CHAPTER V: GIVING AND THEN LOSING
1086 Words
From that moment on, Te Mac and Nhuoc Nhuoc became strangers in the truest sense of the word. They walked past each other every day, close enough to hear one another breathe, yet distant as if separated by an invisible wall. Their eyes no longer met. Their steps never slowed. To anyone watching, it seemed as though they had never shared anything at all.
But only Nhuoc Nhuoc knew the truth.
She still looked for him instinctively in every crowd. When she heard familiar footsteps behind her, her heart would tighten for a brief second before she forced herself to move on. She told herself it was over, that she should stop caring—but feelings, once rooted, did not disappear so easily.
One evening, rain fell without warning.
Te Mac had just left the school building when he noticed a familiar figure sitting beneath the shelter across the street. Nhuoc Nhuoc sat quietly, knees drawn close, staring at the rain as if she were waiting for it to wash something away. The sight made his chest ache.
This was the chance he had been waiting for.
He took a breath, steadied himself, and walked toward her.
“Nhuoc Nhuoc.”
She looked up. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The rain filled the silence between them, loud yet distant. He slowly sat down beside her, close enough to feel her presence, yet careful not to cross a line.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said finally.
She did not turn away. That alone gave him courage.
“She and I… we only share a past,” he continued. “Yes, we were together once. But whatever I felt for her ended a long time ago. It didn’t come back when she returned. It never did.”
His voice was calm, almost restrained, but beneath it lay something fragile and real. He wasn’t asking for forgiveness. He wasn’t begging. He was simply telling the truth.
Nhuoc Nhuoc listened in silence. Her fingers tightened around the edge of her sleeve. She wanted to doubt him—wanted to protect herself—but her heart betrayed her. Once again, she chose to believe him.
Perhaps because she had never truly stopped.
The next day, Ham Tu, Te Mac’s friend, noticed the subtle tension easing between them. Sensing an opportunity, he came up with an excuse.
“Te Mac’s sick,” he told Nhuoc Nhuoc casually. “He hasn’t eaten all day. Maybe you could bring him some porridge?”
She hesitated, but concern outweighed pride.
Early the following morning, Nhuoc Nhuoc arrived at Te Mac’s apartment with a container of warm porridge and some medicine. She raised her hand to knock—but the door opened before she could.
Standing there was Tham Mong.
She looked comfortable. Too comfortable.
“Why are you here?” Tham Mong asked coolly. “Te Mac is sleeping.”
The words struck deeper than they should have.
Nhuoc Nhuoc forced a small smile and handed her the bag.
“Please give this to him when he wakes up.”
She turned away without another word.
But when Te Mac woke up later that morning, it was Tham Mong he saw sitting in his living room.
“Why are you in my house?” he asked, confusion and irritation mixing in his voice.
“You never changed the door password,” she replied lightly.
Only then did he realize—she had never given him the porridge or the medicine.
That night, Te Mac messaged Nhuoc Nhuoc and asked her out the next day. She agreed immediately. To her, it felt like more than a meeting—it felt like hope.
She spent the night preparing, trying on clothes, cleaning her room in restless frustration, imagining what she might say, what he might say. She told herself not to expect too much, yet her heart refused to stay calm.
The next day, as Te Mac was finishing his work at school and preparing to leave, Tham Mong appeared in front of him once again.
“Te Mac,” she said, her voice trembling. “Back then, I only wanted a future. I didn’t tell you about leaving because I didn’t want to hurt you. For five years abroad, I never stopped thinking about you. Every moment, every night—I missed you.”
She stepped closer.
“Can you give me another chance? I won’t leave you again.”
Te Mac looked at her for a long time before answering.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “But I stopped loving you a long time ago. I already love someone else.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“You don’t understand. I suffered too. I endured everything alone. I held onto my pain in the dark.”
“And I endured being abandoned,” he replied, his voice firm. “You only thought about yourself. What we had ended years ago. Please stay away from me.”
He turned and walked away, leaving her behind in tears.
When he reached the meeting place, Nhuoc Nhuoc was already there—waiting.
But Tham Mong followed.
She clung to his arm, desperate, refusing to let go. Te Mac shouted at her, his patience finally gone. At that exact moment, Nhuoc Nhuoc saw everything.
She turned to leave.
Instinctively, Te Mac grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Before she could speak, before she could think, he kissed her.
It was sudden. Unplanned. Desperate.
A kiss born from confusion, fear, and unresolved feelings.
To Nhuoc Nhuoc, it felt like something she had waited for far too long. To Tham Mong, it was humiliation. She stormed away without another word.
That night, Nhuoc Nhuoc returned home and stared at the mess she had made—clothes scattered everywhere, dreams half-formed and now broken. Slowly, doubt crept in.
She began to believe that kiss wasn’t love.
It was an escape.
The next morning, outside the classroom, she finally asked him:
“That kiss last night… was it just an excuse to make Tham Mong leave?”
After a long pause, Te Mac nodded.
“Yes.”
That single word shattered everything.
She smiled faintly, turned away, and walked off without another glance. Because a kiss without sincerity hurt more than silence ever could.
From that day on, they both understood—
They had loved at the wrong time, taken the wrong step, and missed the one chance that might have changed everything.
- Writer
