I have to thank your family… Falling in love for 2 years…

I have to thank your family… After loving each other for 2 years, we decided to get married, my boyfriend and I decided to contribute money to buy a newlywed house, avoiding the dilemma of ‘mother-in-law and daughter-in-law’. I ‘have a little peak’, so I contributed 1 billion 7 and he only had 700 million. I love him for working hard from a poor hometown to the city to set up a career, so I am also very happy and sympathetic to him, without a single word of calculation. But his parents didn’t. On the day of going to check in for the house, the future parents-in-law insisted that their son be named on the red cover alone and said that it was a ‘homeland custom’, the boat was steered, the girl had to follow her husband. But 1 month later, I have to thank his family…

“The day I realized that people’s hearts are not measured by years of love, it was also the day I knew: being grateful at the right time will save my whole life.”

Ngoc and Nam got to know each other when they both started their careers in Saigon. She is an accountant at a trading company, and he is a civil engineer, from Nam Dinh, who came to the South to do business from scratch. The love between the two is colorless, not noisy, but enduring over the years.

After two years of love, Nam has nothing but a sincere heart. And Ngoc – who grew up in a middle-class family in Da Nang, with a little more conditions – is always the one who takes the initiative to cultivate. She spared no effort or money, as long as the two could build a home.

When discussing marriage, the two agreed to buy a house first. Ngoc frankly contributed 1 billion 7 billion, mostly from her parents’ savings for her. Nam collected 700 million VND – all the capital from the years of working part-time and borrowing a little more from friends. Ngoc did not compare. “My husband’s wife, as long as we try together,” she laughed.

But the days of dreaming are quickly covered with a layer of gray by reality.

On the day of signing the contract to buy a house, Nam called to say that his parents wanted to come with him. Ngoc happily agreed. “Having families on both sides witness the better,” she thought simply. But unexpectedly, right at the real estate transaction office, Ms. Huong – Nam’s mother – casually asked the staff to write her son’s name in the red book, without Ngoc’s name.

“This is the custom of my hometown. The house belongs to a man, and a woman follows her husband without a name,” she said as if it were obvious.

Ngoc was stunned. She looked at Nam, waiting for him to speak. But he was silent. His eyes were evasive, and he only said softly: “Come on, let your parents be happy…”

In the days that followed, Ngoc tormented in silence. She is not a greedy or self-serving person, but contributing nearly three-quarters of the money to buy a house without her name on the papers makes her feel hurt. She confided in her mother, with her close friends – everyone advised her to reconsider. But Ngoc has loved, and love is sometimes no longer rational enough.

“Well, it’s all about being together,” she comforted herself.

A month later, the wedding ceremony was set. Nam’s family discussed the ceremony and the fruit tray – but absolutely no one asked him what Ngoc wanted or needed. Everything is decided by the groom’s family, and the bride can only nod.

Ngoc began to feel like an outsider in her own life.

Then one evening in early August, Ngoc received a phone call. It is Thao – an old roommate, who now works in the same company as Nam.

“Jade… I find it hard to say, but… You should know this. Last night I saw Nam driving another girl home. Very intimate. It doesn’t seem to be the first time.”

Ngoc’s heart seemed to fall into a deep hole. She didn’t want to believe it. But then, in her heart, something – vague but powerful – made her start to learn.

Three days later, Ngoc had all the evidence: messages, photos, even recordings of the conversation between Nam and the other girl. They have been back and forth for more than 4 months. That girl… none other than Nam’s maternal cousin, who came to university from his hometown.

Ngoc sat in awe in the middle of the newly bought house – the house that she almost spent her entire fortune to build. A month ago, she even happily chose the color of the curtains, now she is trembling with her hands holding the house ownership certificate… unique name: Nguyen Huu Nam.

“There are people who come into your life just to teach you a lesson. And there are lessons worth 2 billion 4 million VND.”

Ngoc didn’t cry. Strangely, when the pain came to the end, the tears seemed to dry up. She carefully arranged everything: copies of the red book, transfer bills, papers related to her portion of the money, proof of Nam’s betrayal.

Then she hired a lawyer.

During that “special” family meeting, at a luxurious café in the center of District 3, Ngoc showed each piece of paper to Nam’s parents. Silence covered the table. Then Mrs. Huong spoke up, her voice lost:

“The story of the child… the children love the dough…”

Ngoc smiled. “Yes, I’m no longer a child. And I’m not my daughter-in-law either.”

She pushed to the last file.

“This is a lawsuit to reclaim property and denounce fraudulent appropriation. I contributed 1 billion 7 billion to buy this house, now in Mr. Nam’s own name – I have proof. And I will pursue it to the end.”

Nam turned pale. He didn’t expect that the girl who was once gentle and gentle next to him could be so cold.

“Ngoc, it’s not worth making a big deal. That house… Let’s let you change your name again…”

Ngoc looked straight at him: “No need. I will get back what belongs to me, before the law.”

The lawsuit quickly “heated” the whole neighborhood where Nam’s family lived. Relatives whispered to each other about the girl who “dared to sue her fiancé”. But in the end, Ngoc won the lawsuit. The court sentenced Nam to return the value of the house corresponding to the percentage of her contribution. Not to mention, the incident caused him to lose his job because of ethical violations in the company.

When receiving the money back through authorization from the lawyer, Ngoc only said one sentence:

“I have to thank your whole family. Thanks to everyone, I woke up early.”

The next year, Ngoc bought a small apartment in District 7 – in her own name. She began to study Economic Law, joined groups to support women who were deceived and misappropriated property. Not for revenge, but for self-healing.

She knows: there are inevitable wounds, but she has a choice—to live with a smile, or to be a victim of the past forever.

Tumingin nang diretso sa kanya si Ngoc: “Hindi na kailangan. Ibabalik ko ang pag-aari ko, sa harap ng batas.”

Mabilis na “pinainit” ng demanda ang buong kapitbahayan kung saan nakatira ang pamilya ni Nam. Ang mga kamag-anak ay bumulong sa isa’t isa tungkol sa batang babae na “naglakas-loob na idemanda ang kanyang nobyo”. Ngunit sa huli, nanalo si Ngoc sa demanda. Hinatulan ng korte si Nam na ibalik ang halaga ng bahay na tumutugma sa porsyento ng kanyang kontribusyon. Bukod pa rito, dahil sa insidente, nawalan siya ng trabaho dahil sa mga paglabag sa etikal sa kumpanya.

Nang matanggap ang pera pabalik sa pamamagitan ng pahintulot mula sa abogado, isang pangungusap lamang ang sinabi ni Ngoc:

“Kailangan kong pasalamatan ang buong pamilya mo. Salamat sa lahat, maaga akong nagising.”

Nang sumunod na taon, bumili si Ngoc ng isang maliit na apartment sa District 7 – sa kanyang sariling pangalan. Nagsimula siyang mag-aral ng batas pang-ekonomiya, sumali sa mga grupo upang suportahan ang mga kababaihan na nalinlang at na-abuso ang ari-arian. Hindi para sa paghihiganti, kundi para sa pagpapagaling sa sarili.

Alam niya: may mga hindi maiiwasang sugat, ngunit mayroon siyang pagpipilian—na mamuhay nang may ngiti, o maging biktima ng nakaraan magpakailanman.