Chapter 179: a thousand deaths

Chapter 179: Chapter 179: a thousand deaths

The Polo Club session finally came to an end.

Damian removed his gloves as he stepped away from the field, his bag hanging from one shoulder.

The late afternoon sun had begun to soften, casting long shadows across the grounds.

His conversation with Anthony still lingered faintly in his mind.

Everything was fine.

Anthony was fine.

Vivienne was free.

And somehow, knowing that hadn’t made anything simpler.

If anything, it had made everything considerably more complicated.

Damian headed toward the path leading away from the polo grounds.

He wasn’t thinking about much in particular.

Until—

He saw her.

Vivienne. ℯ

She was walking along the path beside the equestrian grounds, her bag hanging from one shoulder.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, catching against her hair.

Damian slowed.

His heart gave a sudden, ridiculous beat.

There she was.

He had only seen her on Sunday.

Five days.

That wasn’t long.

Yet somehow, after everything that had happened inside his head since then...

She looked different.

More beautiful.

Or perhaps he was simply looking at her differently now.

The dream flashed through his mind.

Damian... I like you.

Then his own voice.

I like you too.

And what followed.

Damian immediately looked away.

His ears warmed.

For heaven’s sake.

What was wrong with him?

It had been a dream.

A ridiculous, completely inappropriate dream.

Several variations of the same dream, apparently, because his subconscious had decided to torment him every night since Sunday.

And in every version, he had somehow been completely shameless around her.

He had kissed her.

Held her.

Wanted her.

As though he had no sense of propriety whatsoever.

He had never even—

Damian stopped that thought immediately.

Enough.

He was an adult man.

Dreams were dreams.

That was all.

So why was his heart beating like this?

He had spoken to Vivienne countless times before.

Teased her.

Walked with her.

Had lunch with her.

There had never been anything strange about it.

Now he couldn’t even figure out what to do with his hands.

He could simply keep walking.

That would be sensible.

Then—

"Damian?"

He stopped.

Vivienne had noticed him.

Her eyes widened slightly in recognition.

Then her expression brightened.

"Hey."

She raised a hand and smiled.

Damian turned fully toward her.

"Vivienne."

For Vivienne, seeing him again after several days was completely ordinary.

And yet—

She couldn’t help that little moment of surprise.

Good heavens.

He was unfairly handsome.

She’d always thought so.

It was almost irritating how naturally handsome Damian Blackwood was.

Tall.

Composed.

Dark hair that never seemed to fall quite out of place, even after a polo session.

And that face.

Really.

Plus he is very attentive.

And kind.

And nice.

And has a good sense of humour too.

Really, a complete package.

It was no wonder that in the novel, Evelyn Sinclair, had almost fallen for him.

Evelyn Sinclair really was lucky.

She had Anthony Ashford on one side and Damian Blackwood on the other.

Two of the most sought-after young men at St. Albion.

And both of them were completely devoted to her in the original story.

Oh well, not that it concerns her.

Meanwhile, Damian only saw how she walked to him so naturally.

Completely at ease.

As though she hadn’t spent the last several nights appearing in his dreams.

As though nothing had changed.

For her, nothing had.

"It’s been a while," she said.

"Since Sunday."

He could only nod.

"We’ve had different schedules."

"That’s what I thought."

Vivienne glanced toward the polo grounds behind him.

"So..."

Her eyes brightened with curiosity.

"Are you playing in the Sports Festival?"

"Yes."

"Polo?"

"Yes."

"Are you playing for the Polo Club, or for the society you’re with?"

"The Polo Club this year."

"Oh."

Vivienne nodded.

"Oh. So you played for your society last year?"

"I did. The Strategic Management Society."

"Then why the change?"

"Coach Langley wants the strongest players from the Polo Club to represent the club this year."

Vivienne nodded.

"I see."

Her gaze shifted toward the path ahead.

"So, where are you heading now?"

"Nowhere in particular."

A small smile appeared on Vivienne’s face.

"Are you hungry?"

Damian blinked.

"What?"

"Lunch."

She gave him an amused look.

"Do you want to grab lunch together?"

For some reason, the simple invitation caught him completely off guard.

They had eaten together before.

More than once.

There was nothing unusual about it.

And yet, now that he had acknowledged what he felt for her, even something as ordinary as having lunch together suddenly seemed different.

He forced himself to answer normally.

"Sure."

Vivienne smiled.

"Good."

She fell into step beside him.

For her, it was perfectly natural.

Damian, meanwhile, was painfully aware of every step they took together.

She glanced at him.

He looked unusually quiet.

"Are you tired?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She smiled.

"You look like you’re thinking very hard."

Damian almost laughed.

If only you knew.

"I’m fine."

"Okay."

She accepted the answer without another question.

That somehow made things worse.

They continued walking.

They had done this countless times before.

Yet now Damian was suddenly aware of the faint scent of her perfume, the occasional brush of her sleeve against his arm, and how easily she matched her pace to his.

He stared straight ahead.

Get a grip.

She was Vivienne.

His friend.

His cousin’s now former fiancée.

Someone he’d known for years.

Nothing had actually changed between them.

Except him.

His mind searched desperately for something else to talk about.

Her classes.

No.

The Foundation.

Too much like work.

The Sports Festival.

Already discussed.

Silence stretched for another few steps.

Then his mind offered him the one subject he’d been trying not to think about all week.

Christopher Archibald.

Damian’s jaw tightened.

Absolutely not.

He wasn’t going to ask.

He’d already spent enough time wondering about that man.

Another few steps.

Vivienne looked perfectly relaxed beside him.

His curiosity won.

"I haven’t had the chance to ask..."

She looked at him.

Damian immediately regretted opening his mouth.

Still, he’d already started.

"How’s it been going between you and Archibald?"

Vivienne stopped.

Damian stopped too.

For a moment, she simply looked at him.

Then a faint blush spread across her cheeks.

Her eyes softened.

And she smiled.

It wasn’t her usual polite smile.

It wasn’t playful either.

It was warm.

Bright.

Almost glowing.

Damian stared.

Oh.

No.

That look.

He knew that look.

He’d seen something similar when she used to speak about Anthony when they were younger.

But this was different.

There was no obligation in it.

No uncertainty.

Just genuine happiness.

Damian felt something inside his chest collapse.

A thousand tiny deaths.

One after another.

He had actually asked.

Why did I ask?

He could have remained ignorant.

Ignorance had been considerably more comfortable.

Vivienne tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Well..."

She smiled.

"It’s going pretty well."

Damian’s soul nearly left his body.

Going pretty well.

Of course it was.

Of course.

Christopher Archibald.

The man who had somehow appeared at the end of every one of Damian’s dreams since Sunday.

The man Damian had spent the entire week watching.

The man who had exchanged numbers with her right in front of him.

And apparently...

The man who was now making her smile like that.

I really am a masochist.

"That’s..."

He forced his voice to remain steady.

"...good."

Vivienne nodded happily.

"Yeah."

Damian looked away.

Wonderful.

He had spent the entire week trying to convince himself that Christopher’s presence in his dreams meant nothing.

Now he had asked the question he’d been avoiding.

And somehow...

Knowing was worse.