On a June afternoon, when the rain was pouring over the ancient town of Hoi An, a woman stood quietly in front of the gate of the high school, holding an old umbrella in her hand, watching a student walking out. Seven years of raising children alone, seventeen years of silently burying pain, now, Huong’s heart is tightened by a truth that she has never dared to face…”

That year, Huong had just turned 20 years old, the most beautiful age in her daughter’s life. She is an accounting student at the College of Economics in Da Nang. Her family background is not well-off, her father died early, her mother sells bread at the end of the alley to feed her two sisters to study. Huong is good at studying, diligent, and has never bothered her mother. But then, it was the summer of her second year that wrote the most melancholy page of her youth.

Huong met Minh while working part-time at a popular restaurant near a construction site. Minh is a new worker from his hometown of Quang Ngai to work as a lake helper. With his tall physique, gentle smile and somewhat awkward eyes, he made the young girl feel close and trusting. Love comes naturally like the rain at the beginning of the season – fast, unexpected and permeable.

They fell in love for more than three months when Huong found out she was pregnant. The good news for her was a wordless bewilderment. She skipped class, worked more part-time to save money. Minh promised to take her back to her hometown to propose a decent marriage. She believed him, as if there was only one man in the whole world, Ming.

On the day of her debut, everything was not as Huong imagined. Minh’s parents were cold, their faces darkened when they heard about “eating rice before the canal”. His mother said: “My daughter is very spoiled now, nothing has been attached, surely it is Minh’s child?” – the sentence was like a knife slash into Huong’s heart.

They returned to Da Nang in silence. From that day, Minh began to avoid her, then made excuses here and there: “My parents haven’t agreed, wait a little longer…” – that sentence repeated many times like an old video.

Three months passed, Huong’s belly was getting bigger and bigger. While Minh has less contact. Then one rainy afternoon, her friend who works at the same restaurant called her, her voice trembling:
“Huong… Clarify it… married in the countryside…

The incense stiffens. She sat on a park bench near the dormitory for hours. No tears. No resentment. There was only a silence as if all sounds were drowned out.

She decided to quit school, move to the suburbs, get a job as an accountant for a small lumber factory, and keep the baby. “I don’t need anyone to pity me, I’ll be a single mother” – she said to herself every night, when her legs were swollen because of pregnancy but she still didn’t dare to rest.

He was born on a rainy night, in a corrugated iron-roofed motel room, there was the sound of frogs and the smell of earth. She named her child Khoi – meaning the beginning. Because for Huong, the baby is the only light left in the middle of her life.

Life is not easy. Being a single mother at the age of twenty-one, Huong both goes to work and raises her children. Sometimes she has to carry Khoi to ask her uncle to send her when she works overtime unexpectedly. Many nights, she cried because she was tired, because she felt sorry for herself, because she missed her old mother in the countryside but did not dare to come back, afraid that people would disagree.

Khoi grew up healthy and obedient. The boy has eyes exactly like Minh – something that every time he sees it, Huong’s heart shrinks. She had never told me who her father was. In all admission documents and papers, she always left the “father’s name” section blank. For her, Khoi just needs her mother.

When Khoi was in grade 10, she saved up to buy a small plot of land in Hoi An, opened a small grocery store in front of her house. Life was peaceful, but a corner of memory was still there – like a scar that never healed.

Then, one afternoon in June, when Khoi had just finished the final exam of grade 11, Huong overheard a conversation between her son and a classmate. Khoi’s voice:
“I don’t know who my father is, my mother said he died a long time ago… but recently there was an uncle in the countryside who said that he looked like a certain person named Minh…

Huong was dumbfounded. That name – Minh – was like a strong blow that made her reel. She hid her child for nearly seventeen years. Without thinking, then it was time for the truth to come out…

After hearing the name “Minh” come out of her son’s own mouth, Huong suddenly revived the painful memories that seemed to have been buried. That night, she sat all night in front of the porch, looking at the fireflies glittering in the middle of the vegetable garden behind the house.

The next morning, Huong went to the market early, as usual. But when she was arranging a vegetable stall, a middle-aged woman walked over, with a strange but familiar expression. She stood in front of Huong for a long time before she spoke:

“You are… Huong, right?

Xiang paused. The question seems simple, but that voice, that gaze… made her heart pound.

–Yes… Are you…?

“I am… Minh’s mother.

The fragrance seemed to be deadly. That woman is much older than she was 17 years ago. There is no longer a stern and cold look every year. She gently put down the gift bag:
“I went to Quang Nam for work, I heard an acquaintance say that you are in Hoi An, so you should come to … I want to meet Khoi’s grandson.

There was a long silence.

“What is the purpose of meeting him?” To apologize? It’s too late. Seventeen years, do you know how I lived?

Huong said in a choked voice. But the old lady only bowed her head:

“I know… I was wrong. That day, I forced Minh to marry someone else. She – Minh’s wife, could not give birth to a child. They divorced last year. Minh had a car accident and died three months ago. Before he died, he said… “I have a son. If you still love me, find a way to meet me and ask Huong for forgiveness…”

Tai Xiang buzzed. The world is spinning. She tried to stand firmly, her hands clenched tightly so that she wouldn’t collapse. Minh is dead… And he has never forgotten her mother and children.

That afternoon, after many hesitations, Huong called Khoi back, sat across from her child at the old wooden dining table – where the mother and daughter still share a frugal meal every night.

–Belle… I have something to tell you.

The boy was dumbfounded. Huong recounts it all – youthful love, betrayal, pain, and the decision to have a child alone. Khoi heard about his father for the first time. When his mother stopped, he was silent. No crying. Not screaming like Huong used to fear. He only asked softly:

–So… Do you know that you exist?

–Have… But I don’t think he’s brave enough to face it. Now… there is no more chance, son.

Khoi was silent. That night, he lay facing the wall, not sleeping, and for the first time in his life, saw his tears fall without stopping himself.

A week later, the old lady – Minh’s mother – returned. In his hand was an old, brown paper wrapper, and inside was a diary with a worn leather cover. She gave it to Huong.

– It was written in the last days of his life… I think you should read it.

That night, when Khoi was asleep, Huong opened the diary.

“Xiang,
if you can read these lines, it means that you are gone. I’m sorry that I left you alone that year to cope with everything. You are cowardly. I’m afraid of my mother, afraid of public opinion, afraid of my disappointed eyes.
But do you know, on the day of someone else’s wedding, I was drunk for a whole month. It is said that men should live rationally. But for 17 years, every time he heard someone call his name ‘Huong’, his heart tightened.
I used to sneak back to Hoi An a few times, see me carrying my child to the market, see my child grow up day by day…
He wished to hug him once, calling him his father’s son. But… not brave enough.
Please… If you want to know the truth, don’t hide it. Let him know, at least, that there is a father who has regretted it all his life…”

The last page is a photo. Minh, when he was in the hospital, was thin but still tried to smile. In her hand is a blue necklace – the color that Huong used to knit for him that year.

Huong cried. For the first time in seventeen years, she really cried. Not out of resentment, but because of letting go.

The following month, Huong led Khoi to Quang Ngai – where Minh rested. The boy stood in front of his father’s grave, his trembling hands put down the bouquet of white flowers.

“I don’t blame you. But you need time.

He turned around and hugged his mother tightly.

“I only know one thing… Mother is the bravest person in the world.

Huong smiled. The wind blows back from Ly Son sea, salty and gentle like a mother’s heart that has passed through a thunderstorm but still stands proudly.

There are loves that don’t need to end with a wedding, there are pains that don’t need to be paid. But the most beautiful thing in this life, is that someone chooses to give birth to you… and another person chooses not to give up on you, even if the world turns its back.