I looked at the ring on Nhuoc Ninh’s finger for only a second before turning away.
Giang Tram Uyen watched me carefully.
Perhaps he was waiting for anger.
Questions.
Tears.
Anything that would prove I still cared enough to fight.
Instead, I asked Nhuoc Ninh:
“Have you chosen a dress for the seventeenth?”
She blinked.
“The seventeenth?”
“Our wedding.”
The smile on her face stiffened.
Giang Tram Uyen frowned.
“An An.”
I ignored him.
“You’re my only sister. You should dress beautifully.”
Nhuoc Ninh looked at him instinctively.
That tiny movement was almost funny.
Even now, she needed to check his expression before answering me.
“I haven’t bought anything yet.”
“I’ll handle it.”
Giang Tram Uyen followed me into the kitchen.
“Why are you acting like this?”
I poured myself a glass of cold water.
His eyes immediately dropped toward it.
“You shouldn’t drink that. Your stomach—”
I drank half the glass in front of him.
He stopped speaking.
The refrigerator magnet he had commissioned for me was gone.
He noticed.
His expression changed.
“Where’s the magnet?”
“I threw it away.”
“Why?”
“It was taking up space.”
For some reason, those five words disturbed him more than any accusation could have.
He stepped closer.
“About Nhuoc Ninh…”
“There’s nothing to explain.”
“That proposal wasn’t real.”
I looked at him.
“You put a ring on another woman’s finger.”
“She was emotional.”
“So you proposed?”
“She wanted to know what it felt like.”
I almost laughed.
“And when I want to know what betrayal feels like, do I need to thank you for giving me such an authentic experience?”
His jaw tightened.
“An An, I told you I’ll explain everything after the mission.”
“No need.”
I smiled.
“You’ve already explained it with your actions.”
The following morning, I went to the wedding venue alone.
The coordinator greeted me with a stack of final documents.
“Miss, we only need to confirm the bride’s name for the welcome board, seating chart and ceremony screen.”
I looked at the blank line.
Then I wrote:
Lam Nhuoc Ninh.
The coordinator stared at me.
“Excuse me?”
“The bride has changed.”
Her mouth opened.
I smiled.
“Everything else stays exactly the same.”
Flowers.
Tables.
Guests.
Music.
Even the groom.
Only the bride would be different.
Afterward, I went to headquarters and submitted my transfer request.
A multinational peacekeeping and advanced training program had invited me months earlier.
I had rejected it because marrying Giang Tram Uyen meant building a life here.
This time, I signed.
Departure:
The seventeenth.
Wedding day.
My flight left at 10:40 a.m.
The ceremony began at noon.
Perfect.
On the morning of the wedding, Nhuoc Ninh knocked on my bedroom door.
She was wearing the pale champagne dress I had sent her.
“Sister, why did you buy me something this expensive?”
“Because today you should look beautiful.”
She studied my face.
“Aren’t you getting dressed?”
“My dress is already at the venue.”
That was true.
I had sent my wedding gown there the previous evening.
I just hadn’t told anyone I would never wear it.
At eight-thirty, I hugged my parents goodbye.
They thought I was going to the hotel early.
At nine, I turned off my phone.
At ten, I passed airport security.
And at 10:40, while the plane accelerated down the runway, I looked through the window at the city where I had loved one man for seven years.
I didn’t cry.
I simply whispered:
“I give him back to you.”
I later learned what happened at the wedding from my mother.
At eleven-forty, Giang Tram Uyen arrived in full dress uniform.
He noticed something was wrong immediately.
The giant screen behind the stage displayed two names:
GIANG TRAM UYEN & LAM NHUOC NINH
He stood beneath it for almost a minute.
Then he asked:
“Where is An An?”
No one knew.
Nhuoc Ninh walked into the hall ten minutes later.
When she saw her own name beside his, she apparently burst into tears.
Not tears of shame.
Tears of excitement.
She believed I had surrendered.
She walked toward Giang Tram Uyen and whispered:
“Maybe my sister finally understands that we’re the ones who love each other.”
He stared at her.
Then he asked one question.
“Where is she?”
Nhuoc Ninh’s smile disappeared.
My mother called me.
Phone off.
My father called.
Phone off.
Giang Tram Uyen called seventeen times.
Then thirty.
Then he contacted my unit.
That was when he learned my transfer had been approved.
And that my plane had already left the country.
He abandoned the wedding.
Nhuoc Ninh chased him into the parking lot.
She grabbed his sleeve and cried:
“You proposed to me!”
His answer became the sentence everyone remembered.
“And that was the worst thing I ever did.”
They never married.
Ironically, that knowledge gave me no satisfaction.
Whether they stayed together or destroyed each other had stopped being my concern the moment my plane took off.
Seven years passed.
I completed missions in three regions.
I earned two promotions.
I led field logistics teams, trained younger officers and learned that the world was far larger than the small circle in which I had once believed Giang Tram Uyen was irreplaceable.
Then I returned for the joint military exercise.
And there he was.
Standing across the banquet hall while people joked about his legendary loyalty to an “ex-girlfriend” he had supposedly waited seven years for.
I lowered my glass.
How absurd.
A man betrays you while you are beside him.
Then waits after you leave.
And suddenly everyone calls him faithful.
I was preparing to leave when someone behind me said:
“An An.”
My footsteps stopped.
Seven years.
His voice was still recognizable.
I turned.
Giang Tram Uyen stood less than three meters away.
For the first time that evening, the composed Major General looked completely shaken.
His eyes moved over my uniform.
My insignia.
My face.
As though confirming I was real.
“You’re back.”
“For the exercise.”
“How long?”
“Three weeks.”
His expression dimmed.
Only three weeks.
He stepped closer.
“I looked for you.”
“I know.”
“I wrote.”
“I know.”
“You never answered.”
“I know.”
The three identical answers finally silenced him.
His throat moved.
“Why?”
I looked at him calmly.
“Because there was nothing left to discuss.”
“An An, what happened seven years ago—”
“You were sleeping with my sister.”
His face tightened.
People nearby suddenly became very interested in their drinks.
I continued quietly.
“You proposed to her while engaged to me.”
“I never intended to marry her.”
I stared at him.
Then I laughed.
He looked confused.
“You still don’t understand why that sentence makes you worse, do you?”
His expression froze.
I stepped closer.
“If you loved her enough to betray me, then at least marrying her would have meant you destroyed us for something you believed in.”
He said nothing.
“But you didn’t even love her enough for that.”
My smile disappeared.
“You risked seven years with me simply because you enjoyed being loved by two women at once.”
His face went completely pale.
For seven years, perhaps he had invented more comforting explanations.
That Nhuoc Ninh pursued him.
That he had been confused.
That the proposal was meaningless.
That I left too quickly.
But beneath all those excuses was one ugly truth.
He had wanted both.
My stability.
Her adoration.
My future.
Her excitement.
And he assumed I would stay while he decided how much of each woman he wanted.
“I was wrong,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I regretted it every day.”
“That belongs to you.”
His eyes reddened.
“Are you married?”
I smiled slightly.
“No.”
Hope appeared so quickly that I almost felt sorry for him.
Then I added:
“But that doesn’t mean I’ve been waiting.”
The hope disappeared.
Someone called my rank from across the room.
My current commanding officer was waiting for me beside the delegation.
I turned to leave.
Giang Tram Uyen spoke behind me.
“An An.”
I stopped.
“If I had chosen you then…”
I looked back.
“You did choose.”
He fell silent.
“That’s the part you still refuse to accept.”
I looked directly into his eyes.
“Every time you protected Nhuoc Ninh from the truth, every time you lied to me, every time you took off my ring and put hers on—you chose.”
His shoulders seemed to sink.
“And on the seventeenth,” I continued, “I finally chose too.”
I walked away.
This time he didn’t follow me.
Seven years earlier, I had changed the bride’s name because I thought I was giving Giang Tram Uyen the woman he wanted.
Only later did I understand the truth.
I hadn’t given my fiancé to my sister.
I had given myself back my own life.
And that was the only wedding gift from that day that I never regretted.
