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Scarred by Love / Chapter 2: Unmasked and Unwanted
Scarred by Love

Scarred by Love

Author: Michael Branch


Chapter 2: Unmasked and Unwanted

Suddenly, I lost all desire to go back inside.

I sent Natalie a message and left.

I had to face the facts.

Our feelings for each other were real.

But the distance caused by the scar on my face was real, too.

That night, as soon as Natalie came home, anger was already written all over her face.

She vented her frustration at me without holding back.

“As my boyfriend, what does it mean for you to leave on my birthday?”

“Just because I refused your proposal, you have to throw a tantrum? Pick a better time.”

“Derek, when did you become so childish?”

I took a deep breath and tried to explain calmly:

“...I overheard your conversation with Rachel.”

“I just didn’t want to spoil your mood.”

“After all, it seems you don’t really need me, right?”

As I spoke, I searched her face for a hint of guilt or discomfort.

But there was nothing.

She just froze for a moment, then changed the subject as if nothing had happened. Natalie avoided my eyes, scrolling her phone, her thumb moving fast.

“Rachel’s just blunt—don’t take it to heart.”

“By the way, I have a college reunion the day after tomorrow, so I probably can’t go out with you. Just letting you know.”

But we had set that date a week in advance.

Afterward, there might be changes at work for me.

I’d wanted to use this time to enjoy some closeness.

But once again, I was being stood up.

I don’t know when, but our relationship had already slipped to the bottom of her priorities.

“It’s a college reunion. Can I come with you?”

I didn’t want to miss one of our few chances to be together.

But impatience flashed in her eyes.

“You don’t even know my classmates—what would you do there?”

“Can you not make things difficult for me?”

We were both alumni from the same university.

I had friends who were her classmates.

Their gathering was clearly open to bringing partners.

Looking at her frown,

There was nothing more to say.

I let out a bitter laugh and didn’t insist.

Just as I was about to head to the bedroom, she called out:

“Fine, fine, you can come.”

“But can you just... wear the mask? I really don’t want to deal with questions tonight.”

In truth, there weren’t many scars left on my face.

When the soup spilled, most of it hit my shoulders and neck.

Only a few drops splashed onto my face.

After hearing her words, I felt a pang of bitterness, but didn’t object.

I just nodded, swallowing the sting. The house felt small, like the walls were listening, taking in every awkward silence.

On the day of the reunion, we both dressed up.

When old classmates gather again, everyone wants to show they’re doing well.

But the mask was still too conspicuous.

The reunion was held at a suburban steakhouse, the kind with neon beer signs and sticky tables. The air smelled of cheap beer and overcooked fries, and the clink of glasses rang out over the hum of conversation.

After some small talk, someone steered the conversation toward us.

“Back then, you two were really the perfect couple.”

“Natalie is even more beautiful now, but our campus heartthrob—why are you so bundled up?”

I was caught off guard by the sudden attention.

I gave a couple of awkward laughs, about to brush it off.

But Natalie quickly jumped in, almost like she was facing a crisis:

“He’s had an allergy lately, don’t mind him.”

After she spoke, she shot me a warning look.

I sighed and nodded along.

“Yeah, I’m allergic to cold air—”

I tried to inject a bit of humor, but my voice trailed off as the laughter faded. The air felt thick, the clatter of silverware suddenly much too loud.

Before I could finish, I suddenly felt the mask pulled from my face.

“The heating’s great in here—you can take it off even if you’re allergic. Senior, you really know how to make excuses—”

A junior was holding my mask, frozen in shock.

Her movement had also tugged away part of my scarf.

The scar was exposed to the air.

My hands trembled, a flush creeping up my neck, heartbeat thudding in my ears. In the dead silence, Natalie knocked over a glass.

It shattered, the sharp sound ringing out.

Her face was frighteningly dark.

The junior apologized over and over:

“Sorry... I didn’t mean to, I didn’t know...”

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault.”

I shook my head and, under everyone’s curious gaze, put the mask back on.

I was used to these stares.

But Natalie clearly wasn’t.

Her knuckles turned white as she gripped her fork, her jaw tense.

She was clearly forcing herself to swallow her embarrassment and frustration.

Finally, someone asked how I got the scar.

The irritation Natalie had been suppressing finally exploded.

Just as I was about to speak, she slammed her fork down.

She grabbed her purse and stormed out.

Before leaving, she shot me a cold glare:

“Have you never eaten before?”

“Still not leaving? Are you not embarrassed enough?”

Natalie strode away in high heels.

By the time I caught up, she shook off my hand with force.

She picked up her purse and threw it at me.

“You can’t even keep a mask on—what else can I expect from you?”

“Now look, everyone’s laughing at me. Are you happy now?”

“I shouldn’t have given in and brought you here.”

I suddenly felt utterly powerless.

“They didn’t mean any harm.”

“Besides, I can’t wear a mask and scarf for the rest of my life...”

Natalie looked at me with disgust and sneered:

“Then just stay a disfigured freak for your whole life.”

She got in her car and drove off.

She didn’t show up for days after that.

Maybe, back when I was first burned, her feelings of sympathy and affection were real.

Her promises were real, too.

But as time passed...

That bit of old love had long been diluted by the tedium brought by this face.

With her circumstances, being with me as I am now was truly a sacrifice.

I didn’t want to use gratitude to morally bind her.

It wouldn’t hurt to indulge her a little more.

Having figured this out, I decided to take the initiative and apologize.

On the weekend, I brought gifts to visit her.

Whenever we’d argued before, Natalie would go back to her parents’ house.

This time was no exception.

But what I didn’t expect was for Rachel to answer the door.

She froze when she saw me, then sneered with open disdain:

“Natalie, your campus heartthrob boyfriend is here.”

She stressed the words “campus heartthrob.”

I awkwardly adjusted the scarf around my neck.

I looked at Natalie, who was sitting on the sofa, holding her little nephew in her arms.

Her face was full of irritation and impatience:

“Why’d you come without telling me?”

Clearly, I’d interrupted their family gathering.

I set the gift down awkwardly.

“I texted you last night, thought you’d seen it...”

“I just wanted to see you. I’ll go now.”

Natalie was about to say something,

but was interrupted by a sharp cry.

Her nephew pointed at me, wailing hysterically:

“Monster! He’s a monster!”

“Auntie, beat the monster! Tyler’s scared!”

The kid’s shrieks ricocheted off the living room walls. Someone’s fork clattered onto a plate in the kitchen. His words hit me harder than any adult’s could. For a second, I was eight years old again, the weird kid everyone avoided.

The awkwardness hung in the air.

Everyone rushed to comfort the child, and only then did Natalie look at me.

“Since you’re here, have a meal before you go.”

“Kids say whatever comes to mind—you can’t hold it against them.”

I wasn’t stupid; I could tell my arrival had ruined the mood.

I wanted to refuse.

But I couldn’t resist Natalie’s mom’s enthusiastic insistence. The faint sound of a Browns game played on TV in the background, Buckeyes memorabilia covering the walls, a casserole cooling on the counter.

I was pulled over to the sofa.

But as soon as I sat down, I regretted it.

Their smiles were tight, polite as plastic. I could feel the chill even with the heater blasting.

Everyone else was local—I was the only outsider.

I didn’t know if it was on purpose or not,

but everyone slipped into quick, regional small-town Ohio slang.

They spoke so quickly, I could barely understand anything,

let alone join in.

Awkwardly, I reached for a drink to ease my discomfort,

only to find something even more humiliating:

there wasn’t even a cup set out for me.

Maybe they thought I couldn’t understand,

so Natalie and Rachel spoke openly right in front of me.

“Are you really set on him?” Rachel asked.

Natalie frowned, clearly irritated.

“How should I know?”

“Why should I have to pay for his choices? It’s not like I asked him to save me.”

“Spending the rest of my life for him—I just don’t think it’s worth it.”

This part, I understood perfectly.

Maybe I’d expected it all along, but hearing it confirmed, I felt oddly calm.

My fist clenched white, but I felt no pain.

Even the voices around me blurred, became unreal.

I braced myself, planning to find a chance to say goodbye.

Suddenly, everyone burst out laughing.

I instinctively turned my head and saw that everyone was looking at me.

Their faces all showed varying degrees of contempt and ridicule.

Natalie looked at me and said offhandedly:

“My brother says he has connections.”

“Why don’t you spend some money and get some plastic surgery?”

Her brother chimed in naturally:

“There are things Natalie can’t say, so I’ll say them.”

“You know, your appearance really isn’t presentable.”

“Standing next to my sister, you’re not only scary but also an embarrassment for her.”

“If you don’t care, that’s fine, but you should at least think about her.”

“Don’t be so selfish.”

As he spoke, he handed me a business card.

For a plastic surgery clinic in Columbus.

I didn’t take it, but looked over at Natalie.

“Is this what you want to say too?”

She frowned:

“My brother’s doing this for your own good.”

“He’s thinking of you—what more do you want?”

I almost laughed.

I don’t regret what I did for her.

But this scene chilled me to the bone.

My silence irritated Rachel.

She took the business card and stuffed it into my pocket by force.

She grabbed my collar and warned:

“If Natalie didn’t like you, do you really think you’d have a shot? Seriously, you should be grateful we even let you in the door.”

I could feel the heat of their stares, sharp as thumbtacks. In that small, overheated living room, I felt miles from everyone.

Everyone tacitly approved.

No one moved.

Natalie didn’t even look at me.

She was busy feeding fruit to Tyler.

I quietly freed my collar,

smoothed it, straightened it.

Looking at Rachel, I said, “Are you so bitter because you’re not even as good as me?”

“At least I’m still Natalie’s boyfriend.”

I looked her up and down, smiling faintly.

“And you? Just the third wheel.”

Rachel’s face twisted for a moment.

“Enough!” Natalie snapped.

“This is my house—who are you to lecture my guests?”

“Derek, don’t overestimate yourself!”

So, she wasn’t unaware of what was happening here.

She just didn’t want to stand up for me.

Where Natalie couldn’t see,

Rachel smiled—a smug, mocking smile.

“You’re finished, campus heartthrob.”

She patted my shoulder and walked away.

Natalie looked at me, her face full of disgust.

“Apologize to Rachel, or there’s nothing left for us to talk about.”

We weren’t physically far apart, but I felt a vast chasm between us.

Some things, even knowing the answer, I still had to ask—just to humiliate myself.

“Natalie, do you remember what you said when I was in the hospital?”

Back then, she’d looked at the bandages on my shoulder,

crying so hard her tears wouldn’t stop from heartbreak.

She said that even if I was scarred, she’d marry no one but me in this life.

But now, her face was cold.

“That’s a separate matter.”

“Adults shouldn’t expect others to take responsibility for your choices.”

“Besides, as a grown man, aren’t you ashamed to keep playing the victim?”

“You kind of disgust me, Derek.”

As soon as she finished, a hot stream splashed across my face.

I didn’t even notice when Tyler had snuck up with a water gun.

As he sprayed my face, he shouted:

“You monster! Always bullying Aunt Rachel and Aunt Natalie—I’m going to destroy you!”

“Ugly freak! Disgusting! Get out of my house!”

Faced with the sudden commotion, everyone seemed to panic.

But in truth, they only scolded the child in words—no one tried to stop him.

The scar on my face wasn’t fully healed, and the hot water stung like fire.

In the past, Natalie would have rushed over, heart aching.

But now, she just watched coldly.

“Didn’t you hear? Tyler says he hates you.”

“Either leave my house, or apologize to Rachel!”

I looked at her for a long moment.

Picked up my coat and stood up. At the door, I paused:

“Natalie, I think our relationship needs a break.”

I stepped out into the dusk, shivering in the raw Ohio air, feeling a weight lift even as the hurt settled deeper. The sound of the door shutting behind me echoed for a long time, far louder than any of the things we’d said inside.

The wind cut through my coat, but for the first time in months, I could breathe. The house behind me felt a thousand miles away.

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