The Consequence Of Us

Chapter 1

The Umbrella

I gather my things after all the students have been picked up by their parents. The preschool is quiet now, and for a moment, I just breathe, letting the day’s warmth linger in my chest. It’s been two years since I started working here, and every day, my heart feels full when I teach my little students.

I step outside and sit under the waiting shed, glancing at my wristwatch. My car is under maintenance, so today, the bus is my only option. I take a deep breath—but before I can finish, the sky opens, and rain pours down. I spring to my feet, shielding my bag and lesson plans from the sudden downpour.

I sigh. “Shucks… I didn’t bring my umbrella.”

“Here, take mine.”

I look up. A man stands a few feet away. I hadn’t noticed him before. He’s tall—around six feet—with sharp features and a strong, confident aura. But it’s his smile that makes my stomach flutter: warm, gentle, with dimples that appear whenever he grins. Judging by his crisp suit and polished shoes, he must work at a prestigious company.

“Miss? I said you can take my umbrella,” he repeats, his voice calm but insistent.

“No, no… it’s fine,” I stammer, feeling a strange heat in my cheeks. I don’t know why he’s giving me his umbrella—or why my heart races just looking at him.

He steps closer, sliding the umbrella into my bag. “Please. I insist. I can’t bear to see a pretty girl running in the rain.”

I gulp, trying to form a smile. Why am I this nervous? Interacting with men has never been easy for me. “I… I don’t know how to thank you, but this really means a lot,” I manage.

He nods, still smiling, and I notice something in the way he holds himself—a quiet confidence that makes my pulse skip. “Buy me a coffee,” he says, laughing softly and shrugging. “You said you don’t know how to thank me. Treat me to a coffee, then.” He slides a card into the paper bag with the umbrella.

I stare at it, stunned. He wants me to buy him coffee? Meet him again?

“How can someone look beautiful and cute at the same time?” he adds, noticing my hesitation.

“What?” I manage, confused.

He shrugs casually. “I’ll just wait for your treat.” And before I can respond, he runs off into the rain.

I look down at the bag, heart pounding. The umbrella and business card sit there, waiting.

---

Back at my apartment, I step inside, fumbling with my keys. I drop my bag and head straight for a shower, trying to shake off the fluttering in my chest. Once I’m settled on the recliner with a steaming cup of matcha, my eyes fall on the black umbrella and the business card: Winston Hale.

I can’t help but read the card again. He works for The Premium Group, a well-known corporate company here in Vancouver. My fingers trace the edges of the card, and I can’t decide if I should call him—or throw it across the room.

Just then, my phone rings.

“Hey, Viv,” I answer.

“Hey, I’m on my way to annoy you for a while. Not asking—just letting you know.” She hangs up before I can respond.

A few minutes later, Vivian barges in, carrying a box of butter tarts.

“I brought your favorite,” she says, grinning.

“Having a cafe barista friend is really an advantage,” I say, taking one tart.

“Yeah, you’re lucky to have me! Can you make me a hot matcha too?”

“Why don’t you make one for yourself? Aren’t you a barista?” I mutter, though I start making her one anyway.

She notices the card on the counter and squeals. “What’s this? Who gave you this?”

I shrug, telling her what happened earlier. She jumps up and down, her excitement impossible to ignore.

“I think this is your chance to have a boyfriend, Stell!”

“You’re overreacting, Viv. He was just kind enough to lend me his umbrella—nothing else.” I push the cup of matcha toward her.

“Duh! He likes you, i***t!”

“Likes me? How can you like someone you just met?”

“Well, didn’t you say he’s cute?” She elbows me playfully. I remember his smile, the dimples, and the subtle intensity in his gaze. I nod, trying to play it cool.

“Maybe… it’s just a first impression,” I mutter. But deep down, I can’t ignore the way my heart flutters whenever I think of him.

Vivian squeals again. “Go message him! Buying coffee is his way of making the first move! Come on, Stella, you’re 25 and haven’t dated anyone yet!”

I stare at the card. I take a deep breath. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s time to step out of my safe zone. And somehow, I know Winston Hale is someone I can’t forget.

---

I take a deep breath and type my first message:

Hi, this is Stella Clark, the woman you lent your umbrella to earlier. I was wondering if you could stop by at Starbucks near the preschool tomorrow? I wanted to buy you coffee as a thank you, and give you back the umbrella.

I close my eyes for a moment before clicking send. My heart feels like it might burst—I’ve never messaged a man like this before.