Chapter 192 A Familiar Moment
Matthew managed to control his burgeoning emotions and asked, "Would you like to go out for dinner together?"
Quentin responded with a nod. "Sure."
Walking side by side, they exited the hotel and strolled down the street. Although they didn't speak, the air between them was surprisingly harmonious. The silence wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. Quentin found herself wishing this street would stretch out indefinitely, with no end in sight.
When they reached a restaurant, Matthew stopped in his tracks. "Soup?" he inquired.
Quentin's eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly. "Yes," she said. A part of her wondered if Matthew remembered how much she loved soup.
The glimmer of a soup kitchen on the corner nudged Matthew down memory lane to a cheerful time when he once grabbed lunch with a girl. This warm recollection made him halt in his tracks and extend an impromptu invitation to the lady at his side. She welcomed the idea with a bright smile.
They stepped inside the bustling joint, where a good number of folks were already diving into their bowls of food. Finding an empty booth towards the rear, the two of them settled in comfortably. The staff warmly welcomed them as they made themselves comfortable.
The owner, brimming with enthusiasm, sidled up for a bit of chitchat. "Are you lovebirds celebrating your honeymoon?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye. "Lunaria's one of the sweetest spots around Europe for romance," she declared. Turning to Matthew, she advised, "Don't miss out on touring Quentin around. The area's buzzing with life, and you've gotta check out the basilicas while you're at it."
Recalling what had hit the spot before, they ordered their soups without missing a beat.
Once the owner scooted off, Matthew's gaze settled on Quentin. She blushed under the weight of his stare, her cheeks flushing a deep shade as she self-consciously grazed her face. "What's up? Do I have something on my face?"
Matthew shook his head. "No," he paused, then continued, "It seems we really are husband and wife."
Quentin looked at him blankly, her expression one of confusion as if she hadn't grasped the underlying meaning behind Matthew's words. Setting down his glass, Matthew elaborated to Quentin, "Even strangers think we're married. We may as well be because studies show that people who spend a lot of time together start to resemble each other. They develop similar eating habits, live in the same neighborhood, and share emotional tendencies. That's what they mean by 'married couple's look.'"
After hearing this, Quentin finally spoke up, "So, you believe what I've said is true, right?"
Matthew looked across at the hopeful expression in the petite woman's eyes and eventually nodded.
Quentin, struggling to contain her excitement, continued to probe him, "So, are you... willing to come back to Horizon City with me?"
Matthew looked at her with eyes brimming with expectation but hesitated to reply right away. "Let's eat first," he suggested.
Feeling a little deflated, Quentin bowed her head in acceptance. "Okay, we'll eat first."
The soup tasted remarkably similar to the kind they had back in Horizon City, except the serving sizes were smaller, and the prices were a tad steeper. This made sense, though, considering that many of the soup's components had to be flown in from their hometown, hiking up the expenses. This explained the heftier tab.
They devoured the soup with relish, their bodies warming up to the point where they shed their jackets.
In truth, Matthew barely touched his food; his attention was consumed by watching Quentin savor her meal. It reminded him of the enjoyable times they had shared back in Horizon City.
After their meal, they returned to the hotel together. In the tight confines of the elevator, they were close enough to sense each other's breathing. Matthew pressed the button for the 23rd floor before turning to ask, "Which floor are you staying on?"
Quentin smiled slightly and said, "22." She extended her hand to press the button. Their fingers brushed briefly, sending a spark of recognition through them.
She pulled back her hand, "Thanks, I'm in 2203," she told Matthew, her gaze meeting his.
"You're just above me, in 2303," he answered.
Quentin let out a light laugh, "What a coincidence."
Feeling a bit hesitant, she said her goodbyes, "I guess I'll head up. Take care."
Matthew nodded. As the elevator doors drew them apart, one stepping inside, the other staying out, Quentin watched the lighted numbers ascend to 23 before she turned to make her way back to her room, her moves tinged with a touch of reluctance.
Approaching her door, Quentin glimpsed Dorian lounging against the wall nearby. He was in an effortless stance and sporting a casual suit. Standing there, he looked like he could belong to the glossy pages of a high-end magazine, even in the enchanting city of Lunaria. He was immersed in his phone, thumb flicking through a stream of bite-sized videos.
Quentin raised an eyebrow as she neared, "What brings you here?"
Startled, Dorian nearly dropped his phone onto the carpet.
"You need to make more noise when you walk! You nearly gave me a heart attack," Dorian said, placing his hand on his chest for emphasis.
"If you weren't so glued to your screen, you'd have heard me. Plus, carpets are pretty soft and quiet," Quentin replied, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Quentin used his card to unlock the door, and Dorian sauntered in right behind her, assuming his welcome.
"Why are you tailing me so much?" Quentin asked, puzzled by Dorian's persistence and his eagerness to offer assistance at every turn, especially given their brief acquaintance. Quentin's problems, specifically those concerning Matthew, had nothing to do with Dorian.
"Just looking out for you, buddy. It's been a while since you've been around, and seeing as you're the new guy, I thought maybe something happened to you," Dorian explained earnestly.
Quentin felt the need to set things straight. He had no ties to Matthew's predicament. "Look, whatever is happening with Matthew, it's not my fault. You don't have to stick around. You can go back to what you were doing. Victor's handling everything just fine here."
"I didn't stay because of Matthew."
"Then why are you still here?" Quentin was perplexed. If it wasn't a sense of responsibility, what on earth compelled Dorian to linger in Lunaria?
"Because of you, okay?" Dorian exclaimed, his agitation evident in his tone.
A hush descended on the room so profound that one could've heard a pin drop.
Quentin was the one to shatter the silence, his voice faltering, "I'm married, with two kids." His message was unmistakable – he couldn't return Dorian's affections.
Dorian swore under his breath, "Damn it."
Quentin's brow furrowed, and a shade of annoyance crossed his face.
Dorian rushed forward, waving his hands in a panic, "Hey, no, I didn't swear at you. I was swearing at myself."
Quentin's confusion deepened with every passing second as he gazed at Dorian, his befuddled expression etched across his face. He silently pleaded for some sort of clarification.
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