“Yes, very important.”
For some reason, those three words made Luc Canh Xuyen’s chest tighten.
He looked at the ring again.
Plain silver.
Old.
There were scratches around the edge, and a tiny dent where it had clearly been struck against something hard.
It was not expensive.
It was not beautiful.
And it was definitely not the wedding ring he had given Tham Du.
“Who gave it to you?”
Tham Du closed her fingers around it.
“That has nothing to do with you.”
Luc Canh Xuyen’s face darkened.
“I’m your husband.”
She looked at him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then she smiled faintly.
“Are you?”
The question was quiet.
But it struck harder than any accusation.
Before he could answer, Lam Thi Am began gasping again from inside the car.
“Mr. Canh Xuyen…”
Luc Canh Xuyen instinctively turned around.
That single movement was enough.
Tham Du stepped back.
“Go.”
“Tham Du—”
“She needs you.”
She looked at Lam Thi Am.
Then at him.
“She always does.”
Luc Canh Xuyen wanted to explain.
But Tham Du had already turned away.
He watched her walk alone toward the hospital.
Only when she disappeared around the corner did he realize something was wrong.
She had blood on her clothes.
She had just survived a landslide.
And he had left her by the roadside.
Again.
At the hospital, Tham Du went directly to obstetrics.
The doctor frowned after reviewing her results.
“You should have been resting.”
“I know.”
“The miscarriage wasn’t minor. Your body hasn’t recovered.”
Tham Du lowered her eyes.
The baby had been nine weeks old.
Luc Canh Xuyen didn’t know.
During the landslide, Tham Du had been trapped beneath a collapsed wooden structure.
When rescuers finally found her, she was barely conscious.
At the hospital, the doctor had told her the pregnancy could not be saved.
She had stared at the ceiling for hours.
But the strangest thing was that she hadn’t cried.
Perhaps because the tears had already run out when she was trapped beneath the rubble calling Luc Canh Xuyen’s name.
At the time, he had been nearby.
He had heard that both Tham Du and Lam Thi Am were trapped.
And he had chosen to reach Lam Thi Am first.
His reason was perfectly logical.
Lam Thi Am could not swim.
She had trauma.
She was emotionally unstable.
Tham Du was stronger.
Tham Du would understand.
Everyone always assumed Tham Du would understand.
So nobody asked what understanding cost her.
The doctor handed her the prescription.
“Someone should stay with you tonight.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You said that last time.”
A male voice suddenly came from the doorway.
“She won’t be alone.”
Tham Du froze.
She turned.
A tall man stood there in a dark coat.
His left arm was still supported by a medical brace.
There was a faint scar beside his eyebrow.
Tham Du stared at him.
“Gu Yan?”
He smiled.
“You still remember me.”
Her hand immediately closed around the silver ring.
Gu Yan noticed.
“You found it.”
Tham Du nodded.
For the second time that day, she smiled genuinely.
“I thought I lost it in the disaster area.”
“You nearly lost more than a ring.”
His voice became serious.
“You scared everyone.”
Tham Du looked away.
Gu Yan had been part of the civilian rescue team that entered the landslide zone after the first military evacuation.
When everyone had been ordered back because of another possible collapse, Gu Yan had returned.
He had heard something.
Three weak knocks from beneath the wreckage.
Tham Du.
The silver ring belonged to him.
He had used it to mark her wrist before leaving briefly to bring equipment.
“If another rescue team reaches you first,” he had told her, “show them this. They’ll know you’re the survivor at marker seventeen.”
Then he came back.
That was why the ring mattered.
Not because it was romantic.
Because when Tham Du believed everyone had chosen someone else…
one person had returned for her.
Luc Canh Xuyen arrived twenty minutes later.
He was carrying medicine for Lam Thi Am.
He stopped outside the consultation room.
Through the half-open door, he saw Gu Yan pouring warm water for Tham Du.
“You need to eat before taking these.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Then eat half.”
“No.”
Gu Yan calmly opened a container.
“Three bites.”
Tham Du frowned.
“You’re annoying.”
“Four.”
“Fine. Three.”
Luc Canh Xuyen stood motionless.
That conversation sounded painfully familiar.
Once, Tham Du had spoken to him like that.
Naturally.
Warmly.
Without measuring every word.
He pushed the door open.
“Tham Du.”
She looked up.
Her expression immediately became calm again.
The difference was so obvious that Luc Canh Xuyen felt something sink inside him.
Gu Yan stood.
“Regiment Commander Luc.”
“You know me?”
“We met at the rescue command post.”
Luc Canh Xuyen remembered him.
The civilian rescue captain who had argued with an officer because he wanted to re-enter an unstable area.
His eyes shifted to the ring.
“You gave her that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Gu Yan looked confused.
“Because we were rescuing her.”
Luc Canh Xuyen suddenly felt ridiculous.
He had imagined a rival.
Instead, the ring represented something worse.
It represented the moment another man had done what he had failed to do.
Go back for Tham Du.
Then Luc Canh Xuyen saw the medical report on the table.
His eyes stopped on two words.
Pregnancy loss.
His face went white.
“What is this?”
Tham Du reached for the document.
Too late.
Luc Canh Xuyen picked it up.
His fingers began trembling.
“You were pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“During the landslide.”
His lips parted.
No sound came.
“And the child…”
“Gone.”
Luc Canh Xuyen gripped the paper.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tham Du stared at him.
“I tried.”
His expression froze.
“The morning we entered the disaster area, I called you.”
Memory struck him.
Her call.
He had rejected it because Lam Thi Am was having a panic episode.
Later, Tham Du had sent a message.
We need to talk when you have time.
He had replied:
Not now. Thi Am needs me.
Luc Canh Xuyen stumbled backward.
Tham Du continued quietly.
“After I was rescued, I called again.”
He remembered that too.
He had been sitting beside Lam Thi Am’s hospital bed.
He had silenced the phone.
“I thought…”
“I know.”
Her voice was almost gentle.
“You thought I would understand.”
Those words destroyed every excuse he had prepared.
That evening, Luc Canh Xuyen returned home alone.
For the first time, he noticed everything Tham Du no longer did.
No warm water.
No dinner.
No lamp.
No footsteps when his jeep entered the courtyard.
The house wasn’t angry with him.
It had simply stopped waiting.
On the table lay an envelope.
Inside were divorce papers.
And beneath them was a transfer request.
Tham Du had accepted a position with a medical relief organization in another province.
Departure date:
Friday.
Three days away.
Luc Canh Xuyen stared at the papers until the words blurred.
Then the door opened.
Tham Du entered.
She had come to pack.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
“You never discussed this with me.”
She looked at him.
“Neither did you when you left me in the disaster area.”
His face tightened.
“Don’t say it like that.”
“How should I say it?”
“Thi Am was in immediate danger.”
“And I wasn’t?”
He couldn’t answer.
Tham Du walked past him.
Luc Canh Xuyen caught her wrist, then immediately loosened his grip.
“Don’t go.”
Once, those words would have been enough.
Tham Du would have stayed.
She would have forgiven.
She would have convinced herself that his guilt meant love.
Now she simply asked:
“Why?”
“Because you’re my wife.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Because I love you.”
Tham Du was silent.
Then:
“Maybe you do.”
Hope flashed across his face.
She continued.
“But every time both of us needed you, you chose her.”
His face collapsed.
“You always had a reason.”
She nodded.
“She was weaker.”
“She was sick.”
“She was your teammate’s widow.”
“She needed protection.”
“And I was your wife, so I was supposed to understand.”
Tham Du gently removed his hand.
“I understood, Canh Xuyen.”
Her eyes were finally wet.
“That is why I’m leaving.”
Lam Thi Am came the next morning.
She cried.
She apologized.
She said she had never intended to destroy their marriage.
Tham Du listened quietly.
Then she said:
“I don’t blame you for asking.”
Lam Thi Am looked surprised.
“I blame the person who kept answering.”
Luc Canh Xuyen, standing behind her, closed his eyes.
There was nothing left to defend.
On Friday morning, Tham Du left the military compound with one suitcase.
Gu Yan was waiting beside the relief organization’s vehicle.
Not to take her away.
He was joining the same deployment as part of the rescue coordination team.
Luc Canh Xuyen arrived before they departed.
He did not stop her.
He only handed her a small box.
Inside was the necklace he had once given Lam Thi Am because she liked it.
“I bought it back.”
Tham Du closed the box.
Then returned it.
“I don’t want it anymore.”
His eyes reddened.
“Will you ever forgive me?”
She thought carefully.
“Probably.”
He looked up.
“But forgiveness doesn’t mean I’ll come back.”
Luc Canh Xuyen nodded slowly.
This time, he understood.
Tham Du climbed into the vehicle.
As it began moving, she looked down at the silver ring on her finger.
Gu Yan noticed.
“You can return that now.”
Tham Du smiled.
“No.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“It reminds me of something.”
“What?”
She looked through the window at the road opening ahead.
“That when someone truly wants to save you, they come back.”
Behind them, Luc Canh Xuyen grew smaller in the distance.
For years, Tham Du had believed love meant waiting.
Waiting beside a lamp.
Waiting through rain.
Waiting while another woman needed her husband more.
The landslide taught her something different.
Sometimes survival begins when you stop waiting for the person who left you behind.
And choose the road taken by the people who came back.
