Chapter 5
405 Words
Tieu An didn’t remember how she got home.
After the blood transfusion, she felt hollow. Not just physically, but in every part of her being.
He hadn’t even glanced her way at the hospital. Only at Tieu Nhi.
That night, she brewed him a cup of ginger tea. The weather was turning. He always got headaches when the temperature dropped.
She brought it to his study. The door wasn’t shut.
She was about to knock when she heard him speaking—softly, more gently than she’d ever imagined he could.
“I told her not to come… but she insisted. She’s weaker than before. If something like that happens again…”
It was his voice.
Followed by another—his family’s private doctor, perhaps.
“I understand. But the blood donor today… was your wife?”
A pause. A long one.
“Temporarily.”
Three syllables. And something inside her snapped.
The teacup in her hands trembled.
Temporarily.
She was his wife temporarily.
His replacement, temporarily.
Someone to use and forget.
A few days later, he left on a business trip. She didn’t ask where, or with whom—because she had no right to know.
But ironically, his face appeared in the entertainment news.
At a charity gala.
Beside Le Tieu Nhi.
They smiled. Perfect. Meant to be.
One photo showed him gently draping his coat over her shoulders.
A small gesture she had never once received in their three months of marriage.
The headline struck like a knife:
"Childhood Sweethearts of the Finance World – Could Old Flames Reignite?"
She closed the screen.
Silence.
That night, she cooked dinner as usual.
He didn’t mention the trip.
She served him a bowl of soup.
“The article wasn’t wrong. You two do look good together.” Her voice was light, not jealous—just honest.
He set his chopsticks down. Looked at her.
“What gives you the right to comment?”
She smiled faintly.
“You’re right. I’m just temporary.”
His eyes flickered—just for a moment. Then coldness returned.
“Good. As long as you understand.”
That night, she didn’t sleep.
It rained.
For the first time, she stepped out onto the balcony at midnight.
Alone.
She thought—if she jumped from here, would he see her… just once?
But she didn’t jump.
Because he hadn’t even held her hand.
And dying like this… would be too unfair.
- Writer
