Canh Tham to regret his decision.

I simply wanted to return to the person I had abandoned for three years.

Myself.

The plane took off at midnight.

I sat beside the window, watching the city lights become smaller and smaller.

Beijing had given me everything.

And then it had taken everything away.

Three years ago, when I married Luc Canh Tham, everyone said I was lucky.

The heir of the Lu family had chosen me.

A woman with no powerful background.

No famous surname.

No wealthy family behind me.

People said I had won a battle that countless women wanted to win.

But nobody knew the truth.

I never wanted to win against anyone.

Especially not To Van.

Because from the beginning, I knew there was someone else in his heart.

The woman everyone called his first love.

His white moonlight.

The woman he could never forget.

I just didn’t expect that one day he would look at me and realize…

I was only temporary.

When I arrived in Switzerland, nobody knew me as Mrs. Lu.

Nobody whispered behind my back.

Nobody compared me to another woman.

For the first time in years, I could breathe.

My new apartment was small.

Nothing like the Lu family’s villa.

But the sunlight entered through the windows every morning.

And that was enough.

One month later, news from Beijing reached me.

Luc Canh Tham and To Van had not gotten married.

Everyone expected it.

But they didn’t.

Instead, the Lu family suddenly announced that their heir had disappeared from public events.

No business meetings.

No social gatherings.

No interviews.

I ignored it.

At least, I tried to.

Until one day, I received a package.

No sender.

Inside was an old notebook.

My notebook.

The one I lost before leaving.

I opened it slowly.

The first pages contained my memories of my marriage.

The day Luc Canh Tham took me to dinner.

The first time he cooked for me.

The night he held my hand after his grandmother’s funeral.

Back then, I believed he cared.

Maybe he did.

Maybe somewhere in those three years, he truly loved me.

But love that arrives too late is still too late.

At the end of the notebook was a message.

Only one sentence.

“Can you really disappear so easily?”

I stared at those words.

Because I knew who wrote them.

Luc Canh Tham.

That night, my phone rang.

A number from Beijing.

I didn’t answer.

It rang again.

And again.

Finally, I picked up.

Silence.

Then his voice.

“Khuong Van.”

I closed my eyes.

Three months.

Three months since I heard him call my name.

“What do you want?”

A long pause.

“Where are you?”

I smiled slightly.

“Does it matter?”

His breathing became heavier.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Another silence.

Then he said:

“Because I realized something.”

I didn’t respond.

“I thought you left because you wanted to punish me.”

A pause.

“But you left because you stopped waiting for me.”

Those words surprised me.

Because they were the first honest words he had ever spoken.

I looked out at the Swiss lake.

“Luc Canh Tham.”

“Yes?”

“When I asked for a favor during the divorce, do you remember what you promised?”

He became silent.

Of course he remembered.

I had asked him to owe me one favor.

Not money.

Not property.

Not anything material.

Only one promise.

A promise that I could use whenever I wanted.

“I remember.”

I smiled.

“Good.”

“Then I want to use it now.”

His voice immediately became serious.

“What do you want?”

I looked at the peaceful lake outside my window.

“I want you to stop looking for me.”

Silence.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then I heard his voice.

“Khuong Van…”

But I ended the call.

Because for the first time…

I was the one choosing not to listen.

Back in Beijing, Luc Canh Tham held the phone for a long time.

The man who had always controlled every situation finally understood something.

The divorce was not the moment he lost me.

The moment he lost me was much earlier.

It was when he assumed I would always remain.

Meanwhile, To Van returned to the Lu family mansion.

She thought everything would finally return to how it was.

But she was wrong.

Because Luc Canh Tham was no longer the man who waited for her.

He was a man searching for someone who had already left.

One evening, his grandmother’s old assistant visited him.

She placed an old envelope on the table.

“Your grandmother left this before she passed away.”

Luc Canh Tham frowned.

“Why didn’t you give it to me before?”

“Because she said you would only understand after losing something important.”

His hands froze.

Inside was a letter.

His grandmother’s handwriting.

“Canh Tham.”

“If you are reading this, it means you have already hurt the person who loved you most.”

His expression changed.

“I chose Khuong Van for you, not because she was convenient.”

“Not because she was obedient.”

“Because she was the only person who could stand beside you without wanting anything from you.”

“One day, you will meet many beautiful people.”

“But remember.”

“The person who stays beside you when nobody knows your name is the person you should protect.”

Luc Canh Tham stopped reading.

Because suddenly he remembered everything.

The late nights when I waited for him.

The meals that became cold.

The moments when he talked about To Van without noticing my expression.

The times I smiled and said:

“It’s okay.”

But it was never okay.

I had simply been waiting for him to notice.

And he never did.

Months later, Beijing newspapers reported a shocking change.

The Lu family’s heir had stepped away from several positions.

Nobody understood why.

Only Luc Canh Tham knew.

Because the woman he thought was replaceable…

was the only person who had never tried to replace him.

As for me?

I stayed in Switzerland.

I started a new company.

Built a new life.

And slowly forgot the sound of his voice.

Years later, when someone asked me if I regretted marrying Luc Canh Tham…

I smiled.

“No.”

“Because without that marriage, I would never have learned how strong I could become.”

And somewhere in Beijing, Luc Canh Tham finally understood.

The hardest person to find…

is not the person who disappears.

It is the person who was standing beside you all along…

and you were too blind to see her.