No More Waiting, She Chooses Love novel Chapter 593

I spent a few seconds lost in thought before grabbing a book from the bookshelf and sprawling out on the couch to read, completely immersed until our housekeeper, called me down for dinner.

"You look even prettier in person than in the paintings, Miss Felicia," The housekeeper remarked just as I was about to dig into dinner, catching me off guard.

"Paintings? What paintings?" I asked, puzzled.

The housekeeper chuckled, "The ones Mr. Wagner painted, all of them are of you. They're up in the studio on the second floor."

I had been out on the balcony earlier and passed by the second floor, but I hadn't ventured into any of the rooms, unaware of any studio.

What struck me most was that Dustin painted – this was news to me. We lived together before he went abroad, grew up together, yet he never once mentioned taking up painting. Could he have learned in these past four years?

And all the paintings were of me?

Seeing the housekeeper bustling about the kitchen, I wondered if she was mistaken. After all, she's from a different country and might not differentiate faces as we do, much like how I view Westerners.

Even though I was skeptical, curiosity won out. After a few bites, I found myself heading upstairs.

Not knowing which room was the studio, I began checking each one.

Dustin's bedroom, the study, the gym, and even the walk-in closet, until I reached a door that was locked, secured with a keypad.

This had to be the studio.

Curiosity, especially when it involves oneself, can be overwhelming. The housekeeper's words had ignited an urge in me to see for myself, but without the passcode, I was stuck. After mulling over it for a few seconds, I tried Dustin's birthday. Incorrect.

These weren't just paintings; they were snapshots of my life, capturing every emotion.

As I perused each painting, forgotten moments flooded back to me.

The last painting was of me at the Wagner Group press conference. Despite Dustin's absence, he had kept track of my life closely, capturing it all on canvas.

My heart grew heavy with the weight of these paintings. My gaze shifted from the wall to a canvas covered with a cloth in the corner.

Every painting in this room was about me, so this hidden one must be too.

Driven by curiosity, I pulled off the cloth, revealing an unfinished painting. Only, this time, I wasn't alone.