Unwilling Bride: The 1V5 Love Drama novel Chapter 35

Chapter 35 A Second Encounter

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If it weren’t for the inappropriate setting, Jane would have burst out laughing. She tried to suppress the smile tugging at her lips. “What’s wrong?”

Ava looked flabbergasted, probably feeling like some sort of meme. No one could’ve imagined such a coincidence!

If she weren’t certain that they had truly never met before, and that they didn’t know her either, Ava would have thought it was some kind of prank.

“Fancy seeing you again, Ms. Morren.”

Jane looked at him, then at Ava, her face full of disbelief. “Have you guys met before?”

When did that happen? Why didn’t she know about it? She had only been away from the Morren Residence for a few days. What had she missed?

“We crossed paths once, but I didn’t know him at the time. I assume Mr. Holcomb didn’t know me either,” Ava replied.

Claire, listening to their conversation, laughed too. “What a coincidence. Come on, let’s go inside.”

Lila bounced over, holding her mother’s hand. “Mom, is this pretty lady my brother’s wife?”

Ava looked at the young girl and felt a sharp pang in her heart.

Jane immediately lost her composure, laughing loudly. “Lila, who said so?”

Lila looked proud. “I saw the matching information on Keith’s Holoband. Last night, I heard my parents and him talking. I knew she would come today. I’m right, aren’t I?”

Jane glanced at Ava, holding back her laughter. “Well, I have no idea if she’ll become Keith’s wife either.”

“She will be, Jane!” Lila couldn’t help but insist loudly.

Ava felt awkward and could only look away. She couldn’t argue with a child, after all.

Keith walked beside her. “My sister is still young and innocent. Ms. Morren, please don’t take it

to heart.”

“Lila’s just innocent and playful. I won’t take it personally,” Ava replied.

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Chapter 35 A Second Encounter

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Once they were inside, and after sitting for only about ten minutes, the Holcombs and Morrens found an excuse to leave, leaving only Keith and Ava alone.

Their excuse was rather flimsy, leaving Ava speechless.

She watched Keith as he prepared coffee. He didn’t resemble his parents much, but he inherited his father’s hair color and eyes. He carried an artist’s aura, with a touch of melancholy–more like a painter or a bard than someone working in gene–drug research.

Keith handed her a cup. “Try it.”

Ava took a sip and raised an eyebrow. “Not bad. It’s pretty good.”

He smiled at her. “I’m glad you like it.”

She set the cup down and looked at an oil painting hanging on the wall. It was full of wild imagination; the strokes were still a little rough, but it radiated vibrant life. Even the colors matched beautifully.

This painting is really good,” she complimented.

Keith looked at it too and asked softly, “Do you like it?”

“Yes, I do,” Ava said. “It radiates a strong sense of vitality. Very impressive.”

“Do you like painting?”

“I dabble a little,” Ava replied. “Not professionally, just a few strokes as a hobby.”

She had never studied oil painting. In her past life, she had worked with gouache for a few years before giving it up, keeping it only as a pastime.

His eyes brightened. “Do you want to see some of the others?”

“Wouldn’t that be too much trouble?” In truth, Ava wanted to distract herself a little. After all, they weren’t very familiar with each other, and there wasn’t much common ground for conversation.

Looking at paintings was definitely better than sitting in awkward silence.

“No trouble at all. I’ll be your guide.”

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Chapter 35 A Second Encounter

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Ava followed Keith from the first floor all the way up to the third, stopping in front of the last room on the top floor. Keith held the door handle, his eyes full of anticipation. “Do you want to go in and take a look?”

“Sure.”

The door opened. Inside, a room of over a thousand square feet was filled with all kinds of paintings–landscapes, starry skies, portraits, animals, plants, and pastoral scenes…

In the center stood an unfinished painting. The yellowed paper bore the marks of time, and n one knew why its creator had left it incomplete.

Ava lingered in front of each painting. It was easy to see that over time, their technique had increasingly refined, but the emotional tone gradually shifted–it went from bright, sunny cheerfulness to a sense of struggle and pain.

Ava had always been highly empathetic, in her past life and in this one.

She didn’t speak, but her mood shifted with the paintings. Finally, she stopped in front of the unfinished piece.

She reached out and touched the faint outlines of the portrait–the final stroke left incomplete. “Why isn’t this painting finished? Was there some sort of struggle, and the final choice was to give up?”