My Husband's Affair My Anniversary Gift (Lily and David) novel Chapter 290

John spotted them first. He waved and walked over, a tablet tucked under his arm.

“Riyana, you’re here already?” he smiled, then noticed Lily. “Ms. Collins"

“Just Lily, Mr. Brown ,” she corrected lightly.

"Sorry for that, Lily " they laughed together.

and turned back to Riyana.

“The actor will be here in ten minutes.

Riyana nodded.

Lily squeezed her arm. “I’ll go check on the costume side. We’ll talk later.”

Riyana nodded. “Sure.”

As Lily walked away, Riyana took a deep breath and followed John further inside. The set opened up in front of her. A fake street, half-built houses, props scattered around. It was loud, messy, alive.

John led her down a quiet hallway and stopped in front of a small room near the set. He opened the door and gestured for her to go in.

“You can wait here for a bit,” he said in a calm, casual tone. “The actor will be free soon.”

Riyana nodded and stepped inside.

Before leaving, John paused at the door and added, almost as an afterthought, “If you get bored, you can do some painting. Everything you need is here.”

She looked up at him, slightly surprised. “Oh… okay.”

John gave her a quick smile and then left, gently closing the door behind him.

The room suddenly felt very quiet.

Riyana stood there for a moment, not moving. Her eyes slowly traveled around the space. One side of the room was filled with painting supplies. Canvases leaned against the wall. Brushes of different sizes were neatly arranged. Tubes of paint were lined up, some already opened, some still new. The familiar smell of paint and canvas filled the air.

Her heart tightened. In past few days she had been practicing herself but still she feels nervous.

It had been a long time since she had been this close to her world. The world she once loved. The world she had walked away from.

She didn’t know what to do.

After a long moment, she slowly walked to the chair near the easel and sat down. Her movements were careful, almost uncertain, as if she were afraid the moment might break if she moved too fast.

She reached out and picked up a brush.

The weight of it felt familiar in her hand. Too familiar. Her fingers tightened slightly around it.

She stared at the blank canvas in front of her.

“I’ll just sit,” she told herself silently.

“Nothing more.”

But the brush remained in her hand, and her eyes didn’t move away from the canvas.

Riyana didn’t even notice the hours slipping by. Her hand moved steadily across the canvas, brush gliding over the surface as if it had a mind of its own. Her mind had gone quiet, lost in the rhythm, in the colors, in the shapes forming beneath her fingers. She didn’t hear the soft creak of the door, didn’t notice the shadow that slipped into the room.

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