Bound by love: Marrying my Disabled Husband by Devocean

Chapter 375:

Elyse lingered in the dreamy soundscape long after the final notes of her violin faded. Blinking, she slowly reconnected with the room, then lifted her chin and met Irving’s gaze. “Don’t call me average,” she declared.

Irving, caught off guard by the fiery retort from her, chuckled beneath his breath. Lowering his head, he plucked the violin from her grasp. With a casual tilt of his head, he coaxed the first note from the instrument, sending a shiver down Elyse’s spine. Irving was playing “Winter,” a piece notorious for its intricate tricks. Each note painted a scene. Elyse stood frozen in a desolate landscape, the biting wind and icy snow threatening to consume her. Irving’s fingers danced across the strings, a relentless storm brewing in his music. The final note hung in the air before Irving opened his eyes, his gaze lingering on the mesmerized Elyse. Perhaps unfazed by her reaction, he tossed the violin back to her and sauntered away, muttering under his breath, “Just average. Utterly average.”

Elyse’s brow furrowed in confusion. Gavin, sensing her turmoil, offered a placating pat on the shoulder. “Don’t take it personally. That’s just Irving. Sharp tongue, maybe not the warmest soul, but an undeniable violin prodigy.”

Elyse frowned again. Was Gavin implying Irving was a one-trick pony? Just good at the violin and nothing else. Speaking of late, a voice interrupted their exchange. A lady with a gentle smile, dressed in jeans and a sweater, breezed into the room, her long hair trailing behind her. As she approached, a soft fragrance tickled Elyse’s nose.

“I’m Fiona Evans. Apologies for my tardiness. Here’s the bread I brought for everyone. I got held up while making it.” She produced a steaming loaf from her bag and handed it to Gavin, sticking out her tongue playfully. “For the love of bread, Gavin, don’t tell Mr. Tucker I’m late, alright?”

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Gavin feigned helplessness, reaching out to touch the warm bread. “Alright, alright. Sealed with the sacred pact of bread. Your secret’s safe with me.”

confused, patted Fiona’s head and asked, “What time is considered

past nine,”

eyes widened. “Then aren’t

shot up, covering her mouth. “Let’s just grab a bite before Mr. Tucker arrives,”

bread, even the ever-solitary Irving joined them. Fiona, curious, took a bite of the bread and asked, “I heard you were once the concertmaster of

a talented composer like you? Sounds like

street is there’s a power struggle within that orchestra. Your incident suggests

reached out to comfort Elyse. “Don’t

leaving, now

in, “a world away from the rigid constraints of an orchestra.” Elyse’s

the door. “What’s keeping

looked helplessly at the others. Gavin shot Irving a warning glare. “Watch your words, Irving. Don’t scare her.

holding the hand