Too Late To Know

The Day I Let You Go

It started raining before I even realized it.

At first, it was just a light drizzle, the kind that barely touched the ground before disappearing. The sky was still gray, heavy, like it had been holding something back for a long time.

Just like me.

I stood under the old streetlight near the university gate, my hands buried deep inside my coat pockets. The air was cold, but I barely felt it. There were too many things inside me, pressing, suffocating, leaving no room for anything else.

My phone screen lit up again.

Her name.

An Nhiên.

For a moment, I just stared at it, unmoving. My thumb hovered over the screen, but I didn’t answer.

I knew why she was calling.

I knew what she wanted to ask.

And I knew… if I heard her voice right now, everything I had decided would fall apart.

The call ended.

Then another one came.

And another.

Until finally, it stopped.

Silence.

The kind of silence that feels heavier than noise.

I exhaled slowly, my chest tightening as if something invisible was wrapping around it.

“She’ll be here soon.”

I whispered it to myself, like a reminder.

Or maybe a warning.

⸻

I saw her before she saw me.

She was running.

Through the rain that had now started to fall harder, her figure blurred by the thin curtain of water. Her hair clung to her face, her clothes soaked, but she didn’t slow down.

She never did.

Not when it came to me.

“Lâm Dịch Phong!”

Her voice cut through the rain, sharp and desperate.

I closed my eyes for a second.

Just one second.

Then I opened them again, forcing my expression to become something else. Something colder. Something that wasn’t me.

She stopped right in front of me, breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath.

“You… why didn’t you answer my calls?”

Her voice was trembling, but she was trying to sound angry.

Trying to hide the fear.

I didn’t say anything.

I just looked at her.

And that was my first mistake.

Because the moment our eyes met, everything inside me cracked.

Memories flooded in—laughing together under the sun, arguing over nothing, the way she used to smile at me like I was her entire world.

For a second, I almost reached out.

Almost.

But I clenched my fist instead.

“You wanted to talk,” I said flatly. “I’m here.”

She frowned.

“What’s wrong with you?”

The rain grew heavier, the sound of it hitting the ground, the pavement, our shoulders, becoming louder and louder.

“You’ve been avoiding me for weeks,” she continued, stepping closer. “You don’t pick up my calls, you don’t reply to my messages, and now you’re acting like this?”

Still, I said nothing.

Because if I spoke too much, I might say the wrong thing.

Or worse—

the truth.

“Dịch Phong… look at me.”

Her voice softened.

And that hurt even more.

I forced myself to keep my expression blank.

“I am.”

“No, you’re not.” She shook her head, her eyes searching mine. “You’re here, but you’re not really here.”

I swallowed.

Don’t look away.

Don’t hesitate.

Don’t break.

“What do you want?” I asked, my tone colder this time.

She froze.

The question hit her harder than I expected.

“What… do I want?”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips.

“I want to know what’s going on with you!”

Her voice rose, almost breaking.

“I want to know why you suddenly changed! I want to know what I did wrong!”

You did nothing wrong.

The words burned in my throat.

But I swallowed them.

Hard.

“You didn’t do anything,” I said.

“Then why?!”

She stepped closer again, grabbing onto my sleeve, her fingers cold and trembling.

“Why are you treating me like this?”

I looked down at her hand.

That hand…

had once held mine so tightly, like she was afraid I would disappear.

And now—

I was the one letting go.

I slowly pulled my arm away.

The moment I did, I felt it.

The shift.

Something between us… broke.

“I’m tired,” I said.

The words came out quieter than I expected.

But they were enough.

She stared at me, her eyes widening.

“…What?”

“I’m tired of this,” I continued, forcing myself to keep going. “Of us.”

The rain poured down harder, soaking us completely.

But neither of us moved.

Neither of us cared.

“What are you talking about…?” her voice dropped to a whisper.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

There it was.

The beginning of the end.

She shook her head slowly, as if refusing to understand.

“No… you’re not serious.”

“I am.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Then look at me and say it again!”

Her voice broke completely this time.

And for a moment—

I almost did.

I almost told her everything.

About the hospital.

About the diagnosis.

About the word that had been haunting me every single night.

Incurable.

I almost told her that I was scared.

That I didn’t want to leave her.

That I wanted to stay… no matter what.

But then I imagined her face.

Not like this.

But later.

When everything would end.

When she would be standing alone, holding onto memories that could never come back.

And I knew—

I couldn’t let that happen.

So I smiled.

A small, cold smile.

The kind she had never seen before.

“I don’t love you anymore.”

⸻

Time stopped.

Even the rain seemed to fade into the background.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t speak.

“…Say that again.”

Her voice was barely there.

“I said,” I repeated, each word cutting deeper than the last, “I don’t love you anymore.”

The silence that followed was unbearable.

She stared at me like she was looking at a stranger.

No.

Worse.

Like she was looking at someone who had just destroyed her entire world.

“You’re… lying.”

I didn’t answer.

“You have to be lying…” she whispered, shaking her head. “You can’t just stop loving someone like that. Not after everything.”

But I could.

Or at least—

I had to make her believe that I could.

“Eight years is a long time,” I said casually, as if it meant nothing. “People get bored.”

The moment those words left my mouth, I felt something inside me collapse completely.

But I kept going.

“I got bored.”

A slap.

I didn’t even see it coming.

My head snapped to the side, the sting spreading across my cheek.

The rain mixed with something else now.

I didn’t know if it was water…

or something more.

“How can you say that…?”

Her voice trembled violently.

“How can you say something like that after everything we’ve been through?!”

I didn’t look at her.

Because if I did—

I would break.

“You asked,” I said quietly.

“So I answered.”

She let out a broken laugh, taking a step back.

“Unbelievable…”

Her shoulders shook, but she refused to cry.

Not in front of me.

“Then what about all those promises?” she asked. “What about everything you said? Were those lies too?”

“Yes.”

The word came out instantly.

Without hesitation.

Without mercy.

And that was the moment—

I lost her.

Completely.

She went silent.

Not angry.

Not shouting.

Just… empty.

“…I see.”

Her voice was calm.

Too calm.

That scared me more than anything.

She took a step back.

Then another.

Creating distance between us.

Between everything we used to be.

“Then… that’s it, right?”

I nodded.

“Yes.”

A small pause.

Then she smiled.

It was beautiful.

And it broke me more than anything else that night.

“Okay.”

Just one word.

No questions.

No begging.

No tears.

Just acceptance.

She turned around.

And started walking away.

Step by step.

Without looking back.

⸻

I stood there.

Frozen.

Watching her disappear into the rain.

Every instinct in my body screamed at me to run after her.

To grab her hand.

To pull her back.

To tell her the truth.

To say—

I’m dying.

I didn’t mean any of it.

I still love you.

But I didn’t move.

Because if I did—

everything I sacrificed would mean nothing.

So I stayed there.

Until she was gone.

Until the only thing left…

was the rain.

⸻

That night, I went back to the empty house.

The silence greeted me like an old friend.

I sat down on the floor, my back against the wall, my body finally giving in to the exhaustion I had been holding back.

My phone buzzed.

A message.

From her.

I stared at it for a long time before opening it.

“From now on… let’s not see each other again.”

My hand trembled slightly.

I typed something.

“I’m sorry.”

I looked at those words.

Read them again.

And again.

Then slowly—

I deleted them.

Locked the screen.

And let the darkness swallow everything.

⸻

Because some truths…

were never meant to be told.