Chapter 630 My Violin Plays Only For You (Part Two)

Brian did not respond except for raising his hand a bit and then taking a sip of his wine. The look in his eyes deepened as he looked again outside the window as the night wore on.

Lisa went to the kitchen and put the box of milk on the marble countertop. She was about to ask Brian if he had dinner or not, but before she could even say anything she felt the indifference emanating from Brian a few feet away, and internally swallowed her question instead. A few minutes passed and Brian seemed to be a little calmer, but she eventually hesitated anyway. The question died on her lips as she knew he wouldn't answer her at all, so as soon as she unboxed the milk and put it in the fridge she left the house and headed home without a word.

Lisa finally arrived at her own home and proceeded to their bedroom. She gently pushed the door open to see her husband there and went inside. "I really can't stand the strange vibes between them anymore. They act almost like strangers! What should I do to help them?" Lisa complained with a deep sigh. She outstretched her legs to relax and cracked her knuckles, feeling the satisfying pop from her tired fingers.

Her husband glanced at her from the nightstand and then continued to take care of his plants. "Just leave them alone. Do you think that you can take control over Mr. Brian Long's matters?"

"I know I can't, but I just can't stand seeing them like this," Lisa said with a hint of exhaustion in her voice as she slowly sat on the edge of the bed. "It's like no one ever sees them at their own house together.

They avoid each other almost like enemies! And it's been quite a while too…"

Lucy was just about to go to the kitchen to grab a drink, but she stopped in her tracks when she reached her parents' bedroom down the hall. Her mother's complaints could be heard through the wood of door, and her father replied shortly with disinterest.

A hint of coldness flashed through Lucy's eyes. With quiet steps to avoid being caught eavesdropping, she turned around and returned to her room instead. In her arms was a newly-finished painting of her father planting flowers in the garden.

When she reached her room she carefully set aside the painting on her desk and sat on the bed. She took out her phone and was about to dial a number, but her fingers paused on the screen in hesitation. She eventually sent out a message instead.

*

The red velvet cake remained untouched. "Mol," Spark called out her name

“Do you still want to run away after what happened last night?”

Their relationship changes overnight. She tries to keep her distance from him, while he comes closer and closer.

Spoiling her, he gives her everything she desires. His only wish is to keep her around. The whole world is envious of what she has.

“Never rush in a relationship,” she says calmly.

Raising his head to look at him, Jeff smiled as he got up from his seat, "I've got to go now. Things will go on as you've planned."

"Jeff?" Reuben called.

"Old man," Jeff stopped in his tracks, his back facing Reuben, "Now that things have come to this, there's no turning back for us now."

*

All the patrons in the cake shop paused whatever they were doing to look at Spark when they saw him stand up to play the violin. The music playing from the speakers was turned off, and the whole shop was enveloped in silence. Everyone stared at Spark with eager eyes. Some of them even held out their phone's cameras.

Spark slightly raised his head and cleared everyone else's presence from his mind, focusing his amber eyes solely at Molly who was sitting in front of him. He slowly raised his hand and rested the bow over the tightly wound strings. With eyes closed, he then pressed his fingers on the violin's fret board and pulled the bow.

The rich, melodious sound of the violin flowed forth from his fingers and it was made even more vibrant by his strong emotions. Playing here in the cake shop with Molly in front of him was a stark difference from making music in concert or opera halls, but the familiar melody of the song The Summer Breeze evoked the same distinct feelings from its player.

A lump formed in Molly's throat, and tears threatened to fall from her eyes as she watched Spark play. Pieces of memories flashed through her mind as the music soothed her ears: their short conversation in that park where Spark composed The Summer Breeze for her; the wonderful time they spent together in the Burano Island in Venice...