I felt a jolt of curiosity but tried to remain professional as I set their bowls of stew down gently."Enjoy your meal," I said, offering a polite smile before turning away.
Their words echoed in my mind.Hong Kong?British government?What had Christian been involved in?The questions swirled around like leaves caught in a winter windstorm.I knew he was in the SAS, but what did that even mean?
As I continued serving other guests, I couldn't shake the conversation from my thoughts.It seemed everyone had an opinion about Christian—some sympathetic, others suspicious.My own curiosity about him only deepened with each passing moment.
Returning to the kitchen to fetch more bread rolls, Jane gave me a knowing look."Everything all right out there?"
"Just another busy night," I replied, keeping my tone light.
But as I stepped back into the dining area, my mind kept circling back to Christian and what he might be running from.The answers seemed just out of reach, tantalizingly close yet frustratingly elusive.
For now, though, there were guests to serve and an inn to run.
As dinner was wrapping up, I saw Christian enter the dining area.My heart skipped a beat.His hair was damp, and he wore a clean shirt.It looked like he had taken a shower too.
"Take a seat," I called out to him, trying to keep my voice steady."I'll get you some stew."
He nodded and found a table away from the crowd, his usual guarded demeanor in place.As I ladled stew into a bowl, I noticed the couple from earlier had stopped talking.They were staring at him intently.
I walked over and set the bowl in front of Christian."Enjoy," I said, giving him a small smile before turning to address the couple."Did you need something from him?"I asked with forced politeness."You're staring."
The man leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing."You're going to repel customers if you keep him here," he said bluntly."You know that, don't you?"
"I know no such thing," I snapped back, my patience wearing thin."And quite frankly, it's rude for you to make assumptions when you don't know anything about him."
The woman scoffed, her lips curling in disdain."And it's naïve to see the good in strangers."
The man's voice dropped to a harsh whisper."He's killed with his bare hands," he said."Do you know anything about who you've let live here?"
I felt my blood run cold at his words but refused to show it.Instead, I squared my shoulders and met their gazes head-on.
"I trust my own judgment," I replied firmly."And until I have reason not to, Christian is welcome here."
With that, I turned on my heel and walked away, leaving the couple to stew in their own suspicions.Reaching Christian's table, I noticed his eyes were on me, curiosity mingled with something unreadable.
"Dinner's on me tonight," I told him softly.
He gave a slight nod of acknowledgment before returning his focus to the steaming bowl in front of him.
As I moved back through the dining room, attending to other guests, the tension from the earlier confrontation lingered in the air like an unwelcome guest.But I couldn't let it deter me.Christian deserved a chance to find some peace here, just like anyone else.
Dinner continued without further incident, but anger flared inside me, hot and quick.I didn't like it.I didn't understand people sometimes.How could they judge so harshly, without knowing the full story?
For a second, I considered looking up the information myself.Maybe I could find out more about Christian, about his past, about what he was running from.But then I stopped myself.If Christian wanted to share, he would.And if he didn’t… Well, I'd respect that too.
I glanced over at him, sitting there quietly eating his stew.He looked up, and our eyes met for a brief moment before he returned to his meal.There was something in his gaze that spoke of a deep weariness, a kind of silent suffering that made my heart ache.
The couple who had been whispering about him finished their meal quickly and left without another word.Good riddance.The atmosphere in the dining room seemed to lighten once they were gone.
I busied myself with clearing tables and refilling drinks, trying to shake off the lingering tension.
As the evening wound down and the last few guests trickled out, I finally allowed myself to relax a little.The inn was quiet now, save for the crackling of the fire in the hearth and the soft clinking of dishes being washed in the kitchen.
Christian finished his stew and stood up to leave.He walked over to where I was stacking plates.
"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You're welcome," I replied, offering him a small smile.
