Transmigrated as the Villainess, my University Romance went Off Script
Chapter 136: I’ll meet you in the lobby
Chapter 136: Chapter 136: I’ll meet you in the lobby
The Ashford Foundation was noticeably quieter by the time they returned that afternoon.
Sunlight slanted through the tall windows of the common room as students gradually filtered back from their respective townships, notebooks tucked beneath their arms and conversations carrying easily through the corridor.
Peter looked up first as Damian and Vivienne entered.
"There you are."
Oliver leaned back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh.
"We were beginning to think East Junction had adopted you."
"It nearly did," Vivienne replied with a small laugh.
Jessica smiled.
"So?"
"How was it?"
Damian placed his notebook onto the table.
"Productive."
Vivienne nodded.
"We’ve gathered enough observations."
"I believe East Junction has the economic capacity the Foundation was hoping to confirm."
Sophia looked interested.
"So... they really could become partners?"
"I believe so," Damian answered.
"The township isn’t merely self-sustaining."
Vivienne continued naturally.
"It consistently produces more than it consumes."
"The surplus appears stable rather than seasonal."
Peter gave a low whistle.
"That’s... actually impressive."
Oliver grinned.
"So Ms. Lee’s going to be happy."
"I believe she will," Damian replied.
Jessica closed her notebook with a satisfied smile.
"Looks like everyone’s fieldwork paid off."
For another few minutes they exchanged observations from their respective visits, comparing notes and agreeing to compile everything before the week’s report.
Eventually...
The conversations naturally began to dissolve.
Jessica and Sophia excused themselves for the library.
Oliver stretched before announcing he desperately needed coffee.
Peter laughed before following after him.
One by one...
The common room gradually emptied.
Until only Damian and Vivienne remained.
--
Silence settled comfortably between them as Damian gathered the loose pages of his notebook into a neat stack.
"I’ll organize today’s observations this evening."
Vivienne nodded as she slipped her own notebook into her satchel.
"I’ll do the same."
She reached for her mobile phone.
The familiar click echoed softly as she flipped it open.
Her gaze lingered on the small screen for a few moments without moving.
Damian noticed.
Not the phone itself...
But the look in her eyes.
The quiet warmth that had accompanied her throughout the afternoon had faded, replaced by a calm determination that hadn’t been there before.
It made him wonder.
His first instinct was to ask if something was wrong.
The words almost left his mouth.
Instead...
He remained silent.
He already had a fair idea who she intended to meet.
Anthony.
The thought came naturally enough.
Just as naturally, he chose not to dwell on it.
The faint uneasiness it stirred within him was something he had neither the desire nor the right to examine.
Whatever it was...
U
It belonged to her.
Not to him.
Vivienne’s thumb moved slowly across the keypad.
She paused halfway through.
Deleted a few words.
Typed them again.
Only after reading the message one final time did she press Send.
The reply came scarcely a minute later.
She flipped the phone open once more.
Yes.
I’ll meet you in the lobby.
Vivienne read the message quietly before closing the phone with a soft click.
"Well..."
A faint breath escaped her.
"It seems this is it."
Damian looked at her.
There was something strangely final about the way she said those words.
Even so...
He offered only a small nod.
"...Take care."
She smiled.
"You too."
Together they walked toward the Foundation entrance.
The lobby lay just beyond the glass doors, washed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun.
There, their paths quietly separated.
Damian continued toward the front courtyard.
Vivienne remained behind.
As he descended the front steps, he glanced back almost unconsciously.
She was still standing where he had left her.
Waiting.
He knew who she was probably waiting for.
The realization settled somewhere deep inside him, bringing with it that same unfamiliar discomfort from moments ago.
He looked away before the feeling had a chance to grow.
Then continued toward his dormitory without another glance back.
--
Anthony closed the folder resting on his desk.
It contained the latest revisions to Evelyn Sinclair’s Foundation proposal.
He had intended to review the final section before returning it.
Instead...
He realized he’d read the same page three times without absorbing a single sentence.
A soft vibration interrupted the quiet.
He reached for his mobile phone.
Flipped it open.
Is now a good time?
For a moment...
He simply looked at the message.
Then typed a brief reply.
Yes.
I’ll meet you in the lobby.
The phone clicked shut.
He set it carefully beside the folder.
But instead of returning to Evelyn’s proposal...
He found himself staring at the papers without really seeing them.
A quiet sigh escaped him.
...
Why did I have to say it then?
The question had crossed his mind more than once over the past week.
Not because he had lied.
He hadn’t.
Everything he had told Lady Beaumont had been the truth.
But...
Did he really need to say it?
They had lived with the engagement for years.
Nothing had demanded that conversation.
Nothing...
Except one evening.
One dance.
He frowned almost imperceptibly.
Ever since the Founders’ Ball...
Something about Lady Beaumont had unsettled him.
No.
That wasn’t quite right.
She hadn’t changed.
She was still the same young woman who smiled whenever she saw him.
Who greeted him with quiet sincerity.
Who had followed him around since they were children.
...
So why had he suddenly felt the need to draw the line?
He rubbed lightly at his temple.
The answer wasn’t difficult to find.
He simply didn’t like it.
Whatever fleeting uncertainty had crossed his mind after that dance...
He hadn’t wanted to entertain it.
So he had done what seemed simplest.
He had said the words out loud.
As though speaking them would settle everything.
Instead...
They had only hurt her.
His expression tightened ever so slightly.
That...
He regretted.
Not the honesty.
Never the honesty.
Only that she had been the one to bear the weight of it.
He glanced toward the clock.
It was almost time.
Whatever Lady Beaumont wished to say...
She had every right to say it.
The very least he could do...
Was listen.
He picked up his jacket.
Then quietly made his way toward the place they had agreed to meet.
--
Tbc
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