My dad called me home immediately. When I saw my stepmom and her pregnant belly, I was speechless, burst into tears, turned around and ran away…

I am Nam, a third-year university student. Since my mother passed away 5 years ago, my father has lived alone in the countryside. I thought he would be lonely forever, never remarry. But then, late one afternoon, the phone rang.

– Nam, come back this weekend, I have something important to do. – Dad’s voice was low and decisive.

I was nervous. Something important? Dad was a man of few words, rarely calling except to ask how I was. I couldn’t sleep that night.

Saturday morning, I took the long bus ride back to my hometown. The familiar road, the rows of trees, the old tiled roofs, suddenly felt strange to me. I walked quickly into the yard. The door opened…

Dad stood there. Beside him was a woman. I was momentarily bewildered. Then my eyes slid down to… her belly – round, big – as if hiding an undeniable secret. I stammered, my heart pounding: “No… it can’t be…”

The woman looked up. And I was stunned. It was Lan. Lan – my old classmate. Lan – the girl I had secretly loved all through high school, but never dared to say it.

My legs stopped, my mind was spinning. The scene before my eyes tore me into pieces. Dad tried to step forward, his mouth stammering: “Son… let me talk…”

But I couldn’t listen. Tears welled up in my eyes, I turned and ran, ignoring my father’s heartbreaking calls from behind.

I ran straight to the riverbank, where I used to fly kites in my childhood and sit with my mother on cool afternoons. I sat down, holding my head, screaming in despair. Why Lan? The person I had vaguely thought about throughout my youth was now standing next to my father, carrying his blood in her veins.

It was getting dark when Dad found me. He sat down and sighed.

“Nam, I know you’re shocked. But I don’t want to hide it from you. I’m old… I’ve lived alone for many years, I’m very lonely. I met Lan by chance, we both depended on each other. Lan loved me, and… loved you too.”

I jumped up, looked straight into my father’s eyes, my voice choked with bitterness:

But do you know… I used to like her? I used to consider her my whole youth! Now she is your wife… do you understand how I feel?!

Dad was stunned. His eyes were red, but he remained steadfast: “I don’t know. If I knew… I might have thought differently. But Nam, you have to understand… youthful love is just a memory. Right now, Lan and the baby need a home.”

I smiled bitterly. His words were like a knife piercing my heart.

The next day, Lan came to see me. She looked at me, her eyes hesitant, her voice trembling: “Nam… I’m sorry. I know you had feelings for me in the past, but we were both too young. I also loved you, but I never thought we would end up together. Life took its course… in the end I ended up with your father. I don’t want to hurt you.”

I choked, my hands clenched: “You said you didn’t want to, but you chose my dad. Do you know how much more painful that is?”

Lan burst into tears, hugging her pregnant belly as if to protect the baby. Seeing that scene, I suddenly felt both hate and pity, anger and helplessness.

That night, I rummaged through the old drawer where my mother’s letter was kept. The familiar handwriting appeared: “Nam, I just hope you live a good life, know how to love others and cherish your family. If one day your father remarries, please forgive him, don’t leave him alone.”

My tears fell and wet the whole page of the letter. My heart felt both broken and saved.

On the wedding day, I stood outside the gate, looking at my father in a simple suit, Lan in a white ao dai, gently rubbing her pregnant belly. My heart was in turmoil. I wanted to rush in, to shout: “No!” But my legs felt like they were pinned to the ground.

In the end, I just quietly left a letter: “I can’t bless you, but I can’t hate you either. I’m leaving now, I hope you’re happy.”

I turned and walked away. The wedding music echoed behind me, and each step felt like stepping on my own heart.

My youth, my family – it all fell apart in that moment.