Thu Hương loved her name very much. From a young age, she had felt her name sounded very melodious.
Trương Dương Thu Hương.
Her father’s surname was Trương, her mother’s was Dương. Thu Hương meant ‘autumn fragrance,’ signaling the arrival of autumn.
Her parents gave her that name because she was born in early autumn.
She had a peaceful and smooth life throughout her youth.
Her parents were civil servants, her family was well-educated and respectable, and she herself studied diligently, always achieving good results.
Just one year after graduating and starting work, she married a young, talented doctor with a bright future from a top-tier hospital.
Three years into their marriage, they welcomed their first child, a beautiful and adorable baby girl.
Her small family was always harmonious, never having a single argument.
But just before their seventh wedding anniversary, she uncovered a secret her husband had always kept hidden.
It turned out that all these years had merely been a well-orchestrated play, meticulously written by him, leaving her to be deceived like a pathetic fool in other people's gossip.
Minh Nhật returned home after 24 continuous hours of work without rest.
He was exhausted, his head feeling a little dizzy.
Originally, he was only supposed to be on call for one night, but a patient developed dangerous complications, requiring all the doctors in the department to gather for a consultation lasting many hours.
Upon arriving home, he saw his wife sitting on the sofa in the living room. He walked over, lay down with his head on her lap, closed his eyes, and absorbed the fresh, cool scent of her, feeling a sense of peace wash over him.
He rubbed his forehead, feigning extreme exhaustion, and said, “Hương, could you massage my head a little? I’m so tired.”
“Let’s get a divorce,” she said, not reaching out to gently massage him as she usually did, but instead uttering such a cold statement.
“Hmm…” He hadn't heard her clearly, mumbled a sound, then suddenly sat bolt upright in alarm. “Hương, what did you just say?”
“I said, let – us – get – a – di – vorce,” she enunciated each word forcefully.
Only then did Minh Nhật look at his wife in shock. Her eyes were swollen, likely from crying for too long, and her complexion was haggard. A woman who usually cared so much about her appearance had left her hair disheveled and untied.
What’s more, her long, jet-black, smooth hair, which he always loved to run his fingers through, was now unevenly cut, short in some places and long in others.
They had been married for seven years, but this was the first time he had seen her in such distress.
“Hương, what’s wrong? Why are you talking about divorce out of the blue? Don’t scare me, I, I…” he stammered, too shocked to continue.
“Don’t call my name anymore. Hearing you say my name makes me sick.
The papers are on the table. Sign them.”
“I won’t sign. We’re doing so well, why divorce? We’re about to celebrate our seventh wedding anniversary, our daughter is almost four, our family is so harmonious, why divorce?”
“Seven years of marriage? Did you marry me, or did you marry someone named Trương Dương Thu Hương, exactly like your first love? I can’t hate the name my parents gave me, but I can certainly hate you.”
“I…” Minh Nhật hesitated, then immediately shook his head repeatedly and said, “No, listen to me explain. I don’t know who told you what. But things aren’t what you think, I… I…”
“Too surprised to come up with an excuse, are we?” Thu Hương cut him off.
“It’s not like that. I’m sorry you had to find out about this from someone else. But she and I have no relationship anymore. I love you, I love our family,” he said, gripping her hand tightly, his eyes filled with sincerity.
“You love me? Or rather, you love my name.”
“He said he liked my beans in tomato sauce, wasn’t that the dish he and his first love ate all through college? He said he liked my long, straight hair, wasn’t that because his first love also wore her hair like that? For seven years, I’ve lived like an idiot, tricked by him and foolishly boasting about it.
Looking back, it was all a big joke.” She couldn’t hold back her emotions anymore, she burst out in a long tirade, tears streaming down her face.
Minh Nhật reached out to wipe her tears, but she pushed his hand away, turning her face, trying to compose herself.
“Hương, listen to me. In the beginning, yes, I was selfish, but later, I gradually let go of my old feelings. I fell in love with you. Now, you are the one I love, the mother of my child, my legal wife.” Minh Nhật tried to explain as concisely as possible, afraid she wouldn’t listen.
“Not for long. Whether you sign or not is up to you. If you sign, express mail it to my office. If you don’t, I’ll file for unilateral divorce, it’ll just take a little longer to wait. I’m giving you one week to sign. If you don’t send it back, I’ll file the petition myself. The court will definitely grant me custody of our child, just you wait and see.”
After saying that, she pushed him away, stood up, and pulled her suitcase out of the house.
Minh Nhật hurried after her, and the two of them struggled again in front of the elevator.
“Hương, please, don’t be so heartless. We’re doing so well. Do you want our child to grow up in a single-parent family? Don’t do this, please…” he pleaded, holding her hand tightly, preventing her from leaving.
“Let go! If you don’t let go, don’t blame me.”
She looked at him coldly, her eyes no longer gentle like a still lake, no longer holding any room for him.
Then she pulled a switchblade from her pocket. He thought she would point it at him, but she pressed it against her own neck. It was her self-defense weapon, as she often had to come home late from work. It looked small but was extremely sharp. Her neck skin was delicate; he saw blood welling up at the tip of the blade.
“Alright, I’ll let go. Don’t get agitated, don’t hurt yourself.” He quickly released her hand, stepped back several paces, and tried to calm her.
“Further away. Don’t follow me,” she growled.
Minh Nhật continued to back away, now a considerable distance from her.
He said anxiously, “Put the knife down, please. Don’t hurt yourself.”
Only then did she lower the knife, continuing to watch the digital display above the elevator door, waiting for her floor.
The elevator arrived. She stepped in and pressed the door-close button hard. He rushed to the elevator, but it was too late to get in, so he ran for the stairs.
She went down to the basement to get her motorbike, revved the engine, and sped off. She, who always walked calmly and meticulously obeyed traffic laws, even ran a red light today. She drove like a demon possessed, fleeing the apartment building where they lived. The wind lashed her face, stinging, but she felt nothing. Perhaps her heart was in too much agony to feel any other pain.
Minh Nhật got into his car and chased after her, but she was on a motorbike and he was in a car, so he couldn’t weave through the alleys and narrow streets she took. He angrily punched the steering wheel, called her, but she didn’t pick up. Finally, he lost sight of her.
Avoiding him, she drove aimlessly down the road. She didn’t know how long she had been driving, but eventually, she stopped on a large bridge spanning the river that encircled the city. The wind stirred ripples on the river’s surface, but it couldn’t blow away the sorrows in her heart. She buried her head on the bridge railing and sobbed, oblivious to what was happening around her. Passersby looked at her curiously. Some approached cautiously, while others whispered and gossiped.
“What’s going on? Is someone trying to jump off the bridge again?”
“Probably. That girl has been crying here for a long time.”
“Someone call the police. Don’t let her do anything foolish.”
A moment later, traffic police quickly arrived. They spoke to her gently: “Hello, ma’am. We’re from Traffic Police Team No. 5. May we ask if you need any assistance?”
Thu Huong didn’t look up, only waved her hand, choked up, and said, “I’m fine… I’m fine…”
“The spot you’re standing in is very dangerous. Please come down first. If you have any difficulties, we will help you within the scope of our duties.”
“That’s right, dear. Don’t do anything foolish. Come down, and we can sort things out slowly,” a girl in the curious crowd spoke up.
“Come down, child. Don’t do anything foolish; your parents at home will worry terribly,” another middle-aged person added.
Thu Huong looked up, wiped away her tears, placed a hand on the bridge of her nose, and took a deep breath to steady her emotions.
As soon as she stepped down, an officer came forward and gently led her away from the bridge railing.
“Do you have any relatives here? We can help you call someone to pick you up. It’s very dangerous for you to be out alone right now.”
She shook her head.
She had no relatives in this city apart from him and their daughter.
Their daughter, Bé Dau, was at daycare right now. Her paternal grandparents usually picked her up and looked after her because both he and she were busy.
The little girl didn’t even know her parents were about to divorce.
And him, a husband who was unfaithful in his thoughts – how could he be called a relative?
“Or friends would be fine too. If you still don’t have anyone, please tell us your home address, and we’ll take you back.”
She shook her head again: “I’m sorry, I don’t have a home.”
That’s right, she had nothing in this city.
No close friends, only superficial colleagues.
She had no home, nowhere to go.
“Alright then, we’ll take you to the ward office first. Once you’ve calmed down, you can go home on your own, right?”
Perhaps they wouldn’t let her go home by herself even if she wanted to, so she simply nodded and followed them.
It was for the best; she needed a place to calm down and figure out what to do next.
Minh Nhat was driving to every possible location when he heard an update on the traffic radio channel: a girl carrying a suitcase was standing on the bridge, crying loudly, causing a traffic jam due to many onlookers. Vehicles passing through this area were advised to be careful.
Panicked, he immediately turned his car around and drove straight to that bridge.
The road was jammed from the start of the bridge, so he abandoned his car and frantically ran onto the bridge.
But when he arrived, she was no longer there.
Fearing the worst, he went frantic:
“Huong? Huong, where are you? Where’s my wife? Has anyone seen my wife? She’s about this tall, wearing a white shirt and a black skirt. Please, tell me what happened to her!”
His voice was hoarse and cracking; he could no longer keep his composure.
The crowd thinned out, and someone told him that the police had taken the girl to the ward office.
He then rushed to the ward office, where the officer on duty confirmed the incident but said the girl had already left.
…
After leaving the ward office, Thu Huong went to the daycare to pick up her daughter.
The little girl’s teacher said, quite surprised:
“Oh, Dau’s mom is picking her up early today? Dau, come on, let’s go home with Mommy!”
“Mommy!”
Her daughter quickly scurried out and threw herself into her arms, hugging her neck and then kissing her cheek, her voice sweet as candy: “I love you the most, Mommy!”
Then the little girl used her small hands to cup her mother’s face, looked at her for a moment, and asked, “Mommy, why are your eyes red? Were you crying?”
She swallowed her tears, stroked her daughter’s head, and said, “No, my love, it’s just that some dust flew into Mommy’s eyes, that’s why they’re red.”
“Oh, I see. Does it hurt, Mom? I’ll blow the dust away for you,” the little girl said, puckering her lips and blowing on her.
“Good girl. Say goodbye to your teachers so we can go home,” she praised, kissing her daughter.
“Goodbye, Teacher Ngoc, goodbye, Teacher Lan, goodbye everyone, I’m going home now,” little Dau said obediently, folding her arms in a respectful greeting.
She held her daughter’s hand, asked the teacher for a few days off for her, then took her to the bus station to go to her maternal grandparents’ village.
“Where are we going, Mom? Are we going very far?”
“To Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Do you like that?”
“Oh, I love it! I like going to the market with Grandma, and I also like fishing with Grandpa. Grandma and Grandpa have a fluffy dog too. I miss Grandma and Grandpa this much!” the little girl said, spreading her tiny arms wide to demonstrate, looking very adorable.
“Yes, Mom misses Grandma and Grandpa too.”
This morning, she had informed her workplace that she wanted to take a few days off for family matters. Since it was unpaid leave, she didn’t face any trouble.
That’s why she now felt at ease taking her daughter back to her hometown.
…
“Mom, have you picked up Dau yet? Could you pick her up a bit early today for me?” Minh Nhat called his mother while driving.
“What’s wrong? She hasn’t finished school yet. Is something wrong?”
“My wife and I had a bit of an issue. It’s a long story, but in short, please just pick up Dau and bring her home. I’m afraid she might take the child somewhere, and then it would be a problem.”
“Okay, okay, I’m on my way.”
A little later, his mother called back to report that the teacher said little Dau had already been picked up by her mother early that afternoon.
He angrily tossed his Bluetooth headset aside again.
Now that she’d picked up their child and left, where was he supposed to find her? He had already searched every possible place.
A thought flashed through his mind. He immediately called his in-laws in the countryside.
“What is it, son? You have time to call me today?” his mother-in-law asked with a smile when she saw her son-in-law calling.
“Mom, if my wife Huong comes back to the village, please tell me. My wife and I are having some problems; she wants a divorce. Please, Mom, for my sake and for Dau’s sake, try to help us reconcile. I’m begging you, Mom,” he hastily explained the situation.
“What? Divorce? What happened to you two?” his mother-in-law was also startled. Her daughter and son-in-law had always gotten along very well. What serious matter could lead to a demand for divorce?
“It’s a very long story. I’ll come back and explain everything to you both later. Please, Mom, if you see her come back, tell me. She picked up Dau and left. I don’t know where she went, I just assume she’s gone back to her hometown. I’m still looking for her out here. Or perhaps you could cook a meal for her and Dau, so they’ll have something to eat when they arrive, Mom.”
“Okay, okay, if she comes back, I’ll tell you.”