đđHappy New Year To All Cake đ đ
Hank's Bistro on Creekview Avenue was rumored to have been founded by a Frenchman.
Those romantic roots turned the place into a high-end, elegant dining sanctuary.
It was the kind of restaurant where passionate couples could easily take the next step in their relationship-assuming they were willing to part with a few Franklins.
And if anyone ever entertained the idea of dining and dashing, the muscular bouncers at the entrance were more than happy to explain the meaning of a "deep-tissue massage."
At exactly six o'clock, Dia appeared at the door.
A waiter who had been briefed in advance immediately welcomed the stunning blonde inside.
"This way, beautiful lady."
Ryden was already seated near the wall.
The table was dressed with soft red candles, silver cutlery, crisp white linens, and a massive bouquet of red roses.
Pure romance.
Any woman would find it hard not to be moved.
Dia wore a long, elegant dress.
It was simple. Modest.
Yet on her, it carried the quiet dignity of a noblewoman.
The purple neckline revealed porcelain skin, while her slender legs were outlined by minimalist, tasteful heels.
She didn't need elaborate styling.
She was beautiful enough to make anything look good-a natural clotheshorse.
Ryden stood and pulled out her chair with practiced ease.
"You look truly beautiful tonight, Ms. Dia," he said calmly. "I ordered the restaurant's signature set. I know you prefer vegetarian dishes, so I had it adjusted for you."
Dia froze for a moment.
"How did you know my diet?" she asked, surprised. "Thank you. And... you look quite handsome tonight."
"I asked around at the school cafeteria," Ryden replied with an easy smile.
To win a woman, one needed boldness, attentiveness, and thick skin.
Adding a few rogue tactics only helped.
Dia suddenly felt like she was seeing him for the first time.
Bold enough to ask her out.
Careful enough to notice her habits.
And frighteningly intelligent.
He had just finished junior high-and already secured admission to MIT before even starting high school.
"Ryden," she asked softly, unable to hide her curiosity, "can you tell me how you got into MIT?"
When a woman became curious about a man, it was rarely a good sign.
It was often the first step toward falling.
The waiter poured red wine.
Ryden gently swirled his glass, letting the aroma rise.
"I designed a weapon," he said evenly. "An assault rifle. Its range and handling outperform most firearms on the market. More importantly, it's extremely durable."
Dia taught chemistry, not physics.
She didn't fully grasp the mechanics.
But she understood achievement.
And she was genuinely happy for him.
"That's incredible," she said. "Congratulations, Ryden. I believe you'll become an outstanding scientist and inventor someday."
"Of course," he replied. "But that's not actually my goal."
He paused.
"I want a PhD in Mechanical Engineering."
He finished with a light wink.
Intentional.
The air shifted.
Dia understood the implication instantly.
That "PhD" wasn't just an academic goal-it was the white lie she once used to motivate her students.
She had never imagined she'd one day face it like this.
She had never planned to marry a student.
She hadn't even truly fallen in love.
At most, she had been curious.
And a little infatuated.
"Ryden," she said carefully, "I didn't mean it literally when I said I'd only marry a doctor. I just wanted everyone to study hard. You understand, right?"
She was trying to retreat.
Ryden didn't let her.
He reached across the table and took her hand.
Soft.
Warm.
"Dia," he said seriously, "you taught me that integrity matters. That when someone says something, when they make a promise, they should keep it."
"You taught me for three years. From the first day of school, I wanted to see you every day. Maybe it started with your looks-but it didn't stop there. Around you, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time."
"Family."
"When I learned you weren't married, I was so happy I couldn't sleep all night. That was when I decided-I had to marry you."
"That's when I started pushing myself in the lab. Like a madman. I wanted to prove myself. To prove I could give you a good life."
Ryden looked straight at her.
Under the table, his left hand crushed an onion.
The sharp gas surged upward, stinging his eyes.
He released it and clasped her hand with both of his.
His eyes glistened.
"I don't remember how many times I failed. Or how many times things exploded in my face. I didn't care."
"I only had one thought-to succeed. To prove my talent. To prove I was worthy of you."
"To prove I could make you my wife."
Dia's heart shook.
The candlelight.
The quiet restaurant.
The earnest confession.
Her rationality slipped away.
"You... you did all that for me?" she whispered. "You got hurt so many times... Ryden, how could you be so foolish?"
She lifted her hand and gently touched his face.
Young.
Yet firm with resolve.
Her own eyes blurred.
Her chest felt full.
It was itchy. Tight.
And unbearably sweet.
So this was romance.
So this was what it meant to be loved.
It felt wonderful.
Outwardly, Ryden looked devoted.
Inside, he was smug.
Nice guys finished last.
He held her gaze.
Their hands tightened.
Their faces drew closer-
Until their lips met.
When they finally parted, it was slow.
Reluctant.
Dia's face glowed like a ripe ruby, her mature charm mixed with shy, girlish embarrassment.
Ryden nearly drooled.
She really was the crown jewel of the school.
He had struck gold.
"Dia," he said softly, pressing forward while the moment was hot, "I love you. Be my girlfriend. When I get my PhD, you'll marry me."
"Okay," Dia whispered, lowering her head.
She didn't know what had come over her.
It was their first date.
He was her student.
And yet... she had lost herself completely.
Maybe it was because everything he'd done-
Had been for her.
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