Chapter 5
1070 Words
I’m finalizing my lesson plan for tomorrow when my phone buzzes. Winston’s name lights up the screen, and without meaning to, I smile as my fingers touch the butterfly necklace resting against my collarbone. It’s been a few weeks since he gave it to me, yet every time I wear it, I feel like a part of him follows me everywhere.
“Hey, lovely. I’m on my way to pick you up.”
“Okay,” I say, already blushing. “I’ll be out soon.”
“I miss you already.”
The warmth in his voice makes my cheeks burn hotter.
“I… miss you too.”
“See you in a bit.”
I close my laptop and gather my things. The classroom is quiet — my students left half an hour ago — and I head toward the parking lot, locking the advisory room behind me.
“Ma’am Stella!”
I turn and see Liam jogging toward me, a little out of breath.
“Yes?” I ask politely.
“Can I ask a favor?” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Can I borrow your lesson plan from last week? Your activities are way more fun than mine. I swear I won’t copy it — I just need inspiration.” he added with a faint, and awkward laugh.
I just laugh with him as well to lessen his awkwardness, “Of course. I’ll email it to you later.”
Before Liam can respond, an arm slides around my waist. Winston.
His presence is immediate — sharp, solid, claiming.
“Good to go?” he asks, voice clipped.
I nod and smile, trying to ease the sudden tension. He looks impossibly good in his corporate attire, just like the day we met.
“Well, I’ll head out then,” Liam says, suddenly awkward. “Thanks again, Ma’am Stella. I’ll wait for your email. Take care!” He even gives Winston a polite salute, though Winston doesn’t acknowledge him.
Winston guides me toward his car, fingers interlocked with mine.
“What favor was he talking about?” he asks right away.
“Just the lesson plan. He wanted ideas.”
“I saw you two laughing earlier,” Winston says as we stop beside the car. He doesn’t open the door yet. Instead, he turns to face me fully. “I thought you weren’t close?”
“Oh—no, we’re not close. He just said something funny. It was all just work-related,” I answer lightly, not understanding why he seems bothered.
He exhales, brushing a few strands of hair behind my ear.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I just felt… jealous. Seeing you laugh with another man hurt a little. I want to be the one who makes you smile, Stella.”
His vulnerability softens me. I lift my hand to his cheek, and he stills, as if he wasn’t expecting the gesture.
“You don’t have to be jealous,” I say quietly. “You’re the only one I like. You’re the first man I’ve ever dated.”
His expression warms. “I’m lucky to have you,” he says, kissing my forehead. “Thank you for letting me in your life.”
---
We grab a quick dinner before going to the café where Vivian works. I’ve been wanting Winston to meet her, and she’s been excited to meet him.
“Stell!” Vivian beams as she spots me. She looks adorable in her barista apron.
“Viv, this is Winston,” I say. “Winston, this is Vivian—the friend I told you about.”
They shake hands politely.
Vivian whistles. “Wow. Handsome and well-composed. No wonder Stella fell head over heels!”
Winston gives a small smile, but there’s stiffness in it.
“What else did she say about me?” Vivian teases. “Did she tell you I used to force her into dating?”
“Viv…” I cut in gently. “You’re busy. We’ll just order and sit.”
“Oh! Right. What do you guys want? Drinks on the house!”
We give our orders and take a seat in the corner.
“How long have you known her?” Winston asks as we settle in.
“Since college.”
He hums. “Then why is she a barista?”
I blink at the question. “She couldn’t finish her last year. She went through severe depression that led her to alcohol addiction.” My voice softens. “She’s doing better now.”
“Ah,” he says quietly. “That explains the feeling I got.”
“…What feeling?” I ask.
He intertwines his fingers with mine.
“It just felt strange that you’re close with someone like her. Someone who pushed you into dating when you weren’t ready… A real friend wouldn’t do that. You’re innocent, Stella. Precious. You deserve people who protect you, not influence you badly.”
My heart stings, but not from his words — from the sincerity in them.
“You don’t have to worry,” I tell him. “Vivian and I have been friends for years. I decide things for myself.”
Vivian brings our drinks — matcha latte for me, the usual americano for Winston — along with a small plate of butter tarts.
“Thanks, Viv,” I say.
“Take care of her, Winston,” she adds playfully.
“I will surely do that, she deserves the world. ” he replies, voice polite but tone unreadable.
When she leaves, I offer him a tart.
“This one’s my favorite.”
He takes a bite.
“Well then… I’ll add this to my list.”
“What list?” I laugh.
He looks down for a second, then back at me with a small, almost shy smile.
“I keep a note on my phone. A list of your favorites — food, drinks, colors, songs.”
He squeezes my hand gently.
“I want to know everything about you. Better than anyone else ever will.”
My breath catches.
It feels sweet. Thoughtful. Overwhelming.
But beneath the warmth curling in my chest, something else stirs — a quiet flutter of unease I don’t know how to name.
I push it away.
No one has ever cared about me like this. And I want so badly to believe it’s only love.
- Writer
