Chapter 2My Boyfriend Shielded Me from a Lab Fire and Lost a Layer of Skin. So I Broke Up With Him.

But as long as he could give my dad a fighting chance, I was willing to endure anything.

In a fraction of a second, the man withdrew his gaze.

"You must be Robert Davis's family member. Have a seat."

His voice was freezing cold and completely detached.

I remembered when I first had a crush on him, he always wore this same unapproachable, distant expression.

He tipped his chin toward the chair across from him, and then...

He looked back down and continued writing his notes.

Was he—

Pretending not to recognize me?

The thought flashed through my mind, but I instantly dismissed it.

How could he pretend to be so calm facing someone he despised?

He was a proud, arrogant guy. Back when I was relentlessly pursuing him, if he got annoyed, he would just turn and walk away without sparing me a single word.

But thinking about it logically, it made sense.

I was wearing a surgical mask and had bangs now.

And so many years had passed.

—He probably genuinely didn't recognize me.

The heavy stone hanging in my chest finally dropped.

Sitting across from him, my eyes involuntarily drifted to those shocking, disfigured hands.

The raised, hypertrophic burn scars stood out violently against his otherwise pale skin.

My heart squeezed.

The agonizing pain I had buried deep inside me flared up again.

Years ago, a girl in our chemistry lab group made a reckless operational error that triggered a flash fire. Instantly, flames shot across the bench.

Liam happened to be standing right next to me.

With terrifyingly fast reflexes, he shielded my face with his hands.

In the fraction of a second his hands caught the fire, massive patches of skin blistered into horrifying, raw red flesh. It was gruesome.

Crying, I asked him why he did it.

He looked down, gently wiping my tears away, his eyes completely sincere.

"Because it was you. I'd do it a thousand times."

Those scars made me absolutely certain Liam was the one.

Which is exactly why, on the day I broke up with him, I used those very scars to end it.

The vicious words were still ringing in my ears.

"Do you know... every time I look at those hands, it makes me sick to my stomach."

"I can't stand looking at them for another second."

He probably hated my guts.

The scars he took for me were rewarded with that vile, ungrateful face.

...

"Ms. Davis?"

I didn't realize when Liam had looked up, but his gaze was now locked firmly onto my face.

"Yes, I'm here."

He raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, noticing exactly where my eyes had been glued.

"My hands won't cause you any physiological discomfort, will they?"