Love Under the Umbrella

Ellen Walton had been single for 25 years until her mother handed her a book titled How to Find Love.

She wrote a post and set it only visible to family, "Single woman of marriageable age, seeking romance, the kind that leads to a wedding."

Pressured by constant marriage nagging, Ellen never imagined that borrowing an umbrella would lead to a boyfriend.

Was this part of his plan all along?

1

The sky was just beginning to lighten, the air heavy with sticky humidity.

Ellen jogged to the subway station, sweat beading on her skin.

She plopped onto a subway seat, panting, and pulled a book from her bag, fanning herself haphazardly until her breathing steadied.

Calm at last, Ellen glanced at the book in her hand. Her blood rushed to her face, her cheeks burning red even through three layers of a thick mask.

The book's cover screamed in bold letters, How to Find Love.

She stuffed it back into her bag, then casually glanced around.

Nobody saw that, right?

Her mother must have slipped it into her bag during her last visit home, Ellen thought, grinding her teeth. Her mother's words echoed in her mind, "A woman over 25 will struggle to find a partner."

A shiver ran through her.

It was her mother's birthday today. Though Ellen had already gone home to celebrate, she wanted to make her mother smile on the actual day.

She opened her social media, typed, "Single woman of marriageable age, seeking romance, the kind that leads to a wedding," set it to family-only, and posted.

Setting her phone down, Ellen's gaze drifted to the iPad of the person beside her, covered in intricate diagrams.

Her eyes wandered from the iPad, up the arm, past the crisp white shirt and sharp jawline, to the man's striking features.

The subway lights cast shadows in his deep-set eyes, his gaze fixed on the iPad through glasses, brows slightly furrowed, unwavering.

Through the sliver of his glasses, his eyes looked surprisingly soft.

Ellen couldn't help stealing a second, third, and fourth glance during the ride.

When she got off the subway and stepped onto the escalator, she realized it was raining outside.

June weather was as unpredictable. It had been hot and muggy before, but now a downpour soaked the city.

Raindrops hit the metal handrail of the nearby stairs, splashing in all directions.

The reflected light from the water dazzled Ellen's eyes.

She hadn't brought an umbrella.

During rush hour, the escalator grew crowded. Ellen glanced back. The escalator, meant for standing on the right and walking on the left, was packed with commuters. The left side was impassable, and even she stood on the walking side, unable to move down.

As the escalator neared the open air, where the rain awaited, people around her opened their umbrellas. The person beside her, also without one, muttered something in frustration.

Ellen felt helpless. The rain was heavy enough to guarantee a cold if she got wet.

Between health and pride, she chose health.

From the perspective of those behind her, a ponytail-wearing pretty woman stepped down one escalator step, slipping under the umbrella of the handsome man to her right. The man instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

The rain pounded the umbrella above, as if taunting Ellen, "Come out, I swear you won't catch a cold."

The man's hand lingered on her shoulder.

Ellen shifted awkwardly, glancing up. It was the guy from the seat next to her.

He looked decent, but what if he was a creep trying to take advantage?

Sensing her discomfort, Rylan Winchester loosened his grip, switching the umbrella to his left hand. He spoke softly over her head, "I was worried you'd fall."

His voice, though quiet, cut through the sound of rain hitting the umbrella, reaching Ellen's ears.

Embarrassed by her suspicious thoughts, Ellen straightened up, keeping a slight distance. "Thanks."

Rylan didn't respond.

At street level, Ellen remembered something. "Hey, which way are you headed?"

She hoped they were going the same way. She wasn't bold enough to borrow another stranger's umbrella that morning.

"West."

"What a coincidence, me too."

Rylan gave a soft "mm." Ellen took it as permission to share his umbrella.

Two strangers under one umbrella walked in silence, the situation slightly awkward.

At her office building, Ellen broke the quiet. "I'm here. Thanks for the umbrella."

Rylan, a head taller than Ellen, had a soaked right shoulder and backpack from shielding her.

A simple thank-you felt inadequate to Ellen. After a moment's thought, she added, "Let me add you on WhatsApp. I'll treat you to dinner sometime."

Rylan looked at her. Ellen's face showed genuine guilt, her eyes clear. When their gazes met, she blinked awkwardly.

He lowered his eyes and pulled out his phone.

Ellen smiled politely, scanned his QR code, entered her name, and sent a friend request.

Seconds later, a notification popped up, Rylan and her were WhatsApp friends now.

"All right, thank you so much. I'm heading up now. See you."

"See you."

Ellen turned and entered the building, unaware that the man in the rain walked back the way he came.

Ellen worked at a social enterprise. The pay wasn't high, but the job was stable, the workload light, and the hours regular, making it a top choice for many parents seeking a daughter-in-law. But alone in the city, with no family and a small social circle, Ellen rarely met new people outside work and had no prospects for a boyfriend.

Annoyed by her parents' nagging, Ellen visited a matchmaking corner at a park. After wandering around, she didn't dare post her printed matchmaking profile.

First, she felt inferior. Even 25-year-olds were dismissed as too old by the older folks there.

Second, she felt it was beneath her, like being a vegetable picked over at a market.

Ellen had been single for years partly because she wasn't outgoing. She disliked initiating conversations and, frankly, was socially anxious.

Even when she met someone who made her heart race, she wouldn't make a move. Her mind might run wild with fantasies, but her face remained impassive.

She stayed in her own little world.

So, despite adding Rylan on social media, Ellen sent no messages. Their chat stayed at the friend verification stage.

She didn't know what to say.

Near the end of the workday, her inner voice started chattering.

"Hi, I'm the one who borrowed your umbrella today."

"Hey, are you free tonight?"

"So... what kind of food do you like?"

After some thought, Ellen realized she didn't know his name or how to address him.

Handsome? Too flirty.

Dear? No, she wasn't customer service.

Her coworker at the next desk noticed her odd behavior and tapped the cubicle glass. "Ellen, what's wrong? You look down."

Ellen tilted her head, "That obvious?"

The girl replied, "Of course!"

"Well, I'm fighting."

"What?"

"I'm fighting with the voice in my head."

Her coworker fell silent.

The rain had long stopped. Through the office window, clear skies stretched endlessly, dotted with cotton-like clouds. A faint red hue lingered in the distance.

Rush hour brought impatient honks from drivers below.

The sound urged cars forward and prodded Ellen to act.

In her mind, Ellen typed, "Hi, I'm the person from this morning. I promised to treat you to dinner. How about tonight?"

Rylan, packing up to meet colleagues for dinner, felt his phone buzz. He glanced at it, paused, and his fingers danced across the screen.

"Sorry, I'm busy tonight. Another time."

Ellen exhaled, packed her things, and headed home.

On the way, she video-chatted with her mother, laughing under the sunset's glow.

Rylan, in a passing car, caught the scene. A spark flickered in his eyes, gone as the car sped past.

2

The next morning, Ellen received orders from her boss to attend a three-day training in Westland.

She returned to Nevoria on Friday afternoon.

Instead of reporting to the office, she took a cab home.

After sorting her clothes and slipping into pajamas, she sprawled on her bed, scrolling through her phone.

Summer had arrived abruptly. Though only June, temperatures hit 95°F. Her social media feed overflowed with complaints about the heat.

Her thumb swiped up, stopping at Rylan's name. He had posted two photos with the caption, "Great work, everyone."

Ellen tapped the images. The first was a group photo, Rylan standing out in the center. The second showed a trophy, looking impressive.

Some things needed to be put into motion.

She opened Rylan's chat. "Hi, are you free tonight?"

Five minutes later, a reply came.

"Yes."

Ellen wrote, "Then I'll treat you to dinner tonight."

Rylan replied, "Sure."

Ellen asked, "What kind of food do you like?"

Rylan replied, "I'm fine with anything. You choose."

Ellen asked, "Is 7, 30 okay?"

Rylan replied, "Yes."

Ellen sent, "I'll send you the location later."

Rylan replied, "Sounds good."

His tone felt so formal.

Ellen made a tsking sound. She didn't know he was replying between meeting breaks.

Ellen chose a newly opened restaurant recommended by colleagues, likely to have good food.

She arrived first, ordered a water, and sat by the window, watching hurried passersby.

A familiar yet unfamiliar figure approached, strolling through the sunset's glow. Under streetlights, his shadow stretched, shortened, then stretched again.

Her heart raced, a surge filling her chest.

Was this what a crush felt like?

"If he doesn't have a girlfriend, should I be brave for once?"

Ellen startled herself with the thought. Just then, the man outside spotted her through the window and gave a faint smile.

Her face grew warm. She gulped her cold water, dousing the fire inside.

Rylan hung his backpack on the chair and sat slowly.

Ellen handed him the menu. "See what you'd like to eat." She avoided his gaze.

Rylan took it, his fingers brushing hers. She yanked her hand back, grabbed her phone, and pretended to check messages. Her calmed heart raced again, like deer stampeding inside.

Rylan noticed her small reaction, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Any foods you avoid?"

His voice was unfairly pleasant.

"I don't eat seafood." Ellen looked up, forcing a smile.

After a moment, she added, "But order what you like. Don't worry about me."

"It's okay." Rylan's voice was soft. He turned to the waiter to order.

After the waiter left, silence settled. Rylan stayed quiet, and Ellen stared at her phone. The liveliness of other tables felt close yet distant.

For someone as socially anxious as Ellen, this quiet was unbearable. She set her phone down and looked at Rylan.

"Thanks again for the umbrella. I'd have been soaked without you."

"No big deal."

"I don't even know your name yet."

"Rylan Winchester."

Rylan Winchester. Even his name sounded nice. She was falling hard.

"Can I call you Rylan?" Ellen blinked, looking at him.

To her surprise, he said, "No."

Ellen froze. Was that a rejection?

A few seconds later, Rylan's lips moved. "Call me what you want."

The waiter arrived with food, ending the slightly awkward exchange.

With food on the table, the mood lightened.

Ellen learned Rylan worked at an architectural design firm, was a local in here, and was 29.

She had thought he'd be a cold, quiet type, but he answered every question she asked.

Of course, she traded her own personal details for his.

She didn't realize this exchange felt a lot like a blind date. Except neither asked about relationship status.

Outside the restaurant, night had fallen, neon lights flickering.

Ellen followed Rylan to the parking lot. He opened the passenger door. "Get in. I'll drive you home."

Though she'd never dated, Ellen knew not to hop into a man's car so easily.

Rylan noticed her hesitation and said with a hint of exasperation, "Don't worry. I don't have a girlfriend right now."

Right now? No girlfriend?

"If he doesn't have a girlfriend, should I be brave for once?" Ellen recalled her earlier thought. Could it really be that easy?

"What are you standing there for? Get in."

"Thanks!" Ellen, blushing, hurried past him, slid into the car, shut the door, and buckled up in one fluid motion.

Inside, the AC cooled her flushed cheeks.

Rylan leaned back in his seat, right hand on the wheel, left resting casually on his leg.

Neon lights refracted across his face, glinting off his glasses.

Faced with Rylan's striking looks, Ellen admitted to herself she was a sucker for a handsome face.

But so what? She was only brave in her mind.