Mrs. Cole sank onto the cushioned piano bench, pressing her fingers to her temple like the world was giving her a headache.
“I was a gifted violinist,” she whispered. “Now… I’m irrelevant.” Her eyes burned with frustration. “They laughed at me tonight. I was nothing but a washed-up name. And now, I can’t even convince my husband to pull Simon from that school. My day couldn’t have gotten any worse.”
I wasn’t sure if she was looking for sympathy or someone to vent to. But I was surely the wrong person for it.
“I’ve known about you for a long time, Amelia.” Her voice softened slightly. “Mr. Watson used to talk about you.”
My brows lifted.
She knew him… and he talked about me?
Even though Mr. Watson was always kind and taught me a lot about music, it was surprising.
“He rarely gave praise,” the woman added, her gray eyes locking onto mine. “But he said you had extraordinary talent.”
Had. Past tense.
I bit my lip.
“Money stopped you, didn’t it?”
The words shot straight into my chest, and a wave of shame and sorrow washed over me.
“I never had those problems,” she continued, her lips twitching slightly. “But now, I finally understand what it’s like to lose control over something.”
My heart turned cold.
Was she comparing herself to me? Mrs. Cole? Someone who had everything? Someone who had been celebrated?
“Mrs. Cole… This isn’t the same,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “You had a career. You lived your dream. I… never even got the chance to.”
Our eyes locked, and for a moment, I thought I saw something like understanding in her eyes. But it wasn’t enough.
“And I don’t regret it, Mrs. Cole. It’s honestly sad that you’re using me as a comparison.”
I was done with this conversation and really wanted to go home. Taking a deep breath, I changed the subject. “I came here tonight as Simon’s tutor. I’ve said what I needed to say.” My voice grew firmer. “Simon is a bright child. He’s improved tremendously. He deserves to have his wishes respected. I strongly recommend he stay at his current school and join my group tutoring program to interact with other kids.”
A deep male voice cut through the air.“That sounds like a good idea.”
I slowly turned around, stiffening as I faced the doorway and the two newcomers.
Mr. Cole… and Zane.
His posture was relaxed, but his eyes… they were on me. Too long… too intense.
My chest tightened.
How long had they been standing there?
Zane stepped into the room, his gaze flicking to his mother. She hastily wiped her cheeks and straightened her posture. “What are you doing here already? Weren’t you supposed to be at the gala?”
The reply was curt. “It’s over.”
The tension in the room thickened.
He didn’t look away from me again as he asked in a deep and calm voice laced with something dangerous, “What’s going on here?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Mr. Cole spoke first. “Don’t act like we weren’t eavesdropping. We heard everything.”