My Ex Takes My Daughter

On the weekend, sunlight streamed through the large floor-to-ceiling windows of the music store, casting a warm glow over rows of gleaming pianos. The wooden piano bodies radiated a gentle warmth, and the air was filled with a faint scent of wood. I held Tina's small hand, walking slowly among the pianos. My daughter had just turned six and had been learning piano for half a year; her fingertips already had some initial strength. My gaze settled on a mid-range piano; its black body bore sleek lines, and the keys felt delicate to the touch. "Tina, do you want this one?" I crouched down and gently touched her ear-length hair. Tina nodded eagerly and stepped up to the piano. Her little finger lightly tapped: "Ding — dong —" The clear, crisp sound echoed softly through the quiet music store. Her eyes sparkled as she said, "Mom, this sound is so beautiful, like a bird singing!" I smiled and stood up, just about to call the clerk, when a familiar voice suddenly spoke from behind: "Bella Scott?" My body froze instantly, as if my blood had turned to ice. That voice, even after seven years, still stirred a sharp ache deep within me. Taking a deep breath, I slowly turned around. Coming into view was Charles Jones, tall and upright, dressed in a sharply tailored dark gray suit. He had shed the awkwardness of seven years ago, now carrying a more mature and steady air, though the confident look between his brows remained unchanged. "It really is you." Charles stepped forward a couple of paces, his gaze resting on my face for a few seconds before sweeping over Tina. "Long time no see." "Long time no see." I pulled my gaze away and took a step back, pulling Tina with me as my fingertips tightened slightly. Tina ducked behind me a little, peeking out with half her head. "Mom, who is he?" "A friend I know." I don't want the child exposed to complicated pasts too early. Charles Jones's gaze rested on the piano before us, then swept over my cotton-linen dress and flat shoes, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Buying a piano for the child?" I didn't respond, which he took as agreement. "This piano is too low-end." He tapped the piano keys. "The tone is thin and the touch average—hardly ideal for a child's early learning." Starting out in piano lessons is important; you can't just settle. "I think it's quite good." I looked up at him. "It suits her current level. When her skills improve, we can upgrade to a better one." Charles paused briefly, his tone tentative: "Bella, over the years... have you been well?" I looked at him quietly, offering no reply. He took my silence as agreement: "If you're having financial difficulties, there's no need to force it." I know raising a child on your own isn't easy. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, feeling a touch of irony. Did he really think I was still the woman from seven years ago who depended on him? "That piano," Charles gestured toward the pianos on display, his tone firm, "I bought it for Tina, as a welcome gift." "No, thank you." I immediately declined, "Mr. Jones, we don't need it." "Bella Scott, you don't need to be polite with me." Charles frowned, "I was at fault back then, but the child is innocent." She can't settle for less when learning piano; only the piano suits a gifted child. "Mr. Jones," I interrupted, meeting his gaze directly, "First of all, I haven't been polite with you." Secondly, my daughter doesn't need your "compensation." I took out my phone, opened the photo album, and handed it to him. "This is our piano, bought a year ago." Also, I'm currently a contracted piano teacher at the City Concert Hall, with my students consistently topping their grade exams. Providing for me and my daughter is more than enough; Mr. Jones need not trouble himself. Charles's expression darkened instantly, and he opened his mouth in shock. "You..." "We still have things to do; we'll leave first." I grabbed Tina's hand and was about to leave. "Bella!" Charles hurriedly called after me. "About back then, I know you still blame me, but I..." "Mr. Jones," I stopped in my tracks, my voice cooling slightly, "I've long forgotten what happened in the past." Please don't disturb our lives anymore going forward. Outside the music store, Tina looked up with her little face. "Mom, that man was so strange. Why did he want to buy me a piano?" I crouched down and ruffled her hair. "Because he knows Mom," I said. But we have our own piano. We don't need one given by someone else, right? Tina nodded, half understanding, pulling my hand as she bounced. "Right! Our piano at home sounds the best!" Mom, let's go home to practice the piano. I want to play "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" for you today! "Okay." I smiled and agreed, feeling completely clear inside. The past is the past; I just want to protect the little angel by my side.