Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine

«It was a casual purchase at the time, but it is now out of production.

»

Kellan wasn't entirely sure if his senses were playing tricks on him, but there was a noticeable change in Allison's voice when she spoke, a subtle lightness, as if the idea of ​​perfume genuinely pleased her.

The yard was basking in the soft glow of sunlight, which cast an even warmth over everything.

Two cats zigzagged around his legs, brushing against them from time to time, their meows calling for attention.

The faint scent of plum emanating from Allison calmed the restlessness bubbling inside Kellan.

Distracted, he accidentally pushed a little too hard, making a hole in the clay he had been working on.

“Careful.

Don’t force it,” he said.

“Let the clay guide you.

Gently shape it until it starts to come together on its own, and then you can give it that final push.

”

Allison snapped her finger, guiding his hand with a subtle touch, placing his fingers where they needed to be.This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

“If you want him to have life, don’t treat him like a dead weight.

Relax,” she said softly.

“And stop curling your fingers like that.

”

Their fingertips brushed against each other and Kellan felt a subtle jolt run through him, like a spark of electricity.

He wanted to pull back, but to do so would make it too obvious, too deliberate.

Her voice lingered in the air, soft but commanding, as if only she could hold him back.

He noticed that her skin, pale but warm, was calloused on his fingers.

From where I was sitting, I could see his face, totally focused on the clay.

His bangs were a little out of place, but his hands moved with precision.

The calluses on the tips of his fingers, especially the ring and index fingers, reminded her of his own, except that his had been earned through years of handling firearms.

“You can support it a little more underneath,” he added.

Kellan mentally shook himself, realizing how ridiculous his thinking had been.

Allison? Like her? It was impossible.

He had been raised on gunpowder and violence; she seemed so indifferent, so unconcerned with the world around her.

And if she knew how to use firearms, Colton probably wouldn't still be standing.

I was thinking too much.

As the clay began to form into something more refined beneath his fingers, Kellan found himself smiling, really smiling.

It was an unusual expression for him, and the softness in his eyes surprised him.

Unbeknownst to him, Colton had entered the courtyard, his hand intertwined with Melany’s.

The sight before them stopped them dead in their tracks.

A man and a woman sitting together, molding clay.

They seemed almost at peace, as if they belonged there.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Colton asked, frowning slightly.

He squinted, trying hard to believe that the woman in front of him was Allison.

She wasn’t supposed to be here, let alone making pottery with Kellan – of all people, he was famous for his impatience with women and his unpredictable temper since his injury.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Melany replied, a hint of doubt in her voice and her eyes wide with disbelief.

As they got closer, there was no mistaking it.

It was Allison and Kellan.

A flash of jealousy crossed Melany's face, but she quickly recovered and smiled politely.

“What a small world, Allison! I didn’t expect you to be so fast.

I heard it can take weeks to track down Emanuel, maybe longer with how eccentric he is.

And not to mention his prices are sky-high…” She trailed off, as if suddenly remembering something important.

“Oh, right, silly me! You just got a nice windfall – four million, right? I guess this kind of expense must seem like chump change to you.

”

Allison didn't even look at her, as if her presence didn't exist.

Realizing that her attempt at creating tension was failing, and seeing that Allison and Kellan continued to work unfazed, Melany forced herself to start a conversation.

“You must be Mr.

Lloyd? I wasn’t expecting to find you here.

” Colton, brought out of his distracted thoughts by her words, quickly masked his surprise.

He broke away from his concentration on Allison, forcing a smile as he approached Kellan.

"I've heard a lot about you, Mr.

Lloyd.

It's a bit of a shock to meet you here.

"

The courtesy between them was practiced, almost too similar.

Kellan, however, didn’t even look up.

Instead, he kept his attention on Allison.

“Is this okay with you?”

"Yes, you have mastered the technique," she replied.

“This piece is good, no doubt, but it’s still a little embarrassing,” Kellan said, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"What's so embarrassing about it?" Allison asked, genuinely curious.

From her point of view, this was a better job than the last.

What was there to blame him for?

“Art should always strive for perfection, but when a crack appears, it’s hard to ignore.

Perfection is rare.

And even harder to maintain.

Yet there are people who insist on creating unnecessary disruptions.

” Kellan’s tone dropped, taking on a cold edge as he spoke.

If Colton and Melany had a little more wit, they would recognize the subtle hint for what it was: a clear insinuation that they were not wanted.

Anyone with any common sense would take the signal to leave.

Melany struggled to remain calm, however, and after a while Colton reluctantly lowered his hand, his face tense with pent-up frustration.

He wasn't used to being treated like this, but he wasn't clueless either.

He knew Kellan had no interest in his company.

“Colton,” Melany whispered from behind, tugging lightly on his sleeve as if afraid he might lunge at her.

Aware of the commercial interests at stake, Colton swallowed his pride, forcing himself to bear the insult.

He smiled thinly.

"You are absolutely right, sir.

Your views on art are truly revealing.

"

His compliment, though stiff, barely concealed his irritation.

Melany, seeing that he was trying hard, resumed her bright, innocent demeanor.

“Mr.

Lloyd, your craftsmanship is something else,” she said, flashing a charming smile.

“I have rarely seen such perfectly formed pottery.

Even looking at the shape, I can tell it is of the highest quality.

I may not know how to make pottery, but I appreciate it very much.

That is why we traveled all the way here to learn from Mr.

Welsh, the master potter.

Meeting you is an unexpected treat.

”

With a delicate gesture, she tucked her hair behind her ear, her voice light and sweet.

“Mr.

Lloyd, would you mind if we sat here and watched for a while?”