Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine

Chapter 27: Kellan cast a suspicious glance at young Allison, his thoughts swirling with doubts.

Emanuel must have been playing tricks on him.

You don't need to lie toif | don't suit you.

I'll be out of your way soon.

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

He caught a flash of hesitation in Kellan's expression, unexpected even for him.

You're already packing your bags.

| figured you'd have more guts than that, wheel boy.

Kellan's gaze drifted to the clay in his hands, its cold, smooth texture making him feel in the moment.

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

In those quiet moments, the face of a girl, serene and smiling, often danced among his thoughts.

She gave him something - he couldn't remember what - but she felt linked to the memories that he couldn't

access.

Coming back to reality, Kellan said, "That's why | need your professor's guidance before | leave.

" Emanuel scoffed, clearly frustrated by Kellan's skepticism.

You think | have tfor games Ask anyone: you'll see | don't bother to lie.

Allison, let him wander around forever, but don't teach him anything! With that, Emanuel turned towards the

kitchen, the fish he had caught hanging loosely in his grip.

But as she prepared the food, she kept sneaking glances at the two of them, motioning for Allison to come

forward and offer sinstruction.

Allison just smiled and offered no explanation.

Your hands are too tense, she said.

She knew Kellan doubted her, but proving herself wasn't the important thing.

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

You have to feel the clay, not order it.

If it is too soft, it will collapse.

If it is too firm, it will crack.

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

Her words, although simple, had a strange weight that relieved the tension in the air.

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

Allison's instructions, although minimal, cat just the right moment and, little by little, Soon, the piece of clay

began to resemble a vase.

He blinked, almost in disbelief.

It's looking good! Allison nodded.

You have the foundation, but now you have to perfect it.

| could sense where his problem lay: his mind, always restless, fought against the patience and tranquility that

ceramics demanded.

However, | did not expect him to learn so quickly with a few tips.

Without After saying a word, Allison picked up a carving tool and, with the elegance of someone who had done it

thousands of times, began to carve into the clay.

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

Her concentration was unwavering, and her usual aloofness seemed to intensify as she worked.

As Kellan watched her, a voice cut through her 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 and his eyes widened 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 riveted 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 didn't confirm it, but she didn't deny it either.

I have never claimed to be.

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 brink of a creative crisis so severe it was almost

eating him, 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 amazed that he practically wanted to call her his teacher on the spot.

Kellan wasted no time.

Do you want to show my niece? Say your price.

And | can offer you a place to stay.

| heard you just finalized your divorce.

I'm fine, thank you.

"I'm not sleeping under a bridge anytsoon," Allison replied, as cold 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 her, unimpressed.

Without realizing its value, he put it in his bag.

Of course, and if | end up ruined and homeless, I'll look for you.

Emanuel, who was still immersed in his world, suddenly shouted: Enough of the chatter! Get to work on that fish

tank | haven't finished! And the next tyou come, | will serve you fish in it.

Oh no, wait - the fish! She ran into the kitchen, panic showing on her face.

Allison laughed softly at her frantic exit and, without wasting a second, pulled out a sketch.

He picked up a block of clay and was already measuring its firmness with his fingers.

Kellan instinctively moved away, positioning himself where he could watch every movement.

His hands worked the clay with ease, forming it into a bowl shape in no time.

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

Suddenly, Kellan broke the silence.

You still have that perffrom two years ago.