Tong Le Xuyen and I were practically childhood sweethearts. Years ago, after my father made a clean break from his parental duties, my mother gathered every penny of her savings and pulled me onto a creaking, old train. That swaying carriage didn’t just carry our physical belongings—it transported my entire life onto a completely new path.

After a series of connecting trains, we finally put down roots in this city. As luck would have it, Tong Le Xuyen’s family lived directly across from us. His mother was a soul of pure gentleness. On the days my own mother was stuck working late, she would usher me into their home, feeding me and fussing over me like one of her own.

The first time I stepped foot into their house, I was so petrified I moved like a wooden toy. I was terrified of Tong Le Xuyen’s father. Even though he smiled warmly and spoke to me politely every single time, a child’s trauma requires no logic, past scars are more than enough. I spent every second braced for the moment he would snap, expecting him to grab me by the hair the way my father used to.

But nothing bad ever happened. He merely patted Tong Le Xuyen’s shoulder with a gentle smile. “Little Am Am is visiting. Aren’t you going to show her to your room? Whatever treats or toys you have, you make sure to share with her, you hear?”

Tong Le Xuyen took my hand, his answer firm and immediate. “Got it, Dad!”

In that single instant, I learned what a normal family actually looked like. And I realized… he and I were playing by different rules from the very start. He grew up bathed in unconditional love, while I was consumed by the art of basic survival. Yet the strange, miraculous thing was that he was more than willing to hand over half of that love to me without a second thought.

“Long time no see… You haven’t changed a bit, have you? Still so quiet I almost thought you’d gone mute.” A puff of chilly breath grazed my neck, making me jump.

I narrowed my eyes at the culprit. Tong Le Xuyen instantly flashed an apologetic grin, holding out a plastic cup to me. “Four Seasons Macchiato, no ice, zero sugar, extra taro boba. Didn’t forget, did I? Your absolute favorite.”

I took it, jamming the straw through the lid to take a sip before casually replying, “And you haven’t changed either. Still as loud as a megaphone.”

Tong Le Xuyen leaned back against his chair, his hair falling into his eyes with lazy ease. “I’m only a chatterbox around you. If we hadn’t grown up together, I probably would’ve turned into one of those icy, mysterious CEO types by now.” He let out an overly dramatic sigh. “Tragic, really. You’ve been an iceberg since we were kids. If I’d frozen over too, we wouldn’t have exchanged more than twelve sentences in the last twelve years.”

A faint laugh escaped me; I couldn’t even disagree. “How have you been lately?”

“Not bad. Pretty much living the retired life now. How about you?”

“After graduating, I worked as a wildlife photographer for two years, wandering around mountains and forests.” He gave a casual shrug. “Then I got injured, and my mom almost cried herself blind. So I had to hang up my camera and come back to open a local studio to keep the peace.”

I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Sounds like a bit of a shame… But hey, starting a new business at our age is basically like getting a second shot at being eighteen.”

“Hey!” Tong Le Xuyen feigned outrage, raising a hand as if to flick my forehead.

Reflexively, I tilted my head back to dodge. His hand froze mid-air, and the atmosphere hung taut for a fleeting second. But just as quickly, he pulled back and burst into a light laugh. “A handsome eighteen-year-old like me doesn’t argue with old ladies.”

We spent the afternoon wandering down memory lane, strolling through our old haunts. The same old eateries, the familiar streets, and memories that had long faded with time. As dusk began to settle, Tong Le Xuyen walked me back home. I was just about to offer a polite goodbye when he suddenly caught my hand. He squeezed gently, his tone deepening. “Am Am… the real reason I asked you out today was to tell you… I like you.”

I stared down at our joined hands before slowly looking up into his eyes. “Back when we were picking colleges, you chose not to go to Beijing because you read the confession I wrote on the back of your notebook, didn’t you? That was a pretty subtle way of turning me down.”

Tong Le Xuyen’s brow furrowed, a trace of panic breaking through his calm. “Back then, I thought you were just confusing real feelings with emotional dependency. But I realized later that I was the one who got it completely wrong.” He searched my face, waiting for an answer.

I gently slipped my hand out of his grip. “You were right, though. I didn’t know the difference back then. You were always there, caring for me, sharing everything… To someone who had never known what it felt like to be loved, it was so easy to mistake that for something else.” I took a quiet breath. “But I get it now. Love isn’t about demanding things from someone. It’s about wanting to give them whatever little you have left, even when your own hands are empty. Knowing they don’t lack a thing, yet still wanting to give it anyway. That’s love, flawed, but not terrible. But to me, you’ll always be a brother. You were back then, and you always will be.”

An autumn breeze drifted between us, rustling my hair. A quiet stillness settled over the space between us. Then, out of nowhere, Tong Le Xuyen let out a soft laugh.

Tap! He lightly flicked my forehead with two fingers. “Look at you, dropping long philosophical speeches about love. Guess you really have changed after all, a lot, actually.” He narrowed his eyes knowingly. “Spill. You fell for someone, didn’t you? Why didn’t you bring him around for me to vet?”

I shook my head, my voice quiet. “Not a chance.”

He didn’t push it any further, simply reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s getting cold out. Get inside.”

I stood there, watching the taillights of Tong Le Xuyen’s car fade into the distance. But as I turned around to head inside, my eyes landed straight on Tran Vong Tan. He was standing motionless on the opposite side of the street, a glowing ember burning between his fingers. A sudden wave of helplessness washed over me. For three years, we had shared an intimacy so deep there were no secrets left between our bodies, yet I never even knew he smoked.

A gust of freezing wind swept past, bringing a light drizzle with it. I pulled my coat tighter around myself and quietly tried to walk past him.

“Who was that?” His voice cut through the damp night air, icy and sharp behind me.

“A blind date,” I replied casually, typing my door code into the keypad.

“You came back… to marry him?” His tone dropped lower, colder than the winter wind.

I stayed silent, letting the quiet speak for itself, and he drew his own conclusions. In a flash, he lunged forward, his grip slamming onto my shoulders as he pinned me hard against the wall. “What’s he got that I don’t? Money? Power?” He leaned down, his voice dropping to a dangerous, lethal growl. “…Or does he just fuck you better than I do?”

The faint scent of tobacco clung to him, clearing my head with startling clarity. I looked straight into his dark eyes. “Was my text not clear enough?” I repeated every word with deliberate precision. “We are done. Don’t contact me again.”

“On what grounds?!” This time, his restraint shattered completely.

I looked at him, completely unbothered. “Anything used for too long gets boring. It’s been three years, and I felt like a change of pace. Is that a problem?”