Kim’s phone buzzed gently in her hand. The last message she sent was short and to the point:
"Uncle Lâm, I’m heading home with Khánh now. Rest well, and I’ll see you tomorrow."
She lifted her gaze, instinctively pulling her shoulders in as a gust of early autumn wind slipped through her thin blouse. Shanghai had already transitioned from the oppressive heat of summer, with the sunlight now soft and golden, quietly falling onto the sidewalks littered with ginkgo leaves that had fallen too early. Beside her, Khánh walked silently, hands tucked into his pockets, sleeves of his white shirt neatly rolled up. They had just taken a stroll around the campus – a habit that seemed to have no reason, but somehow made perfect sense every time they met.
"Aren’t you waiting for Uncle Lâm?" Khánh asked, a hint of surprise in his voice as he saw Kim take the initiative.
"Well… I think he’s probably tired. Besides, it’s easier to walk with you," Kim replied, her voice as light as the soft evening sunlight. She didn’t look at him, her eyes following the falling leaves carried by the breeze, as the maple trees along the road began to show shades of red and orange, signaling the arrival of a new season.
The car engine started. Inside the SUV, the soundproofing was nearly perfect. Only the soft hum of the air conditioning and the faint scent of Lys flowers lingered in the air – the bouquet Khánh had given her after class. Kim sat quietly, holding the flowers in her lap, occasionally adjusting the stems. After a moment, she spoke:
"Khánh..."
"Hmm?" Khánh glanced at her briefly, his hands steady on the steering wheel.
"If someone really loves me… can they leave so easily?"
The breeze swept through, and the view outside the window blurred like a slow-motion film. Memories, dreams that once bloomed during their dates, now turned into the wind that carried them away.
"I trusted him," she said slowly. "I thought he was the one I could walk with for a long time. But it turns out, everything was just a performance. I was just a supporting character, there to make someone else shine."
Khánh didn’t say anything. He just tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his hand clenched as if trying to control the storm rising in his chest.
"When I found out, I didn’t cry. I wasn’t angry. I just felt empty. Like I had been pushed out of his world a long time ago, only I didn’t realize it."
"Sofia..." Khánh whispered, but before he could say anything more, she turned to him, her eyes filled with unshed tears yet still shining with strength.
"Yeah, I’m really not okay," she smiled, but this time it was a real smile. "So, maybe… from now on, it’ll be hard for me to trust anyone. That kind of love."
Khánh bit his lip. His heart twisted painfully. If he could, he wanted to run and rip that sorrow from her heart. But he was just the person standing behind the curtain – the most trusted "older brother." And he knew that with one wrong step, this relationship would shatter like glass.
"I know," Khánh finally said, his eyes still straight ahead. "But if one day you trust enough to try again… then let that person prove themselves. Don’t force yourself to believe, just feel."
Kim tilted her head and looked at him, a flash of surprise in her eyes, then smiled softly.
"You really… can say anything, huh? You’re quite something."
The car turned into the villa area in the western part of the city. Along the roadside, the ginkgo leaves had begun to turn yellow like an unfinished poem. Early autumn in Shanghai – the weather not too cold, people not too close. But on an evening like this, a girl had let go of some of her wounds, and a boy still silently stayed by her side, just as he had for many years.