Page 1 of He couldn’t recognize me after my face was disfigured by the fire

The moment I stepped into the living room, I froze completely.

Thomas rose to greet me, rimless glasses perched on his straight nose, making him appear even more distinguished and aloof.

"Hello, you must be Ms. Fields. Please come in." His tone was polite, his expression calm and unruffled.

Only then did I realize that Thomas was my employer.

The impoverished student I had once controlled with money, forced into submission, had now achieved success.

And apparently, he had a child too.

"Samuel, say hello to Ms. Fields." He gently patted the boy's shoulder, his voice tender.

I suppressed the urge to turn and flee, steadying my voice: "Hello, Samuel. I'm Ms. Fields, and I'll be teaching you piano."

I couldn't help but look at Thomas.

His gaze remained on the child, a smile playing at his lips, completely different from his earlier detachmentclearly a loving father.

I was led to the music room, and the moment I pushed open the door, my breath caught.

In the center of the room sat a piano. It was the birthday gift my grandfather had won for me at an Italian auction.

Inside the lid, a faint scratch was barely visible.

I had carved it with my fingernail as a child during a tantrum about practicing.

Later, when my family went bankrupt, this million-dollar piano was seized and sold.

Now it appeared here, like an absurd reunion.

Memories flooded back like a tide. I forced down my churning emotions and began today's lesson.

Samuel was cheerful and suddenly looked up at me: "Ms. Fields, could you play something else? I'm tired of hearing all these pieces."

I nodded, and the moment my fingers touched the keys, it felt like awakening sleeping memories.

A familiar melody flowed from my fingertips.

It was an obscure pop songone I had insisted Thomas play with me during our relationship.

When the piece ended, I looked up in a daze to find Thomas standing in the doorway.

Half his face was hidden in shadow, his expression unreadable.

"Ms. Fields," his voice was cold as frost, "why did you choose that piece? It's not really suitable for a beginner, is it?"

Samuel hugged Thomas's leg, explaining innocently: "Dad, I already learned everything Ms. Fields taught me today! I asked her to play something random."

After a pause, he added: "But what a coincidenceyou know how to play this song too, right?"

My heart clenched painfully, regretting that I'd gotten too carried away and forgotten my place.

Thomas was silent for a moment, then said coldly: "I don't know it. It's nothing worth listening to anyway."

In that instant, it felt like someone had stomped on my chest.

To him, that relationship had been nothing but a humiliating transaction.

As I was leaving, he suddenly said: "Where do you live? I can give you a ride if it's on my way."

"No need." My refusal was almost instinctive. "I can get home on my own."

He insisted: "It's hard to get a cab around here, and it's far from the subway station. I was heading out anyway."

With him putting it that way, I had no choice but to get in his car.

The car was quiet. He focused on driving while I closed my eyes and pretended to rest.

When we reached my destination, he politely opened the door for me, just as Esther came to meet me.

I instinctively moved to shield her behind me.

He glanced at Esther, then at me, asking calmly: "She's your daughter? She looks about the same age as Samuel."