CHAPTER 5: A Couple of Dates

GEORGE

She was nervous.

I saw it in the way she kept shifting her weight, in the way her fingers curled into the hem of her sweater like she was holding herself together and in the way she constantly avoided eye contact with me.

She didn't seem like she was ready to trust me but she hadn't sent me away either; so, I guess I'll take my chances.

I stepped back, giving her space. "I was going to take you somewhere fancy, but you look like you need something low-key."

She arched a brow. "So, what? You're taking me to a five-star restaurant in my sweater?"

I smirked. "No. I was thinking something simpler. A drive. A walk. No pressure.

She hesitated, her guard flickering. "Just us?"

"Just us."

Cassie exhaled, looking away for a moment before finally nodding.

"Okay."

I shouldn't have felt relief.

But I did.

I took her to the docks, where the city lights reflected over the water in a way that made everything feel softer. Less sharp. I had my reason for bringing her here, not like she hadn't been here before. The sound of water is so calming and beautiful, able to soften the atmosphere at the right time.

Cassie leaned against the railing, arms folded, watching the waves roll beneath us.

"So," she said, "is this where you take all your dates?"

I chuckled. "Do I look like the kind of guy who has time for a dating life?"

She glanced at me with unreadable expression. "I don't know. You tell me."

I didn't reply her immediately. I hadn't done this in a long time, not the dating part. The being so close to the sun, I think I am falling in love… Still can't place the feeling

"Cassie." My voice came out softer than I had intended.

She tensed slightly. "Hmm?"

I hesitated. Then—

"Why are you so withdrawn?"

Her breath hitched. Nearly unnoticeable.

But I caught it.

She looked away, putting her attention on the water like it held the answer. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I know you know exactly what I'm talking about." I said as I tucked her hair behind her ear so as to focus on me. And there it was, her glowing green eyes looking so anxious and shy but insanely pretty.

Her jaw tightened. "I just don't think this is a good idea."

I took a step closer. Just enough for her to feel my presence. "Why not?"

She exhaled sharply as she fiddled with the hem of her sweater. "Because you make me feel things I don't want to feel."

The words were barely above a whisper.

Something tightened in my chest.

But I didn't push.

Instead, I simply said, "Then let your heart feel them anyway."

Her eyes flicked to mine, startled. 

And for the first time, she didn't look away.

CASSIE

I should have stepped back.

I should have laughed it off, thrown up my usual walls, turned this into a joke.

But I didn't.

Because standing there, with George's eyes locked onto mine, I felt seen in a way that terrified me.

And for once, I didn't want to run.

"I don't think I know how to," I admitted, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

George didn't blink nor move. He just watched me like he could hear everything I wasn't saying. 

He took my hands drawing me closer. "Then let me show you."

I swallowed hard. "That sounds dangerous."

A slow smile curved his lips. "Life's more fun that way."

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "You're impossible."

He grinned. "So… I've been told."

I should have told him to stop. I should have reminded him that I don't do this.

But instead, I let myself stand there, close enough to feel him, close enough to know that if I let this happen, there was no going back. 

And I didn't pull away.

Not this time. I felt heard, seen.

GEORGE

She wasn't ready. At least not yet.

She was still frozen, stuck to the ground and for Cassie, that wasn't something she does. She's always active, ready to fly, jump.

I could have kissed her, leaned in and erased whatever space was left between us.

But she wasn't just another woman or some hooker I met. Moreover, I left that kind of life behind, long ago.

She was HER.

So instead, I shifted backward slightly, giving her just enough space to breathe. "I'll take you home."

She blinked, her face wore a flushed surprised look, like she had expected me to push a little more… Like she had expected me to savor this moment.

Instead, I turned toward the car. "Come on, Cas. Before you change your mind."

She let out a breath that sounded almost like relief.

Then, slowly, she followed her legs still moving like they were still stiff.

And for the first time, she let me drive her home without her usual opposing response to whatever I did.

The ride back was quiet, not uncomfortable. Just… different.

Cassie stared out the window intensely, her fingers tapping lightly against her thigh, completely lost in thought"

I didn't break the silence, I just let it sit. Some things weren't meant to be rushed, and I, for one respected that a lot.

When we finally pulled up in front of her apartment, she hesitated. "You didn't have to do this."

I turned off the engine. "Do what?"

"Be patient."

I studied her for a moment. "With you?"

She nodded.

"Sooner or later, you'll get bored and tired of this… I just know it" I blurted out.

A small, almost amused smile tugged at my lips. "Cassie, if there's one thing you should know about me by now…"

She tilted her head slightly. "What?"

"I don't do anything I don't want to do."

Something shifted in her expression, her eyes gleamed with a sparkle in her eyes, more like a glimmer of hope.

I reached for the door handle. "Go inside, Cassie."

She swallowed. "Goodnight, George."

I didn't move as she stepped in neither did, I drive away until I saw the light come on through her window.

Then, and only then, did I let myself breathe. I never even realized I had been holding.

CASSIE

The next morning, I woke up feeling… different. I didn't feel much whole, but quite lighter.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like I wasn't carrying everything alone.

That should have scared me or maybe it still did. I got up to get myself ready for my shift. I wasn't late this time because I had a good night, a good sleep. So, I definitely had time to walk. I had this ritual where I walked to wherever I wanted to go because I've always felt I wasn't in enough shape so I had to do exercise a lot… but I also had no time to go to the gym

'Nah, it was because I was lazy.' I chuckled to myself.

_________

I stepped into the café for my shift. The air was mixed with the aroma of baked bread, croissants and all sorts of baked materials and the nauseating smell of coffee I had to endure daily.

But I realized something else, a yearning… I wanted to see him again.

And that was the scariest part of all.

-------

I was halfway through my shift when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.

I wiped my hands on my apron then pulled out my phone, expecting a text from my old roommate Liv, I missed her; or a spam notification.

Instead, it was George.

>> Busy? <<

I stared at the message, my stomach flipping and my heart doing a backflip. I wasn't busy at all. Well, technically I was, but not in a way that mattered, not for him.

Somehow, I still hesitated before typing a reply.

>> At work. Why? <<

His response came almost instantly.

>> Meet me after? >>

I bit my lip.

I could say no.

I probably should say no.

Instead, I found myself typing,

>> Where? <<

He didn't send a reply back, I was curious but oh well, I had to work.

All I thought about during my shift was about meeting up with George. And by the time my shift ended, I felt it was a completely stupid idea but I had managed to convince myself otherwise.

As I closed the café doors and turned the open sign closed, I saw George leaning against his car, with a stunning smile. He opened the door for me to get in. A gentle man too.

I ensured myself as I slipped into the passenger seat of his sleek black car. 'Meeting George wasn't a bad idea.' 

"Hi," I said, trying not to sound breathless.

George's eyes flicked over me, taking in my simple jeans and sweater. His lips curled slightly, like he was fighting a smirk.

"Hi."

I buckled my seatbelt. "So, where are we going?"

He pulled onto the road, his fingers drumming casually against the steering wheel. "You'll see."

I narrowed my eyes. "You're not kidnapping me, are you?"

His lips twitched with a smile. "Not today."

He said reassuringly. "Maybe someday."

He chuckled just immediately, and just like that, the tension eased.

I wasn't sure how he did that, how he made me feel safe when despite the fact that everything in me was wired to run.

But tonight, I wasn't running. At least not yet.

He parked his car in front of a large building I had always wanted to go to as a child, an art gallery.

I blinked up at the massive glass windows in awe, where soft golden light spilled onto the pavement, everything about the building was art… I squealed inwardly.

"Seriously?" I glanced at him hiding my excitement. "You brought me to an art gallery?"

George slid his hands into his pockets casually, wearing an unbothered expression. "You don't like art?"

"I—" I hesitated. "It's not that. I just didn't expect this."

He smiled slightly. "You expected something extravagant, didn't you?"

I folded my arms. "Are you saying this isn't extravagant?"

He shrugged. "It's quiet. Thought you'd love that."

I shifted my weight to my other leg while simultaneously tucking my hair behind my ears.

He was right, he knew more about me than I did about myself. And that was the problem, it's scaring.

GEORGE

I watched every little bit of expression on her face as well as her reaction. She loved it, somehow, she was in awe with being at this art gallery.

But it's Cassie, she was desperately trying not to like this.

I could see it in the way she bit the inside of her cheek, in the way her fingers curled into her sleeve like she was physically stopping herself from being completely open and free.

She was so used to fighting for everything that she didn't know what to do when someone didn't ask her to, when something was offered to her on a platter of gold. All she had to do was accept and take it.

So, I didn't push.

I let her wander through the gallery at her own pace while carefully trailing beside her, taking pauses beside abstract paintings and delicate sculptures.

At some point, she turned to me and said, "I don't get it."

I raised an eyebrow feeling completely puzzled, my heart raced as I thought she wanted to question why I was always around her. "What?"

She gestured to a large canvas covered in chaotic brushstrokes. "This. It looks like something a toddler made with finger paint. Plus, no particular thought into it"

I chuckled. "That's because it's open to interpretation."

Cassie made a face funny facial expression. "That's just what people say when they don't want to admit they don't understand it."

"Maybe." I studied the painting for a moment. "Or maybe it's about feeling something rather than understanding it."

She went quiet, looked at the painting for a moment.

Then, softly but with less attention paid to the painting, she said, "That sounds exhausting."

It seemed like she was impatient with the painting, not wanting to take her time to understand or decipher it.

I looked at her intensely.

Because for the first time, I realized she wasn't just talking about the art.

She was talking about life. I had thought the painting was just like her, chaotic, at first glance, had to decipher, understand but with close interrogation and patience... you start to see the beauty.

We left the gallery an hour later, stepping into the cool night air.

Cassie tucked her hands into her pockets, exhaling. "Okay. I'll admit it. That wasn't terrible."

I smirked. "High praise."

She shot me a look. "Don't get used to it."

But she was smiling.

And that? That felt like a win.