I asked the elderly woman gently,
"What are you being treated for, Grandma?"
She smiled faintly. "Dialysis. Every month, when it's my turn, I check in here for a few days."
"I see. But your complexion looks so healthy. You seem strong."
"You have a sweet tongue, child. I've weathered many storms. Now all I want is to see my children happy. But they're so busy—business never stops. Only this old body can be put aside."
"They must all be successful and very busy, right?"
She chuckled bitterly. "Busy indeed. In the world of commerce, nothing can be left unattended—except an old woman like me."
"I understand. Even as a lowly employee, sometimes I'm so overwhelmed with work I can barely breathe. Your children must be a hundred times busier. I'm sure they want to visit but just can't make the time. Don't worry, whenever I come to see my Aunt Tu, I'll chat with you too so you won't feel lonely."
Her eyes softened. "Such a kind girl. Yes, when you come for your aunt, come sit with me as well."
That evening, I said goodbye to both her and Aunt Tu and left with my mother.
On the way home, Mother explained that the woman was the mother of a powerful corporate chairman, from a family with generations of wealth. Rich as they were, she had no family by her side here. A housekeeper delivered her meals daily, but her care was left to hired nurses. That was why she had chosen to share a room with another patient—to have company, someone to talk to.
Mother sighed. "Wealth spares you from hunger and want, but it brings its own miseries. Sometimes, ordinary people like us live easier lives."
I arched a brow. "Haven't you always told me you don't want me to live an 'ordinary' life? Why change your tune so quickly?"
She gave me a look. "When you're young, you must strive. But at my age—or hers—all you want is peace, healthy children, and a bit of joy."
"…"
"Which is why you need to think about marriage. At your age, when else will you settle down and have children? Time passes in the blink of an eye."
"I am trying, Mother. I've never refused to meet anyone you've introduced."
"You never refuse, but you never encourage either. Don't tell me you still haven't forgotten Nam."
My heart jolted at the sound of his name. Seven years had passed. I had convinced myself it was buried, that time had dissolved it quietly. He had taken his path, and I had taken mine. Two roads diverging, never to cross again.
Yet here I was, trembling at a single casual mention. Perhaps no one had spoken his name in so long that I mistook silence for forgetting.
That night, sleep eluded me. A man I thought I'd long forgotten filled my restless thoughts.
The following days at the office were suffocatingly busy. The entire company seemed to run at twice its usual pace, bracing for the arrival of the new CEO from headquarters. Every department scrambled, every mistake avoided at all costs. Supervisors reminded us daily: "The new CEO is brilliant, meticulous, and inspires loyalty. We must give him our full support if we want DragonTech to grow."
We hadn't even seen his face, but the pressure mounted higher each day.
That evening, after work, I stopped by the hospital again with a bottle of supplements Aunt Tu had asked for. We spoke for a while, then I drifted to the neighboring bed.
The old woman was just waking, sunlight filtering through the blinds onto her wrinkled face. She beamed when she saw me.
"Ah, there you are, child. I must've slept right through your arrival."
"That's fine. I was sitting with my aunt. How are you feeling today?"
She gave a resigned shrug. "Always the same. I take each day as it comes."
"Don't say that. You look brighter than many people half your age."
She chuckled, amused. "Such a charming girl. Tell me, what's your name?"
"I'm Ha An. Please, just call me An."
"An," she repeated, nodding. "A good name. It puts the heart at ease. You live up to it. Tell me, are you married?"
I hesitated, then shook my head. "Still single, Grandma."
Her eyes widened. "How is that possible? Such a kind, well-mannered girl—how are you still alone? How old are you?"
"You've found my sore spot. I'm thirty already."
"Thirty! Then the men around you must be blind."
Her indignation made me laugh. "You've given me more confidence than I've had in years. I thought my fate was sealed, that I'd just say yes to whoever asked, no matter what."
She clucked her tongue. "Young people these days, always blaming their careers. Don't you know? Only when the home is stable can the career truly thrive."
She pressed my hand warmly as she spoke, encouraging me about marriage. But deep inside, I knew only she saw value in me. To most men, I was nothing more than an empty shell, not even attractive enough to be admired for appearances alone.
She began telling me about her own youth—how she had met her husband, the story of their courtship. Her voice was soft, tinged with nostalgia.
Just then, the door to the room swung open. The old woman looked up, her eyes narrowing as though she recognized the figure standing in the doorway.
"Is that you, Huy? When did you get back?"