Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine

Kellan cast a wary glance at young Allison, his thoughts swirling with doubt.

Emanuel must be playing a trick on him.

“You don’t have to lie to me if I don’t suit you.

I’ll be out of your way soon.

”

Emanuel, who had been trying to get Kellan out of his orbit for days, raised an eyebrow.

He caught a flicker of hesitation in Kellan’s expression, unexpected even for him.

“You packing already? I figured you’d have more guts than that, wheel boy.

”

Kellan's gaze drifted to the clay in his hands, its cool, smooth texture making him feel right in the moment.NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.

There was something about working with it that calmed the storm in his mind.

In those quiet moments, a girl's face, serene and smiling, often danced through his thoughts.

She was handing him something—he couldn’t remember what—but she felt tied to the memories he couldn’t access.

Snapping back to reality, Kellan said, “That’s why I need your professor’s guidance before I go.

”

Emanuel scoffed, clearly frustrated by Kellan’s skepticism.

“You think I have time for games? Ask anyone—you’ll find I don’t bother lying.

Allison, let him spin around forever, but don’t teach him anything!” With that, Emanuel turned back toward the kitchen, the fish he’d caught hanging limply in his grasp.

But as he prepared the meal, he kept sneaking glances at the two, motioning for Allison to step forward and offer some instruction.

Allison just smiled and didn't give any explanation.

“Your hands are too tense,” she said.

She knew Kellan doubted her, but proving herself wasn’t the point.

“If you follow the steps too rigidly, the result will be lifeless.

You have to feel the clay, not order it.

If it’s too soft, it will crumble.

If it’s too firm, it will crack.

You have to find a middle ground: coax it, not fight it.

” Her words, though simple, had a strange weight that eased the tension in the room.

Kellan grimaced but followed her, concentrating on the shape of the clay.

Allison's directions, though minimal, came at just the right time, and little by little, the piece of clay began to resemble a vase.

He blinked, almost in disbelief.

“It’s coming together!”

Allison nodded.

“You have the foundation, but now you have to refine it.

”

He could sense where his problem lay: his ever-restless mind was struggling against the patience and tranquillity that ceramics required.

However, I didn't expect him to learn so quickly with just a few tips.

Without a word, Allison picked up a carving tool and, with the grace of someone who had done it a thousand times before, began to etch into the clay.

In a few quick movements, the shape of a phoenix in flight began to emerge.

Her concentration was unwavering and her usual aloof demeanor seemed to intensify as she worked.

As Kellan watched her, a voice cut through his thoughts: cold, commanding.

"I'll be in charge!"

The sound of Emanuel rushing in broke Kellan’s reverie.

The older man picked up the vase from the table, his eyes widening as he inspected the delicate design.

“A phoenix rising from the ashes… reborn from fire and hardship,” Emanuel said.

“Now that’s special!”

Emanuel’s gaze was fixed on the vase, especially on the phoenix stamped on its surface.

Each brushstroke seemed to ripple with life, full of energy and resilience.

He couldn’t help but smile like a child with a secret, completely unaware that the fish in his pot had started to burn.

Kellan, for his part, looked at the vase with a look of understanding.

He had definitely underestimated Allison.

“So you really are Emanuel’s teacher,” Kellan said, his voice confident.

Allison did not confirm it, but neither did she deny it.

"I have never claimed to be one.

"

But Emanuel? His pride was impossible to hide.

“It doesn’t matter! As far as I’m concerned, she’s my teacher!”

It was funny how life worked sometimes.

When they first crossed paths, Emanuel was teetering on the edge of a creative crisis so severe it was almost eating him up—literally.

His hair was starting to fall out.

But after a few words from Allison and seeing her pottery skills up close, everything seemed to fall into place.

He was so in awe that he practically wanted to call her his teacher on the spot.

Kellan didn’t waste any time.

“You want to teach my niece? Name your price.

And I can offer you a place to stay.

I heard you just finalized your divorce.

”

“I’m fine, thanks.

I won’t be sleeping under a bridge anytime soon,” Allison replied, as cool as ever.

Kellan shrugged, unfazed.

“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.

”

He handed her a gold-embossed business card.

Allison looked at it, unimpressed.

Not realizing its value, she stuffed it into her purse.

“Sure, and if I end up broke and homeless, I’ll look you up.

”

Emanuel, who was still lost in his own world, suddenly shouted: “Enough chatter! Get to work on that fish tank I haven’t finished yet! And next time you come, I’ll serve you fish in it.

Oh no, wait – the fish!”

She ran into the kitchen, panic written on her face.

Allison laughed softly at his frantic exit and, without missing a beat, pulled out a sketch.

She picked up a block of clay and was already measuring its firmness with her fingers.

Kellan instinctively stepped back, positioning himself where he could watch her every move.

Her hands worked the clay with ease, shaping it into a bowl in no time.

Kellan tried to help her, mimicking the way she balanced the pressure as if it were second nature.

Suddenly, Kellan broke the silence.

“Do you still have that perfume from two years ago?”