Chapter 394: Indifference


    Chapter 394: Indifference


    Kelvin felt an indescribable sense of aplishment as he watched her enjoy her meal so heartily.


    A contented smile, reminiscent of an old father, appeared on his face. He casually pulled out a


    tissue and gracefully wiped his hands, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on Cheyenne.


    Unconsciously, a trace of indulgent smile yed on his lips.


    Unable to resist, he reminded her, "Take it slow."


    "Mm-hmm," Cheyenne responded.


    Feeling a bit self-conscious under his intense gaze, Cheyenne turned her body towards the other


    side and hastily stuffed more food into her mouth. Within minutes, she had finished the bowl of


    porridge, but she was still only half full. Licking her rosy lips, her hands cradling the empty bowl, she


    looked at him with her deep, watery eyes, saying nothing.


    Kelvin couldn''t help but let out a soft chuckle. He reached out with arge hand and gently stroked


    her long hair, showing an inexplicable tenderness. Startled, she widened her eyes and hurriedly


    moved away from his touch. With narrowed eyes and a cold tone, she said, "Don''t touch me."


    It seemed that she truly disliked him.


    Kelvin felt an indescribable frustration, and awkwardly withdrew his hand. "Sorry, I only wanted to


    help you fix your hair, as it was a bit messy."


    Her hair was messy?


    Cheyenne waved it off, resembling an elderly man, and thrusted the bowl into his hands, saying,


    "Another one."


    "..."


    This time the porridge came without chopped green onions, allowing Cheyenne to eat cozily. Kelvin,


    however, felt a bit regretful that he couldn''t continue helping her pick out the green onions.


    While eating, Cheyenne brought up the matter and asked Kelvin directly, "Why did you go to


    TWILIGHT?"


    Instead of answering her question directly, Kelvin countered, "What about you? Why did you go to


    TWILIGHT?"


    The dark side of the world had nothing to do with her. Though Cheyenne was willful and exuberant,


    she had never done anything too outrageous. She shouldn''t have any ties with TWILIGHT.


    Cheyenne hesitated for a moment. After satisfying her hunger and thirst, her craving for cigarettes


    emerged. She tapped her fingers rhythmically on the table.


    "Give me a cigarette first," she demanded.


    Kelvin furrowed his brows fiercely. "You, a young girl, why are you smoking?"


    He remembered that she used to not smoke.


    "A young girl?" Cheyenne sneered, stood up, and boldly ced her knees on Kelvin''sp. Looking


    down at him with dominance, a hint of mockery in her tone, she exhaled softly, "I stopped being a


    girl a long time ago. Or have you forgotten, Mr. Foley, that you were the one who turned me from a


    girl into a woman?"


    Kelvin didn''t need to lift his head to see her fair face. The coldness and disdain in her eyes ignited


    an intense desire to conquer within him. Cheyenne''s audacious demeanor somehow made her


    unbearably attractive.


    Just as he was about to reach out and embrace her delicate waist, she swiftly twisted her slim waist


    and skillfully avoided his touch, returning to her seat on the sofa. Between her beautiful fingers was


    a cigarette, which she ced between her luscious lips. With her other hand, she expertly flicked


    the lighter.


    The deep blue me reflected in her dark, shining eyes. With a provocative and self-satisfied smile,


    she raised one leg, crossing it over the other. From Kelvin''s perspective, the high-slit dress


    elongated her leg''s contours, giving off azy and enchanting allure.


    Taking a deep drag of the cigarette, Cheyenne then ced the lighter back on the table and leaned


    slightly forward, revealing her curves.


    "Thank you for the cigarette, Mr. Foley."


    The cigarette was something he had taken out earlier when his arm was aching. But he quickly


    regretted it when he thought of Cheyenne sleeping. He didn''t want her to smell the smoke. So, he


    never lit it and tossed it back into his suit pocket.


    Little did he expect her eyes to be so sharp. Her seductive act earlier had merely been a ploy to


    take the cigarette from his pocket. Why did his heart race in that moment?


    Kelvin coldly watched as the pale blue smoke enveloped her petite face, blurring her features. In


    this moment, Cheyenne felt more distant and unfamiliar than ever before.


    In his mind, she was a somewhat bossy yet adorable girl who liked tough. She was mischievous


    and caused trouble, but when she returned home, she was obedient and well-behaved, sticking to


    him like azy kitten, her chatty mouth always rambling on.


    The only time they had been close, perhaps... was during those three days at TWILIGHT.


    He was beginning to miss those three dark days, where he could shamelessly gaze at her, hold her


    in his arms, and breathe in her scent.


    "When did you start?" he asked casually, as he put away the lighter.


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    Cheyenne leaned her head back against the sofa, her thoughts somewhat scattered. Unsure of


    what she was thinking, her faint voice sounded somewhat weary.


    "I don''t remember anymore. It''s been too long. I think it was when I was fourteen. I was stabbed


    back then, and the wound was unbearable. I heard that smoking could ease the pain, so I learned."


    "At sixteen, I wanted to marry you. I heard that you likeddies like Miss Berry, so I quit."


    "After losing the child, I fell into severe depression for half a year, even contemted suicide," she


    said casually. "But Mr. Lara told me to smoke when I felt sad! So, I started again. Although he''s


    stingy, he only allows me to smoke asionally."


    Her words were light and effortless, but Kelvin''s heart ached as if it had been torn open. He looked


    at Cheyenne, who was blowing smoke, unable to imagine that the once optimistic and cheerful girl


    had suffered from depression.


    During that period, he was busy and didn''te home for about half a year. The thought of going


    back home to face his grandfather''s pressure, coupled with Abbie''s preparations for her dance


    training institution, kept him busy. He neglected Cheyenne.


    He ran his fingers over the metallic lighter, feeling its cold and smooth texture, wanting to ask her


    how she managed to ovee it. But he didn''t have the courage to hear the answer. Was it Omari


    or Benson? In any case, it wasn''t him, Kelvin. It wasn''t him, the husband who should have been by


    her side.


    "Cheyenne, I''m sorry," he finally spoke after a long silence. His voice was hoarse and low, reaching


    Cheyenne''s ears. Those words made her eyes slightly red, filling her heart with a sourness.


    Fortunately, the thin smoke from the cigarette veiled her emotions. Cheyenne gave a lightugh and


    looked into Kelvin''s eyes with a steady gaze. Her mood was surprisingly calm.


    "It doesn''t matter anymore. It''s all in the past," she said. As her words fell, Kelvin suddenly felt a


    deep sense of powerlessness. Being indifferent was more agonizing than being hated. He would


    rather have Cheyenne hate him than let her forget.