Chapter 450

Vivian Lockhart's leg had healed remarkably well over the past week. The doctors finally removed her cast, declaring her fit to leave the hospital.

Nathaniel Blackwood, Sophia Osborne, and William Carter arrived to take her home.

"Today's a special day," Sophia chirped, clapping her hands. "Our queen is finally free from that awful cast! We should celebrate properly."

Nathaniel, ever the perfectionist, had even brought a wheelchair—just in case.

"Absolutely," William agreed, grinning. "I've reserved a private dining room at The Gourmet Society. And there's a surprise waiting for you, Vivian."

Sophia winked, her excitement barely contained.

The moment they arrived at the restaurant, Vivian's eyes widened at the lavish spread. Her stomach growled—hospital food had been torture.

"Slow down," Nathaniel murmured, cutting her steak into precise pieces. His movements were careful, deliberate, as if she might shatter at any moment.

Vivian groaned. "Nathaniel, I hurt my leg, not my hands. I can feed myself."

She had spent weeks eating bland meals under strict supervision. Now, with a feast before her, she wasn't about to let anyone stop her.

"I'd rather choke than starve," she declared, shoving a large bite into her mouth—only to immediately regret it as she started coughing violently.

Nathaniel sighed, handing her a glass of water. "Told you."

Sophia fake-gagged. "Ugh, you two are disgustingly sweet. Nathaniel, since when did you turn into such a doting boyfriend?"

William chuckled. "I always thought older women had to baby their younger partners. But you? You’ve rewritten the rulebook."

Sophia blushed, playfully swatting his arm. "Stop it! You're embarrassing me."

Vivian, finally catching her breath, smirked. "Oh please. You two are way worse. Sophia, I never knew you could be this clingy."

Sophia rolled her eyes. "That's what love does to you. Unlike you and my brother—you act more like business partners than fiancés."

The comment stung.

Vivian knew their relationship wasn’t built on passion. But she had hoped, with time, affection would grow.

"Maybe you should take notes," Sophia teased. "Flirt a little. Be more... spontaneous."

Vivian hesitated.

How could she explain that she didn’t even know where to start?

"Ren," Sophia pressed, "if you keep this up, when will you two ever really connect?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered.