Illustration by Dao Quoc Huy by Nghiem Huyen Vu I had a friend much younger than me, beautiful and seemingly well-off. She had a love that lasted for about ten years, but circumstances dictated that it would never work. “He studied at Harvard, tall and handsome with a strong face and bright mind. Like you, he was a man of knowledge who was able to explain everything to me, but he was more handsome than you and made much more money,” she said to me. “It happened in the dry season of the first year of the Millennium when I returned to Sai Gon after seven years,” she told me. “I had settled down in this bustling city. You know, I loved him, my first love, my student love, so much so that I had to leave Ha Noi and my family to go to the South, but in the end, he did not marry me. I returned to the North and married a building engineer. He is a good man and provides for me and our daughter. Years later, I was invited to a wedding in Sai Gon, and because he was busy, I took a friend with me…. Read full this story
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