Chapter 198: Saturday IX

Chapter 198: Chapter 198: Saturday IX

The driver stopped outside a small country restaurant a little farther down the road.

It wasn’t the same inn they’d visited before.

This one was simpler—warm, quiet, and clearly popular with people from the surrounding villages.

Damian stepped out first and opened Vivienne’s door.

His hand settled automatically against the upper edge of the frame.

Vivienne stepped out beneath it.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

They walked inside together.

The hostess greeted them and led them toward a table near the windows.

It was a simple wooden table with a cushioned bench running along one side and two chairs opposite it.

Vivienne reached the table first.

She naturally took the bench.

Damian stopped beside her.

"Move over a little."

Vivienne looked up.

"Hm?"

"Just a little."

She frowned but shifted along the bench.

Damian sat down beside her.

Very close.

Vivienne stared at him.

Then looked across the table.

There were two perfectly comfortable chairs sitting opposite them.

Then she looked back at Damian.

"Why are you sitting here?"

He picked up the menu.

"The light is better from this side."

Vivienne glanced toward the windows.

The sunlight was, in fact, coming from their side.

She looked at the opposite chairs again.

Then back at him.

"...Okay."

She decided she wasn’t going to question Damian’s strange behavior anymore.

At least not today.

The menus were placed in front of them.

Damian glanced toward hers.

"What do you want?"

"I’m not sure."

"You’ve already complained about being hungry."

"I know."

"Then choose something."

Vivienne skimmed the menu.

"You decide."

Damian looked at her.

"Me?"

"Yes, just pick whichever you think is good."

He smiled faintly.

"All right."

He began looking through the menu.

Vivienne nodded approvingly.

Then, almost immediately, reached into her bag.

Damian noticed.

His eyes followed her hand.

Her phone appeared.

Of course.

Vivienne glanced at the time.

It had been more than an hour since she’d last checked.

She unlocked the screen.

There was a new message.

Her expression brightened immediately.

Christopher: All right. I look forward to hearing more later. I also have to get back to the field.

A smile spread across her face.

He’d replied.

Of course he had.

She quickly typed:

Vivienne: We just arrived at a restaurant on the way to East Junction. We’re having lunch first. How about you? Are you done playing? Are you having lunch too?

She sent it.

Then waited.

--

(Christopher POV)

The final chukka had just ended.

The morning heat had settled heavily over the polo grounds.

Christopher wiped his face with a towel and took a long drink of water.

One of his friends, Marcus Laurent, approached. (Marcus Laurent is a fourth year who shares his and Damian’s same major. His family is a luxury goods conglomerate)

"Solid game. That turn on the nearside in the fifth was sharp

Christopher nodded.

"You covered the line well."

Marcus unfastened his riding gloves. "The usual place fills up quickly by noon. Best to refresh before the crowd gets there."

Christopher nodded. He was about to pack up when his phone vibrated and its screen lit up.

He glanced toward it.

A message.

He picked it up.

Vivienne.

He smiled before opening it.

Vivienne: We just arrived at a restaurant on the way to East Junction. We’re having lunch first. How about you? Are you done playing? Are you having lunch too?

He remained standing where he was.

He typed:

Christopher: We’re done. We’re going to have lunch too.

He sent it.

Then added:

Christopher: Enjoy your lunch.

He slipped his phone into his hand again.

Marcus’s voice cut across the lawn from near the showers. "Christopher, coming?"

Before he could answer, the phone in his palm vibrated once more.

Another message.

"I’ll be right behind you," he called back smoothly.

Then, rather than walking over, he sat down on the bench, slid his thumb across the display, and began to read.

--

Vivienne"s phone vibrated.

She immediately looked down.

Christopher: We’re done. We’re going to have lunch too.

Her smile widened.

Then another message appeared.

Christopher: Enjoy your lunch.

She read it twice.

Then typed:

Vivienne: Where did you play? At the university?

The reply came shortly after.

Christopher: Yes. We reserved the university field for the morning.

Vivienne smiled.

Of course.

She typed again.

Vivienne: Oh, I see. Where are you having lunch?

A pause.

Then:

Christopher: We’re going somewhere outside campus.

Vivienne looked at the message.

Outside campus?

She hesitated for barely a second before typing again.

Vivienne: Really? Which restaurant?

She paused.

Then added:

Vivienne: Do you have any recommendations? I’ve never really tried eating somewhere outside the university.

She frowned at the screen.

Technically, that wasn’t entirely true.

But that wasn’t important.

She simply wanted to know what Christopher considered good.

Especially if he knew somewhere nearby.

She sent it.

Then waited.

Beside her, Damian stared at the menu.

He hadn’t actually read a single word.

She was sitting beside him.

Close enough that he could see her expression.

Close enough to know exactly when Christopher’s messages appeared.

Damian’s jaw tightened slightly.

What exactly were they talking about now?

A reply appeared.

Christopher: There’s a place near campus I like. It’s nothing fancy, but the food is good.

Vivienne smiled.

Vivienne: What’s it called?

Damian looked away.

Then back again.

She was smiling at the phone.

Again.

He shifted slightly closer.

Vivienne didn’t notice.

His shoulder was now almost touching hers.

Still nothing.

She was too focused on the screen.

Another message appeared.

Christopher: I’ll send you the name later. I have to go change first.

Vivienne’s fingers stopped.

She stared at the screen.

For a moment, she simply looked at the message.

I have to go change first.

Her cheeks warmed.

Of course.

He had just finished playing polo.

He needed to change.

There was nothing strange about it.

Nothing romantic.

And yet her imagination betrayed her anyway.

She immediately pictured him stepping away from the polo field, helmet removed, hair slightly disheveled from the wind—

She stopped herself.

Vivienne.

She pressed her lips together.

Why was she imagining that?

It was ridiculous.

She looked at the message again.

Then, despite herself, smiled.

Damian watched her.

His irritation sharpened.

What was she thinking about?

--