The Consequence Of Us

Chapter 2

Coffee and Dinner Date

I’m reviewing the lesson I planned for today on my laptop when a familiar, confident figure walks into the café. I’m at Starbucks, waiting for him, and my heart starts to pound as our eyes lock.

I awkwardly raise my hand. He smiles and walks toward me. I put my hand down, holding it nervously as I stare at his eyes. He’s wearing formal business attire, though his suit jacket hangs over his arm, and he carries a briefcase in the other hand.

“Hi, Stella,” he greets warmly, dimples flashing.

“Hello, Winston?” I say, hesitant.

He laughs and offers his hand. “I’m sorry for my manners—I realized I haven’t introduced myself properly. I’m Winston Hale.”

I accept his hand and shake it gently. “I’m Stella Clark.”

“I see—your name sounds as pretty as you are,” he says, still smiling. I look away and stand to hand him the small paper bag with his umbrella inside.

“Thank you for lending me this. What will you have? My treat,” I say, motioning toward the cashier.

“I’ll just have a hot café latte, please,” he tells the cashier.

“And a hot matcha latte for me, please,” I add, pulling out my card. But Winston quickly hands over his card instead. I look at him in disbelief, and he just smiles, returning to our table.

“Why did you do that? I thought you wanted me to treat you,” I ask, confused.

He shrugs. “I don’t let women treat me. If you really want to thank me, you can go out with me later for dinner.” He smiles, calm and confident.

I pause. I never asked for his umbrella or any help—why is he making this a big deal? Is Vivian right? Is this his way of making the first move? I shake my thoughts as the barista calls my name. Winston stands first to grab the drinks.

“Thank you,” I say, still feeling awkward.

“Stella,” he calls after sipping his coffee. I don’t answer, just wait. “Do you want to eat sand?”

My brows furrow in confusion. “What?” I ask, laughing at the absurdity.

“It’s actually a psychology trick—to confuse someone and make them laugh at the same time. I didn’t expect it to work, though.”

I shrug. “Do you say that to all the women you meet?” I joke.

“No, you’re actually the first person,” he admits.

For the next few minutes, we sit and talk. Surprisingly, I start to feel comfortable with his presence. But my heart still races whenever I catch him staring at me. I learn that he’s a corporate manager and sometimes a car racer. I tell him I’m a preschool teacher, a bookworm, and that I occasionally watch Korean dramas in my free time.

“Now I understand where your innocent, modest aura comes from—it’s because you’re a teacher,” he says, admiration in his eyes. My cheeks burn under his deep gaze.

“Well, I really like working with innocent souls, and it’s been my dream to be a preschool teacher,” I say proudly.

He leans back, nodding, still staring at me. “Your profession suits you well, Stella… or should I call you Ma’am Stella instead?” He laughs, and I can’t help but smile. “I thought you were already pretty; I didn’t know you could be even prettier when you smile,” he adds, making me blush.

I glance at my watch. “I’m sorry, but I have to go, Winston,” I say, gathering my things. He stands as if to help, but I gesture that I’m fine.

“Are we going to have dinner later? Please say yes, Stella,” he pleads, eyes locked on mine. How can I say no? I’ve always been a people-pleaser.

I take a deep breath and nod. “Just text the exact location.”

“I will. See you later, Ma’am Stella,” he says, opening the door for me.

“Just Stella,” I mutter as I walk toward my car. Inside, I fix the rearview mirror and notice I’m still smiling. I glance back at him standing by the café door—strong composure, warm smile—and my heart races again.

I can’t understand why he’s interested in someone like me—simple, modest, maybe boring. I’m sure he’s usually surrounded by attractive secretaries and corporate colleagues. Why me?

I decide on a black fitted top, white bell-bottom pants, and let my shoulder-length hair flow naturally. I enter the fancy restaurant he texted me. He stands as he sees me, wearing a white polo shirt and black pants—almost matching my outfit.

He guides me to my chair before settling into his. “Thanks,” I say.

“If you don’t mind, I already ordered our food,” he says.

I nod. “It’s fine.”

“You look amazing, Stella,” he adds.

I awkwardly smile, trying to hide my nervousness. “Thanks.”

After our meal, he invites me to the garden in the restaurant’s backyard—a hidden paradise, full of flowers still beautiful under the moonlight. He clears his throat, looks me in the eyes, and speaks sincerely.

“Stella, I want to be honest with you,” he says, carefully reaching for my hand. Electricity shoots through me as our hands touch. “I like you.”

I’m stunned. I try to pull my hand back, but he gently tightens his grip.

“How can you like someone you just met?” I ask.

“I’ve been noticing you from afar for a month. But the moment I offered you an umbrella, that was the first time I had the courage to talk to you,” he explains, sincerity in his eyes.

“How come I never noticed you?” I whisper.

“Because you don’t pay attention to your surroundings, Stella. Your mind is always busy—you barely notice a man silently admiring you,” he says, kissing my hand.

“I don’t know what to say, Winston,” I admit. I’m attracted to him, but I’m unsure if it’s enough to start dating.

“You don’t need to answer right now, Stella. Allow me to date you for at least a month. If after that you feel nothing, I’ll walk away,” he says earnestly.

I remember Vivian’s words: I’m 25 and haven’t dated anyone. Maybe giving this a shot won’t hurt. He seems sincere, composed, and determined.

“I need time to think about it—it’ll be my first time dating,” I say, pulling my hand back.

He looks slightly stunned. “You’ve never had a boyfriend?”

I nod. “Never. That’s why I need time.”

“Take all the time you need, Stella. There’s no rush,” he says calmly but firmly.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

I know I’ll need plenty of time to think about this.