Chapter 6

Meritt’s POV

I turned around, the cold water still dropping from my trembling hands.

Standing just inside the restroom door, holding a towel and looking at me with warm eyes, was Professor Vance. She was my favorite vocal instructor from my university days, the one who had believed in my potential more than anyone else.

"Meritt? Oh my goodness, it's you!" she gasped, her face beaming with a bright smile.

She hurried over and pulled me into a tight hug.

For a second, I just stood there, overwhelmed by the warmth.

"Professor Vance," I managed to say, forcing a weak smile. "It's so good to see you."

"Look at you," she said, pulling back to gently squeeze my arms. Her eyes quickly scanned my face. She saw my hair, the edge of the scar on my neck, but she didn't flinch. Her gaze only softened with deep sympathy.

"How have you been, my dear? I received the email from the Teatro di Roma, did you get my recommendation?"

"I did," I nodded, feeling a genuine spark of gratitude push through the numbness in my chest. "Thank you so much, Professor. I've already accepted their offer. I'm doing the demo track this morning."

She clapped her hands, her eyes heavy with tears.

"Oh, Meritt, that is wonderful news! I always knew you had too much talent to stay hidden away. It's about time you returned to the spotlight where you belong."

She reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, briefly exposing the full extent of my scarred cheek. She sighed heavily.

"It must have been so hard for you," she murmured softly. "Going through all of that trauma, losing your debut... and being all alone all these years, without anyone to take care of you."

I swallowed a huge lump in my throat.

Alone.

That was exactly what I had been. Legally married, but alone.

"I'm surviving," I said quietly, nodding.

"Well, you are meant to thrive, not just survive," she smiled, wrapping her arm through mine. "My husband is out there waiting for me. We're celebrating our anniversary today. Come, you have to say hello to him! He remembers all those hours you spent practicing in the music room."

I couldn't say no to her. I took a deep breath, wore a polite smile, and let her lead me out of the restroom.

We went back through the quiet, dining room. As we approached a large table near the windows, my footsteps suddenly faltered.

Sitting across from a distinguished older gentleman, Professor Vance's husband, were two very familiar figures.

Michael and Stella.

They had moved from our private table to join him. I watched as Michael politely nodded at something the older man said, while Stella sat right beside him, her shoulder brushing his, laughing behind her hand.

"Darling, look who I ran into!"

Professor Vance announced cheerfully as we reached the table.

Mr. Vance stood up, with a bright smile on his face.

"Meritt! It's been years. It's wonderful to see you." He turned to Michael and Stella, gesturing toward us. "Mr. Sterling, this is the brilliant student my wife is always talking about."

Then, Mr. Vance gestured toward Michael and Stella.

"Meritt, this is Michael Sterling, a very important business partner of mine. And this lovely young lady next to him is his wife."

His wife. Good Lord.

The air in the room suddenly grew heavier.

I stood still, staring at the table. Michael raised his head up and the polite smile vanished from his face instantly. He instantly became pale like he just saw a ghost.

Beside him, Stella froze. Her eyes drifted from me to the Vances with overwhelming panic all over her gaze. Her fingers gripped the edge of the table, trying to hold on to something so she wouldn't fall.

"It's a pleasure," Professor Vance said, not knowing about the suffocating tension brewing.

She looked between me and Stella, nodding her head innocently

"You know, Meritt, you and Mrs. Sterling should be the exact same age."

I looked at Michael. He was staring at me, his chest rising and falling asleep he struggled to breathe. He was terrified, terrified that the prestigious Mr. Vance would realize he was sitting next to a fraud.

Terrified that his image would be destroyed by the scarred woman standing in front of him.

And at that point, a cold amusing feeling filled my chest as my mind lit up with an idea.

"Actually," I started, my voice clear and steady. "I'm the one who…"

Dang!

"Oh my gosh! I am so, so sorry!"

Stella practically jumped out of her chair. She had violently swiped her hand across the table, knocking her cup of coffee right onto the tablecloth.

The dark liquid splashed everywhere, narrowly missing Mr. Vance's suit.

Everyone's attention snapped to the mess. Waiters immediately rushed over with towels.

In the chaos, Michael caught my eye.

He didn't speak, but he didn't have to. He looked at me and gave a desperate shake of his head. His dark eyes were pleading with me.

Don't do it. Don't say it. Protect her.

An intense feeling of hatred and pent up agony filled my heart, threatening to drown me.

Even now, even as she sat there wearing my title and my anniversary dress, he was still protecting her. He was begging me to swallow my humiliation so she wouldn't have to feel any.

I slowly reached for a glass of ice water from the table and took a sip, letting the cold liquid cool the burning rage in my soul.

As I set the glass back down, the chandelier light caught the silver glow on my left ring finger.

Professor Vance paused, handing a napkin to a waiter. She looked at my hand, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Meritt? Are you wearing a wedding band? Good heavens, are you married?"

Stella stopped breathing, Michael froze, his eyes locked onto my face in terror.

I looked down at the simple silver ring on my finger. The ring he had bought out of duty. The ring that had shackled me to a ghost for six grueling years.

"Yes," I said smoothly, my voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "I've been married for six years."

Professor Vance gasped in complete delight.

“Six years! Oh, you kept that very quiet. Who is the lucky man? Why have you never mentioned him to me?”

I didn't blink. I didn't hesitate. I didn't look at Stella.

I looked straight into Michael’s desperate eyes. Slowly, I raised my hand and pointed a single finger directly at his chest.

"Him," I said, a chilling smile curving on the corners of my lips.

“He is my husband.”