Chapter 6

I turned around, drying my wet hands with a paper towel as the restroom door swung open.

Standing in the doorway was a woman with soft graying hair and kind, perceptive eyes.

My breath caught in my throat.

"Professor Mary?"

"Elodie! It really is you!" Her face lit up with genuine, overwhelming joy as she bridged the distance between us, taking both of my hands in hers. "My goodness, look at you! I’ve missed you so much, child."

Professor Mary had been my mentor during my university years, the legendary vocal coach who had trained me before my big break. Seeing her warm, familiar face brought a sudden, painful lump to my throat.

"How are you doing?" she asked gently, her gaze softening. "The Opera House in Italy called me yesterday to thank me for putting them in touch with you. Did you get their offer?"

"I did," I replied, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through my numb composure. "I accepted it last night. I'm leaving in less than a month. Thank you so much for recommending me, Professor. I don't know if I would have had the courage without your nudge."

"Oh, nonsense! You were the most talented vocalist I ever had the privilege of teaching," she said, squeezing my hands tightly. "It broke my heart when you disappeared from the stage after that horrible accident. It is an absolute crime that your voice was hidden away for so long. It’s wonderful to see you returning to where you belong."

Her eyes drifted gently to the left side of my face, taking in the jagged scar tissue partially hidden beneath my dark hair. She let out a quiet, heartbroken sigh.

"It must have been so terribly hard for you," she murmured, her voice laced with maternal warmth. "Navigating all that pain alone... without anyone by your side to take care of you."

Her words cut deep, a quiet validation of six years spent in a cold, silent vacuum.

I swallowed hard and simply nodded.

"Listen," Professor Mary said, brightening up. "My husband and I are having lunch here today. He's at our table right around the corner. Would you mind joining us for a few minutes? He always remembered how much I bragged about my star pupil."

"I'd love to," I said quietly.

Anything was better than returning to the table where Kevin and Iris sat flirting over a spread of food I couldn't touch.

I followed her down the sunlit corridor, stepping around the grand pillar toward the main dining room.

"Darling, look who I found!" Professor Mary called out happily as we approached a spacious corner booth.

Her husband stood up to greet us, but as my eyes landed on the people seated across from him, my blood ran cold.

Sitting side-by-side on the plush leather seats were Kevin and Iris.

"Oh, excellent!" Professor Mary's husband smiled warmly, completely unaware of the tension suddenly locking the air in place. He gestured to Kevin and Iris. "I was just introducing myself. I ran into a potential business partner from the Curt Group—Mr. Kevin Curt here, and his lovely wife beside him."

Kevin froze mid-breath.

His dark hazel eyes dilated in sheer, unadulterated shock as he looked at me standing beside his business associate's wife.

Beside him, Iris’s amber eyes flickered with a sudden, sharp panic, her sweet smile rigid and strained.

Professor Mary smiled brightly at them, stepping beside me and resting a proud hand on my shoulder.

"What a small world! This is Elodie, my absolute most promising student. Her musical talent is extraordinary—she's practically a genius."

She glanced between Iris and me, tilting her head thoughtfully.

"My goodness, Elodie, you and Mr. Curt's 'wife' look to be about the exact same age!"

The air stretched thin, suffocatingly tight.

I looked directly at Kevin, whose face had gone completely pale, and then at Iris, who was clutching her handbag so tightly her knuckles were white.

The utter absurdity of it—the sheer cowardice of a billionaire CEO letting strangers assume his childhood sweetheart was his wife while his actual wife stood two feet away—ignited a cold, blazing fire in my chest.

"Actually," I began, my voice clear and deliberate, "I'm the one who’s—"

Clatter!

A sharp crash cut me off as Iris abruptly jerked her arm, knocking her full cup of hot coffee directly over the polished marble table. Brown liquid splashed everywhere, soaking the tablecloth and dripping onto her pale chiffon dress.

"Oh! Goodness me! I am so sorry!" Iris gasped dramatically, jumping out of her seat in a flurry of panic. "I'm so clumsy! I'm so sorry!"

The waiter rushed over with napkins, and both Professor Mary and her husband immediately shifted their attention to help clean up the mess.

In the chaotic distraction, Kevin’s dark hazel eyes locked onto mine.

He didn't look at me with concern or affection.

Instead, he stared at me with a desperate, unspoken plea, subtly shaking his head back and forth, silently begging me not to say another word.

Silently begging me to stay in the dark.

To play the hidden ghost.

To preserve his polished reputation and spare Iris from embarrassment.

A wave of intense bitterness flooded my mouth, tasting like iron and ash.

Six years.

Six years of saving his life, giving up my face, giving up my dreams, and hiding in his shadow, only for him to look at me like a dangerous secret waiting to ruin his day.

"Oh dear, what a mess," Professor Mary said, dabbing a napkin near the edge of the table as things settled down. She turned back to me with a warm smile, reaching out to take my hand. "Are you alright, Elodie?"

As I raised my glass of water to take a slow sip, the restaurant's bright chandelier light caught the platinum band resting on my ring finger.

Professor Mary’s eyes dropped to my hand, widening in delight.

"Oh! Elodie! Is that a wedding ring? You're married?"

I lowered my glass, staring down at the cold, heavy metal encircling my finger.

A ring given out of guilt.

A ring worn in total isolation.

"Yes," I said, my voice steady, carrying through the quiet corner of the restaurant. "I've been married for six years."

"Six years?!" Professor Mary gasped softly, her eyes shining with happiness. "Oh, my goodness! Who is the lucky man? Why have you never mentioned him to me?"

The silence that followed was absolute.

I raised my head, my eyes locking directly onto Kevin's pale, terrified face.

Slowly, deliberately, I raised my right hand and pointed my finger straight across the table at him.

"He is," I said, the words falling like iron weights into the quiet room. "He is my husband.”