Novel & Cerita My Wife's Lovers Painting

He looked at it for a while and then joked, "Anna, that's a very special painting." Anna was stunned. She expected him to ask about the day, but his attention was focused on the painting. "Why do you think so?"She asked. "Under the night sky, he placed four pairs of invisible faces and lovers in each other's arms on the roadside for people to admire, looking like lovers in love." Anna blinked and looked at Ethan with a puzzled face. She knew his words meant something else. But she didn't understand. Ethan smiled and said, "Actually, this painting is the same as other paintings, but this one also depicts the periodicity of the characters. Don't you think the lovers are more like the ghosts of

When the door finally opened again and the world came rushing back in applause, congratulations, a thousand eyes Lena turned to face them, calm and radiant. Behind her, on the wall, Still Life with Secrets and the new portrait stood side by side the beginning and the end of a story painted in the same hand. And though the crowd would never know it, every color on that final canvas was their secret the proof that love, like art, is never truly finished. END

"I want one of my wife's paintings to be showcased at the upcoming Moonlight Salon." My wife. For just a second, my breath caught in my throat. He still remembers that I love painting? That passion he once dismissed as a "pointless hobby," the one I buried deep in my heart—he remembers? A faint, almost laughable flicker of warmth stirred in my chest for half a second. "She's always loved painting," Brian's voice continued, carrying an uncharacteristic trace of gentleness. "Her work is incredibly talented." But the next moment, that flicker was extinguished completely, doused by a bucket of ice-cold water.

she told him, rubbing his hands while he tried to think of it. "Oh God Linda, keeping me in suspense, I'm getting married to you soon you know, be nice to your husband to be, okay, " he told her with a small voice and chuckled while she punched his shoulder. "You remember the art in your corridor, the one I saw the day you forcefully kidnapped a woman and claimed to love her. It had a man kneeling and holding a flower which was dripping of blood as he offered it sadly to the woman who was painted wearing a completely black dress and had a smile on her face" she described the painting to him, while he chuckled looking at her.

I realised there was a big collection of the album here and started moving them to the left side. A few pictures of Layla and Maayan came up. I could tell they were so much in love from the paintings. These were memories of the couple and their emotions were clearly portrayed here. After a few slides, I noticed the paintings getting intimate about their embrace, kisses and stargazing cuddles. I was bewildered when I saw the nude canvas of them and the next few were them making love.

She glanced around at the angry beastmen and said, "Everything started because of Jasper. You can go ahead and punish him as you wish. But my husband is the mighty Kael Vaxenroth of the Dragon clan! You'd better think twice before you lay a finger on me!" At that, the beastmen who had been eyeing her menacingly suddenly turned to look at me. I didn't even spare Priscilla a glance. I said coldly, "I don't have feelings for her anymore. Do whatever you wish to her." Priscilla retorted loudly, "You love me! You love me so much that you spent forever looking for treasures for me and even nearly died a few times too! How could you just say that you don't have feelings for me anymore?

"Maybe she just can't bear to part with her husband's wealth and assets. It's just that the mistress has already given him a child, while Dr. Hudson hasn't… I guess she's going to have to step aside now." "Did you see the baby's features? It really looked a lot like Dr. Hudson's husband. No wonder he loves his mistress so much…" I stopped walking. Looking through the glass windows, I could see Robert cradling the newborn baby in his arms while sitting next to Bianca's bed in the ward, laughing and chatting casually with her. They looked so wonderfully harmonious together that they looked more like they were an actual family of three. A sharp, piercing pain shot through my chest, and suddenly

I give relationship advice online, helping the lovesick and heartbroken work through their problems. One night a young man called into my livestream. A wealthy woman had been keeping him for seven years. Now he wanted to go home and get married, but she'd threatened to kill herself if he left. I gave him the standard advice. "You want out? Go to her husband. Tell him the truth. Give everything back." Three days later a property deed arrived, along with dozens of luxury-car keys and more than a hundred designer bags. Then my phone lit up with a transfer notification. Eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The note read: "Thanks for the advice. Returning everything to its rightful own

It didn't matter whether we were in love or not, which husband could digest the verity that his wife, in fact had a promised lover, after knowing about it on the day of his wedding. Now I wanted to find this so-called painter by any means necessary and see with my own eyes what this bastard looked like. So, I asked her in a cloying tone to fish out any details I could, "Who is the painter of this book? I want to employ him." Fake Lizzy, "......." To be Continued........

She brought out the binoculars she carried to spy on Adrian and his supposed lover and focused it on him. Adrian looked like a page out of an erotic novel. He was shirtless and the muscles of his back glistened with sweat, his hair was slipped back and she could see his hand rapidly flick over the canvas. She couldn’t even see his face, but she could see the passion in his body movement. He clearly loved what he was doing, he clearly loved painting. It was clear that she did not know a lot about the man that she married. The man that she was falling in love with might as well be a stranger. The realization made cold wash over her. He never told her that he could paint; he never even hinted t