Chapter 23: New Deal
The night flight from Tokyo to Hanoi felt like a journey through two different worlds. The cool, dry air of Japan was gradually replaced by the familiar, humid heat as the plane descended. Linh leaned her head against the window, watching the clouds drift by outside, her face strangely calm. But inside, her mind was a storm. She was returning to Duc Anh, returning to the man who was the center of her universe, the reason for all her craziest actions. A feeling of excitement and anticipation rose, like an actress about to meet her director after successfully completing a difficult role.
Sitting next to her, Troc was a completely different person. He sat up straight, his hands clasped tightly on his knees, his eyes staring blankly into space. During the entire flight, he barely said a word. Every time he closed his eyes, haunting images from the party on the yacht appeared: Linh’s naked body surrounded by strange men, her moans, and the image of himself standing in the crack of the door, his hands doing something disgusting. He sat next to her, smelling the familiar scent of her hair, but feeling an unbridgeable chasm between them. He was disgusted by her, pitied her, and wanted her madly.
Linh felt that distance. She tried to talk to him a few times, asking if he wanted to drink water or eat something. Each time, he just shook his head, not daring to look straight into her eyes. Her caring actions, instead of soothing him, were like needles stabbing at his helplessness. She also felt guilty. She knew she had broken something inside him, something that could probably never be mended. But then she told herself, all of this was for Duc Anh. And as long as Duc Anh was satisfied, all the sacrifices were worth it.
When the plane landed at Noi Bai, the sweltering heat and the familiar noise of Hanoi rushed in. Troc pushed the luggage cart behind, silent as a shadow. Linh walked in front, her steps getting faster and faster. And then, she saw him. Duc Anh stood at the exit gate, standing out from the crowd. He wore a simple white shirt, a bright smile on his lips but his eyes were hungry like a hungry animal waiting for its prey to return.
As soon as she saw her husband, Linh forgot everything. She was no longer a Queen, nor a Goddess. She returned to being a wife, a lover longing to be in her master’s arms. She ran to him, threw herself into his arms, buried her face in his strong chest and took a deep breath of his familiar scent. She looked up, without saying a word, just used her lips to find his, giving him a passionate, passionate kiss. It was a display of love, longing and absolute submission.
Troc stood behind, witnessing everything. He watched the two of them clinging to each other, watched Linh completely melt into Duc Anh’s arms. A feeling of jealousy and loneliness rose to the top, bitter in his throat. He was no longer the hero who had accompanied her through the dark nights in Japan. Now, he was just an extra, a pale shadow in their happy picture.
Duc Anh hugged Linh tightly but his eyes were looking at Troc. A look of gratitude, pity, but above all, the triumph of the owner. He let go of Linh, walked over to shake Troc’s hand, and patted him hard on the shoulder.
“Thank you for taking care of my wife. You must have worked hard.”
The polite words were like a stab in the gut, confirming that Troc was just a “hired caretaker”, and now the precious item has been returned to its rightful owner.
That night, dinner was lavishly prepared. Duc Anh opened a bottle of expensive wine, continuously served food to Troc, and asked about his work and future in Japan. He played the role of a perfect husband and brother-in-law to the point of being impeccable. But behind those caring words were sharp probing needles.
“I heard the bosses there really like you, and even sponsored you to stay. Linh must have helped you gain a good impression, right? She’s a good communicator.” Duc Anh said with a smile, glancing at Linh.
Linh also played the role of a good wife. She told travel stories that had the dark parts removed, about delicious food and beautiful scenery. But every now and then, she glanced at Duc Anh with a meaningful look that only he could understand. It was the look of a soldier who had just returned from a victorious battle, waiting to report his achievements to his general.
Troc was the only audience member who knew the whole truth of this play. He barely spoke, just drank one glass of wine after another. Every word, every gesture of Linh and Duc Anh was like torture for him. He felt like a clown in his own life’s tragedy.
After dinner, when Troc was about to ask for permission to leave, Duc Anh stopped him. “Sit down and relax a little longer, it’s been a long time since we last saw each other.”
He calmly pulled Linh to sit on his lap right in front of Troc. He started kissing her neck, his restless hand slipped into her T-shirt, fondling her full breasts. He whispered lewd words into her ear, but his eyes were looking straight at Troc, a challenging and powerful look.
“Miss me, honey? Is there anyone over there who can make you as happy as I am?”
Linh, out of love and absolute obedience to Duc Anh, completely complied. She moaned softly in her husband’s arms, her body writhing in invitation. “No one else… I just want my husband…”
Troc could only bow his head, his hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. This was a cruel psychological torture. Duc Anh was asserting his sovereignty, “washing” Linh of all traces of his trip to Japan and forcing Troc to witness it. He could not bear it any longer, quickly stood up, apologized and almost ran away from that house.
A few days later, Troc arranged to meet Linh privately at a quiet garden cafe by the river. Duc Anh was not present. Troc, after receiving the official news of the permanent residence card, did not appear happy. He looked tired and tormented.
He confessed to Linh that he could not bear to see her possessed by other men. He spoke of the jealousy, the impotence and the sick excitement that tortured him. “I cannot bear it, Linh. But I cannot leave you either.”
Linh listened patiently, her eyes full of sympathy but also determination. She took his hand. “I understand. I’m sorry for putting you through all that. But you have to know one thing, everything I did… was for Duc Anh. I love him, and I will do anything he wants. This game is his.”
Linh’s words were both a stab and a relief. Troc understood that he would never have her completely. But he didn’t want to lose her either. He found a new way out.
“I understand. I won’t come between you two. I’ll return to Japan, but… I’ll often ‘visit’ you two. I hope… you two will always welcome me.” The word “visit” was emphasized, implying that he wanted to be involved in their lives, including the sexual aspect, but in a pre-determined role.
Linh smiled, a sad but understanding smile. “Our home… will always have a place for you.”
That evening, Linh recounted the entire conversation to Duc Anh. He was not surprised, on the contrary, he seemed extremely interested. He suggested calling Troc. A three-person video call was made.
Duc Anh, with a condescending look, said to Troc: “I heard Linh’s story. Thank you for ‘sympathizing’ with my husband and I. Feel free to come visit, ‘brother’.” He deliberately emphasized the word “brother”.
He pulled Linh into his arms and kissed her neck in front of the camera. “My wife is preparing for a new ‘project’. Next time I come back, I might be able to see a much better play than the one in Japan.”
The bald man on the other end of the line could only watch silently. The phone screen reflected his face, full of pain and resignation. He had voluntarily entered the cage of his own choosing. The play had gained a loyal audience.