Noel and I grew up together as childhood friends.

It should have been a sweet story, but shortly after we started high school, Noel bought some fireworks.

We hid in a corner and secretly lit them, watching as they exploded into vibrant sparks in the sky.

However, one firework didn’t fully ignite and suddenly exploded, sending sparks directly onto the right side of my face.

I only remember the intense pain and Noel’s panicked face.

He rushed me to the hospital, where the doctor said I had severe burns, leaving an indelible scar on the right side of my face.

It was the darkest period of my life.

My parents were constantly sighing in despair, and I, once their pride, had lost everything.

I had been studying dance from a young age, with hopes of becoming a principal dancer at a grand theater.

Now, all of that was gone.

I couldn’t bear to look in the mirror; every glimpse of my ruined face drove me to scream in madness.

Noel stayed by my bedside for an entire week, holding my hand, his eyes filled with guilt and remorse.

“Amara, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault,” his voice trembled. “I will never be repulsed by you. No matter what happens, I’ll always be by your side.”

I knew he hadn’t meant to hurt me, so I chose to believe him.

We continued together through high school, college, and shortly after graduation, we got married.

At the wedding, he gently lifted my veil and pressed his lips to the scarred side of my face, as if to reaffirm his unwavering promise with a tender, reassuring kiss.

I wanted to get cosmetic surgery before the wedding, but Noel stopped me. He said firmly,

“Cosmetic surgery is too painful. I don’t want you to suffer anymore.”

As he spoke, he gently traced the small scar on my left wrist, a remnant from an accidental cut during my parents' divorce.

I knew I couldn’t force them to stay together, but from then on, I was alone.

I rarely go out except for discussing the art exhibition with the editor.

He handles the outside world, while I manage the home front.

That was until today, when Ruby called me and insisted I attend the high school reunion.

If I didn’t go, she said she would sever our friendship.

Ruby is the only friend who has stayed by my side, apart from Noel.

As soon as I arrived at the entrance of the private room, I heard Noel chatting with a few classmates.

“How are things with Amara?” The voice was Bronx’s, Noel’s childhood friend.

Noel lit a cigarette, his tone tinged with annoyance. “Looking at her face now just makes me want to puke…”

I stood at the door, my body uncontrollably shaking.

It took me a minute to regain control.

As I turned to leave, I saw Ruby approaching.

“I thought you might stand me up…” She had intended to joke, but perhaps my appearance alarmed her.

“Amara, are you feeling unwell? Let me take you to the hospital.”

I grasped her arm and shook my head.

“It might just be the smell here. I’ll step outside for a bit.” I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead and smiled at her.

Fortunately, the bitter smile was hidden by my mask.