I was worried.
What if the scars on my face had made me ugly?
What if Mr. Bongajum finally saw my face and didn't like what he saw?
And what if my boss; who was actually my runaway husband; suddenly saw me as a threat that should never leave the hospital alive that day?
What if…
My mind was full of questions, one after another.
Sometimes I felt like my entire existence had become a puzzle that even I could not solve.
I sat quietly, lost in deep thought. That was when something suddenly crossed my mind. It had been more than a year since I last used a cell phone.
More than a year.
When I thought about it carefully, it sounded strange and unbelievable. In this modern world where everyone depended on their phones, I had lived all this time without one.
But that was simply the life I had been forced to live.
I suddenly felt chills running through my whole body as if I had a fever.
But the truth was, I wasn't sick.
It was fear.
Pure fear.
Imagine surviving such a terrible accident and instead of feeling happy that I was finally going to return to normal life, I was deeply worried about what would happen next.
My life had become complicated.
Yes, I had recently met someone like Mr. Bongajum; a man who, in many ways, seemed like the kind of person any woman would admire.
But because of everything I had experienced in the past, trusting anyone completely had become difficult.
My heart kept reminding me that appearances could sometimes be deceiving.
So I began counting the days carefully.
Every single day.
Every hour.
Every minute.
Even every second.
Each moment that passed was bringing me closer to the day when my face would finally be revealed again.
And that moment felt very important.
Finally, the long-awaited day arrived.
But instead of excitement, my heart was filled with uncertainty.
Very early that morning, the sky was just beginning to brighten. The insects that usually chirped through the night had gone silent, and somewhere in the distance a rooster could be heard crowing loudly.
Those were ordinary sounds of morning.
Yet for some reason, they sounded different to me that day.
Maybe it was because I had never paid attention to such little things before.
But now, every sound, every moment, and every movement around me felt important.
As I sat there thinking deeply, something suddenly came to my mind.
Life was not just a coincidence.
Maybe life was something guided by fate.
How else could I explain the strange situation I had found myself in?
Out of all the houses in the world, I ended up working in the same house for the man I had once married; the man who took everything from me and disappeared.
Yet here I was, hidden under the excuse of an accident, living right under his roof without him knowing who I truly was.
If fate had allowed me to remain there this long, then maybe there was still a reason for it.
Maybe the truth would soon reveal itself.
But that morning, I couldn't concentrate on anything.
My thoughts were too heavy.
Then suddenly I heard the sound of a phone ringing inside the house.
It was my runaway husband calling.
He was speaking with the woman who was preparing to become his new wife; at least if I was no longer around to stand in his way.
After ending the call, she walked up to me.
"Be ready in ten minutes," she said. "My husband is coming to pick us up. We are going to the hospital."
"Okay, madam," I replied quietly.
I noticed how easily she called him her husband, even though their marriage was not yet complete in the traditional sense.
But I said nothing.
Instead, I quietly prepared myself.
Deep inside my heart, I took what felt like the last breath of hope.
A few minutes later, I heard the sound of a car stopping outside the gate.
He didn't even bother entering the compound.
He simply stopped outside and honked the horn.
My madam walked out first, and I followed closely behind her.
We both entered the car.
As the car moved toward the hospital, my heart began beating faster.
It felt as if I was walking toward the most important moment of my life.
Or perhaps toward the end of everything.
But no matter what happened, I knew I had to be brave.
"Here we come," I muttered quietly to myself.
Soon, the car stopped in front of the hospital courtyard.
My boss and his darling stepped out first.
Then I followed them slowly as we walked toward the doctor's office.
The moment of truth had finally arrived.
We entered the doctor's office and sat down quietly. The doctor looked at me carefully and smiled.
"Are you not happy that your face will finally be seen today?" he asked kindly. "Why do you look so downcast?"
"I am fine, doctor," I replied softly.
He leaned back in his chair and spoke in a calm voice.
"I understand you might be afraid that your face could have been affected by the accident. It is possible in some cases, but let us stay hopeful and pray that everything is alright."
Those words, though meant to comfort me, only made my heart beat faster.
Now I had something new to worry about.
Not only was my identity about to be revealed; which could expose me to danger, but there was also the fear that my face might not look the same anymore.
What if the accident had changed my appearance?
I had not seen my own face for a very long time.
So long that sometimes it felt as if I had forgotten what I truly looked like.
The doctor then stood up and asked me to follow him to the department where the cast and bandages would be removed.
I walked slowly behind him while a nurse and another staff member prepared the equipment needed for the procedure.
Everything felt serious and quiet.
Soon the doctor began the process of removing the cast from my head.
It was done slowly and carefully so that no pressure would affect the healing wounds.
Piece by piece, the hard layers were taken off.
After that, the nurses gently cleaned my face and checked the areas that had been covered for so long.
"Are you feeling okay?" one of them asked.
"Yes," I replied.
"Are you comfortable?"
"Yes… I am fine."
But deep inside, I was still very afraid.
After everything was done, they asked me to step outside and wait in the hospital waiting room while the doctor completed some notes about my treatment.
My madam was there with me.
She had stepped outside earlier but soon returned and sat near me.
The moment she saw my uncovered face properly, she looked at me closely.
"Finally," she said with a small laugh. "Your face is back. At least now I won't be living with someone who looks like a masquerade under the same roof."
I said nothing.
There was no reason to reply.
Then she added, "Let us wait for my husband. He should be here soon to pick us up and take us home."
At that moment, my heart began to race again.
Very soon, he would see my face.
My runaway husband.
The man who once called me his wife.
How would he react when he saw me standing there?
Would he recognize me immediately?
Would he pretend not to know me?
Or would he become angry?
I was worried.
Part of me knew it was risky for him to see my face now.
It was dangerous.
But another part of me also knew I still needed to remain in that house for a little longer if I wanted to recover what truly belonged to me.
While I was still thinking about all this, something unexpected happened.
My madam's phone suddenly rang.
She picked it up.
"Yes?" she said.
Then I heard the voice from the phone speaker.
It was him.
My runaway husband.
"Yes, I am already heading to the hospital now," he said. "Something delayed me a little at the office, but I will be there very soon. Has the doctor finished removing the bandages?"
"Yes, he has," she replied.
"So I am finally going to see the face of my housemaid today?" he asked.
"Yes," she said casually. "She is right here with me."
"I'm on my way," he said before ending the call.
At that moment, I felt like a gift package waiting to be opened.
My madam and I had nothing to talk about, so she stayed busy on her phone while I sat quietly beside her.
My hands were shaking slightly.
About fifteen minutes later, her phone rang again.
She answered immediately.
"Hello, babe."
"I'm outside at the hospital courtyard," he said.
"Where exactly?"
"Do you know where the hospital canteen is?"
"Not really."
"Just come outside and look up the road where I drove in earlier when I dropped you off. You will see me there with the car."
"Okay," she replied before hanging up.
Then she stood up and turned to me.
"Let's go," she said. "He is waiting for us outside."
I stood up slowly and followed her.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
In less than a minute, everything could change.
This meeting was going to be shocking.
For him.
For her.
And for me.
Because the truth was about to stand right in front of him.