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.”

head and asked,

past nine,” Gavin

eyes widened. “Then

her mouth. “Let’s just grab a bite before Mr. Tucker arrives,” he interjected. Elyse, speechless, watched as

to enjoy the 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 the

composer

street is there’s a power struggle within that orchestra. Your incident suggests that the assistant director might

reached out to comfort Elyse.

sad about leaving, now I’m grateful.

Fiona chimed in, “a world away from the rigid constraints

bread, Irving cast a curious glance toward the door. “What’s keeping Mr.

Irving a warning glare. “Watch your words, Irving. Don’t scare her. Mr. Tucker must be

holding the hand of a small boy. The eight-year-old wore a backpack and possessed a delicate face that,