Chapter 51


    Romeo sat down next to Arabe, holding her hand tightly and handing her the menu. “What would


    you like to eat?” Arabe took a gander at the menu, picked a few dishes haphazardly, Romeo padded


    the order with a bunch more. As the manager ducked out of the room, Arabe arched an eyebrow,


    “Mind letting go now?”


    Romeo asked demurely and seriously, “Can we hold it a little longer? Just for a moment… It’s a sight


    for sore eyes during the day too, I’ll bring you here next time, alright?”


    Arabe stayed mum. After a beat, the manager waltzed in with a few chefs, dishes in tow.


    At lunch today, Romeo had taken note of the dishes Arabe didn’t touch, and the ones she seemed to


    fancy, so he had a rough idea of her taste and ordered ordingly.


    “All this grub, you think you can polish it off?” Arabe eyed the spread, a good twenty dishesid out


    before them.


    “Slow and steady.” Romeo’s one hand was still holding hers, the other serving her dishes.


    “Can I have my hand back now?”


    If he didn’t let go, she wouldn’t be able to eat!


    Romeo smoothly let go of her right hand, only to deftly snag her left one.


    Arabe was speechless.


    “Are you sure we’re eating like this?” Arabe was not used to this arrangement.


    “Yup.”


    “Romeo, I think we need to rap.”


    “Let’s finish eating first.” Romeo peeled a shrimp perfectly, picking it up and presenting it to her,


    “Wanna try?”


    “Just leave it here, I’ll eat it myself.”


    Seeing her start to talk, Romeo popped the shrimp right into her mouth.


    Arabe shot him a warning look, but Romeo didn’t get ruffled. He looked back at her with a soft gaze,


    “How is it?”


    “Yuck!”


    The foreign chef nearby nearly had a heart attack, stuttering in broken English, “Which dish didn’t suit


    your pte? Just say the word, I’ll fix it right away.”


    “I was talking about the person, not the food.”


    The foreign chef was a tad confused, unsure what she was on about.


    “You guys can scram.”


    Once Romeo spoke, the chefs and the manager beat a hasty retreat, practically fleeing the scene.


    “Pissed?” Romeo looked at the girl before him tenderly, “I guess I got ahead of myself.”


    “Can you sit across from me?”


    In other words, can you give me some space?


    “I wanna sit with you.”


    Faced with Romeo’s earnest expression, Arabe was at a loss for words.


    Finally, they finished eating, the lights in the restaurant dimmed, the ceiling opened up, revealing the


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    beautiful night sky.


    Back when Attlee and Olga were still trying to get their business off the ground, they barely made it


    home, always hustling. It was Grace who kept herpany through those sleepless nights.


    The countryside back then was just as star–studded as now.


    But the people and events of the past are now but distant memories.


    A violinist took his position in a corner of the room and started ying some romantic tunes.


    As the music faded, the night sky lit up with brilliant fireworks. Arabe looked up at the disy, while


    Romeo kept his gaze fixed on her.