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Chapter 67 - Chapter 66: I Miss U

Chapter 66: I Miss U

In the evening, the Vietnamese Student Association held a small party and gave flowers to the female students. Kieu Ly and Thuy Linh also attended. What surprised Kieu Ly was that the "fridge guy" she had seen at the restaurant the other day was also there. He quietly helped set the table with the others, barely speaking—like a ghost drifting in and out.

Kieu Ly leaned over and whispered to Thuy Linh:

"What's the fridge guy's name, Linh?"

Thuy Linh glanced in his direction before answering:

"Dang Bang Anh."

Kieu Ly sighed inwardly: "Another 'Anh'? Why are there so many people named Anh?"

Ever since she was dumped, that name no longer brought her any fond feelings.

The party featured a menu of Vietnamese dishes cooked by the male students. After the meal, they had a fun little event: each guy would draw a name and give flowers to the girl he picked, along with a congratulatory message.

The party was warm and friendly, but eventually came to an end, and everyone returned home. Kieu Ly placed her bouquet by the window. She was gradually adjusting to the new friends, lifestyle, and climate.

Every step we take leaves us with a memory to carry.

After settling in, she sat at her desk, grabbed a book from the shelf, and quietly read. Though friendly, Kieu Ly was innately introverted—reading in solitude never made her feel lonely.

Near midnight, she stepped to the window and looked out at the courtyard. Autumn in London was gentle and cool. The days were still sunny, while nights brought a crisp chill. Suddenly, she felt a little sad. Huong Tra had officially entered a romantic relationship.

Kieu Ly couldn't help but wonder: When I return from studying abroad, will our friendship crack like Hong and Mai's?

Still, she thought, maybe fate had been kind to her and Trà in its own ironic way—when one had a boyfriend, the other left for study abroad.

Knowing Trà had someone now left her with a faint sense of loss.

Maybe I'm overthinking it, she told herself.

She shut the window and turned off the light to go to bed. Just as she did, her phone screen lit up with a message:

"I miss you. G9."

It was from Toan Phuong, via Facebook.

Kieu Ly saw the message but didn't reply. Instead, she drifted off to sleep.

Maybe… a message like that didn't need a reply—just quietly carried its sentiment of distant longing.

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