Chapter 5: A Heartbeat Beneath the Silence

lt had been thirty-three days since Linh Tich signed the divorce papers.

Thirty-three days since she walked out of the cold, marble-floored mansion with nothing but a suitcase and her silence. Thirty-three days of pretending she was fine, of forcing herself to smile at clients and sketch dresses for women who still believed in love.

Her new apartment was small—barely enough room for her to stretch her arms—but it was hers. It didn’t carry the echoes of slammed doors, the sting of ignored greetings, or the heavy silence of a man who no longer looked at her like she mattered.

But lately, something inside her felt… off.

She had been nauseous for days. Not the kind that came from spoiled food or the flu, but something deeper. Her body ached in strange ways. Her emotions swung without warning—she’d laugh at a commercial, then burst into tears because her tea spilled. Her friend, An Nhien, teased her gently at first. “Maybe you’re just lovesick,” she’d joked.

Linh Tich wasn’t laughing anymore.

That morning, she stood in front of her bathroom mirror, pale and shaky. She had meant to go to work. She had a meeting with a high-profile client. But her reflection made her pause. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes tired. She looked… changed.

An hour later, she sat alone in a quiet clinic, holding a slip of paper with the words: *Pregnancy Test – Positive*.

The nurse had smiled gently. “You’re about six weeks along, Miss Linh.”

Six weeks.

She could do the math.

It was from *that night*—the night Trinh Duc came home drunk and barely acknowledged her presence. A night she had tried to forget.

She sat frozen on the bench outside the clinic, the spring sun warming her skin. She should have felt panic, maybe even fear. Instead, she felt stillness. A strange, heavy quiet that wrapped around her heart.

A baby.

His baby.

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, but they didn’t fall. Not yet.

---

Later that evening, An Nhien barged into the apartment without knocking—like always. She found Linh Tich sitting cross-legged on the sofa, staring at her untouched dinner.

“You didn’t show up at work,” An Nhien said. “I thought you were dead.”

“I’m pregnant.”

The words dropped like stones between them.

An Nhien’s eyes widened, her mouth opened slightly. She didn’t speak for a moment. Then, in a softer voice, “Are you sure?”

Linh Tich nodded.

“Oh, Tich…”

“I don’t want to hear I should get rid of it.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” An Nhien said quickly, kneeling in front of her. “I just want to know what *you* want.”

That question hung heavy in the air.

What did she want?

The truth was… she didn’t know. But she knew what she didn’t want.

She didn’t want to be defined by the pain Trinh Duc had left her with. She didn’t want this child to grow up as a burden. Most of all, she didn’t want to regret losing a part of herself before even giving it a chance.

“I’m keeping the baby,” she said softly, her hand unconsciously resting on her belly.

An Nhien reached up, squeezing her hand. “Then I’ll be here every step of the way.”

---

Meanwhile, across the city in a high-rise office with glass walls and leather chairs, Trinh Duc stared blankly at his screen. The numbers blurred together. Nothing made sense anymore.

His assistant had spoken twice, but he hadn't heard a word.

He was… distracted.

He shouldn’t be. He had a new project launching in a week. His girlfriend—officially announced to the public just months ago—was in his office, flipping through a fashion magazine. Everything was perfect.

Except it wasn’t.

He had expected to feel something after the divorce. Relief, maybe. Closure. But all he felt was an uncomfortable emptiness. He checked his phone more often than he should, though he told himself it was for work. He searched Linh Tich’s name online, hoping for an update, a whisper, anything.

There was nothing.

It was as if she had vanished.

"Are you okay?" the brunette beside him asked, twirling a lock of her hair.

He gave her a faint smile. “Just tired.”

She leaned against his shoulder. “You’ve been quiet lately.”

He didn’t respond. He stared out the window, where the city buzzed with life.

---

Days passed.

Linh Tich began attending prenatal appointments in secret. She ate healthier, rested more. Slowly, the fear began to dissolve, replaced by a quiet kind of strength.

One evening, as she flipped through her old sketchbooks, she found a design she had once dreamed of wearing at her wedding. Elegant lace, long sleeves, a subtle shimmer. It had been for *him*. For the future she thought they’d share.

She tore the page out gently.

And then she began to draw again.

Not for clients. Not for show.

For herself.

For her baby.

Each line, each stitch, became a promise.

She didn’t need Trinh Duc. Not his approval. Not his love. And she certainly didn’t need his name for this child to have a future.

---

But fate, as always, had other plans.

Because sometimes, the truth refuses to stay buried.

And secrets—especially the ones that carry heartbeats—have a way of coming to light.

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