Married My Ex's Alpha Uncle (Silver and Elliot) novel Chapter 67

Silver’s POV

“You were the anonymous buyer?!” I blurted, staring at Elliot in disbelief.

“Yes,” He answered.

“Wow, that’s such a kind gesture!” Merida announced and the audience erupted into cheers, making me blush at the sentiment.

Elliot continued and said, “The painting has extraordinary commemorative significance for us, and I wanted to remember it for a lifetime.” He paused for a moment and then glanced at me and said, “It reminds me of what happened the day she painted—”

“Okay, that’s enough!” I blurted, my face red with mortification. “We aren’t going to discuss that in front of everybody,” I scolded, narrowing my eyes at him.

Elliot gave me a boyish grin which made my heart flip in my chest. Merida just laughed and some members of the audience chuckled, understanding exactly where Elliot was going with that.

I folded my arms across my chest and forced a smile, hoping the redness in my cheeks would soon go away.

“No need to be embarrassed,” Merida.

I continued to stare at Elliot, not even realizing that Merida had ended the broadcast.

“Great job, you guys. It was such an honor to meet you, Silver,” Merida said, shaking my hand. I was still so stunned that it was Elliot who bought my painting.

“Where are you keeping it? I don’t remember seeing it at home,” I asked him, my brows furrowed in confusion. I was pretending he didn’t just embarrass me in front of a live broadcast.

“My office,” he replied. “At the packhouse.”

I supposed I had never really gone into his office before so that made a lot of sense. But I was still in disbelief that he actually bought my painting. He just shrugged casually and took hold of my hand. We walked together off the stage and into the backroom. As soon as we were away from everyone else, I could feel the tension between us returning.

Elliot started to walk toward the dressing room, not even bothering to look at me. I folded my arms across my chest and pouted, fully aware that I was acting like a brat, but I didn’t care. I needed my husband to talk to me and not act coldly towards me.

I followed him to the dressing room and before he had the chance of shutting the door behind him, I stopped it with my foot. When he didn’t hear the door click in place, he turned and frowned at me.

“Can I help you with something?” He asked, his voice sounding a bit strained. I knew he was trying to maintain his cold demeanor like he did earlier, but there was something else in his voice, it was pain.

“Yes, we need to talk,” I told him.

He looked at me for a short while before sighing and stepping aside for me to enter his room. I shut the door behind me, glad to see nobody else was in this dressing room. I turned to look at him. As soon as our eyes met, I completely forgot what I wanted. My entire brain went completely blank.

His expression seemed to have softened some and he sighed as he leaned against the vanity on the far side of the room.

“Abou the other night…”

“We don’t need to talk about it,” he said, cutting me off. “Just forget about it.”