People rushed in and out of the hospital. Some of them absorbed in their own chatters brushing against Brandon’s shoulder as he stood close to the entrance. But he didn’t move further away from it, as the old man in front of him was a disease that he needs to avoid.

Dean, who was standing in front of a black van, kept waving at them enthusiastically, beckoning them to come, but Brandon, who was wearing a sour expression, ignored it and turned to the side before walking away from the place.

“Isn’t he someone you know?” Cherry asked as she looked back at the old man who never stopped waving.

“Nah, I’m sure that he means a different Brandon.”

He pushed the wheelchair and narrowly squeezed it between the bustling passing people, earning their frustration, and Cherry shrunk away under their grudging gaze.

“Yoo-hoo Brandon!” Dean called out again, his sight never leaving them.

“He seems to look at you, though?” Cherry pointed out.

Brandon hummed. “I’m sure that those sunglasses that he’s wearing is blocking his sight. He must be looking in the wrong direction-”

BUZZ…

The phone in Brandon’s trousers went off and Brandon froze before grumbling out some profanities when he heard Dean’s grating, jovial voice again.

“Brandon! Aren’t you going to pick up the phone?”

“Do you have an excuse for this one, too?” Cherry questioned with a small smile, feeling pity for Brandon as she could tell that Brandon didn’t like the old man, but had no choice but to interact with him.

Brandon sigh in resignation and turned around with slumped shoulders, before waltzing to where Dean was standing, grumbling in a defeated voice, “No.” As they moved closer to an impending headache, he looked down at Cherry. “He’s a person with whom I work closely with. He talks a lot of nonsense, so take the things that he says with a grain of salt, okay?”

Cherry nodded her head, wondering to herself how bad the old man could be.

But as the distance shortened and the old man came closer in view slowly towering over her as Brandon pushed her a disquietness that she couldn’t place sprouted deep within her chest, slowly spreading out like a wave of currents that made her body shake with tremor.

Once she was at the point where she had to crane her head back, the flight response in her body was at its peak and if it wasn’t for her immobilized leg, she would have bolted right there and then. Her confused mind and terrified body disconnected from each other, leaving her helpless and speechless. Her mouth gaping like a fish while her chest rose and lowered, fighting to keep breathing and not to scream.

“Brandon!” Dean engulfed the unwilling Brandon in a tight hug, burying his face in Brandon’s neck and rubbing his nose in it. Ignoring the displeasure on Brandon’s face and finally releasing him from the torturous hug, he said with a passive smile. “I’ve truly missed you the past few days. Why do I have the feeling that you’re ignoring me on purpose more often now?”

Brandon tried hard to school an indifferent expression, but the vein that throbbed in his neck from his grinding jaw was about to explode. He had no time to indulge in the old man’s charades.

“You must be here to get yourself checked for Alzheimer, because I don’t remember ever ignoring you.” Brandon commented, cocking his head to the side as he wore an innocent smile. The smile on Dean’s face didn’t reach the bottom of his eyes. He shortened the distance between them with a long, imposing stride, placing his hand on Brandon’s shoulder as he inclined closer. Close enough for his words to only reach Brandon’s ears. “Then tell me why you haven’t done your work for the past few days.” The hand that rested on Brandon’s shoulder took a firmer hold- a warning sign.

Brandon didn’t quail under the pressure instead it flared his irritation. He exasperated, “Why are you here, Dean?”

Returning Brandon his personal space, Dean took a step back. Brandon couldn’t see it, but he knew that behind those sunglasses the old man was blinking obtuse. “Why?” Dean reiterated dramatically, placing his hand on his chest as if Brandon’s words hit a sensitive string. “Obviously, I would come to my close colleague’s aid. I’m here to gift you this van, as I’m sure that it would be helpful. Also,” The glacial blue eyes dropped to Cherry whose face seemed to be drained from every color. Resting his hands on his knees, he lowered himself until he stood eye to eye with the shivering Cherry.

“I came to see if what I’ve had heard was true and indeed it seems to be true. I wouldn’t understand otherwise how she could stomach to be around you.” His words aimed at Brandon, but his scrutinizing gaze never left Cherry. Using his index finger, he tapped on the side of his sunglasses as he remarked, “Were matching.”

Cherry was sure that the old man meant nothing with it. He just commented that they wore the same sunglasses, but the thought of sharing any form of resemblance with that man drove a revulsion that tightened the skin, rising the goosebumps on it. She snatched the sunglasses from her face. Revealing the deep brown eyes that got angst pooling in them. The skin between her brows puckered as her mind unconsciously tried to crack the identity of the old man in front of her.

“Oh?” Dean’s eyes widen as he caught the apprehensive look in Cherry’s eyes. “It seems like your little princess doesn’t like me. I wonder why.” Dean mused as he tipped his head back to look at Brandon. Brandon let out a heavy sigh meant to shimmer down the irritation bubbling up in his throat. Using his hand, he nudged Dean’s forehead, pushing his face away from Cherry.

“That just means she knows what danger stranger means. We’re leaving.”

“Didn’t you hear me when I said that I was gifting you this van?”

“I don’t want it. There is a van waiting for us already.”

“I’ve already sent that van away.”

“Why would you-!”

“You shouldn’t be acting up so much in front of your delicate wife. What if your words are going to trigger something in her? We don’t want that, do we?” This got Brandon to swallow his words back, the knuckles on his hands turning white as his grip steeled on the handles of the wheelchair. “When someone gifts you something, take it without questioning it.” Dean took a hold of Brandon’s hand and shoved the keys to the van in it, but Brandon kept his fingers stiff, refusing to let them coil around the keys. Dean snorts at Brandon’s measle attempt at rebellion before catching the brown globes that kept alternating between him and Brandon incredulously.

He offered her a smile, and Cherry stilled under it.

“Don’t worry, miss Graywood, nothing will happen since you’re not the one driving.” His words were as bracing as a slap in a face, drawing out a pained gasp from Cherry as her hands held the small casket closer to her chest. Her expression became crest fallen as her jaw set, her shoulders quivering from an emotion that was as icy as the wind pinching her skin, chilling her heart.

A smirk filled with triumph found its way on Dean’s face as he commented. “Your wife seems to be cold. You better hurry and take her inside.” The blue eyes behind the glasses turned crescent as they rose to watch the inhibited anger residing behind Brandon’s eyes, resembling logs of wood ensnared in fire as he was unable to launch himself at the old man in front of hundreds of unwanted eyes. Especially not in front of Cherry. He tightened his grip on the keys, dismissing how its ridges punctured his skin, and guided Cherry in the van.

Cherry was stolen of any words as Brandon fastened the seatbelt around her. Her mind was no longer with him. Her attention somewhere lost that sucked away the embers from her eyes as she let her body being put in place like a lifeless doll.

Brandon strides in wordless anger to the driver’s seat, slamming the door close. He threw one last glance at Dean. The old man had his hand up, waving them goodbye. Brandon sparked the vehicle and drove off. Silence reigned in the van until the hospital couldn’t be seen anymore in the rearview mirror. Cherry’s voice was the first to tear through the stale air.

“Your colleague is a peculiar man.” She sat in a fetal position, her back facing Brandon as she cast her eyes outside the window, watching how the tall buildings shortened over time until fields filled with green stalks shrouded her vision.

Brandon knew how Dean’s words were festering in Cherry’s mind, turning her into a soft-spoken person. “Remember what I told you? Take his words with a grain of salt.”

“Is he your friend?”

“No.” Brandon answered adamantly. “Absolutely not and you won’t have to see him anymore after this, okay? How about you take a nap? It’s going to be a long drive.”

Those words were enough to turn her already droopy eyelids heavy. “Don’t we live in the city?” She commented, drowsiness lacing her voice.

Brandon hummed, “We moved last month.”

“Oh” was the only thing Cherry could usher out of her lips along with a yawn before sleep consumed her.

Her soft rhythmical breathing filled the car and eased the tension in Brandon’s body. Giving her a side-glance, making sure that she was asleep, he exhaled before raking through his hair, frustrated.

The brows that crashed against each other angrily gave no sign of easing down as Brandon dragged the palm of his hand down his face until it rested on his mouth. His mind pondering about something that deepened the creases on his forehead before stepping harder on the gas pedal.

Many thickets later, he stops at a gas station. From his side he heard Cherry stirring in her sleep and his heart stuttered, fearing that she was waking up, but she only turned on her other side facing him, before snuggling against her seat and exhaling back into her dream world.

The corner of Brandon’s lips curled up as he ushered in a whisper, “Cute.” He then unbuckled himself from his seat, stepped out of the van and went down on his knees, the loose debris rubbing against his knees as he looked under the van with his palms pressed against the concrete ground. The muscle in his jaw tightened when he found the tracker device latched on the rod of the van.

As expected, he thought before ripping the small device away. Pushing himself off the ground, he stared at the red dot, blinking reverently. He knew Dean was planning something, and that plan involves figuring out where Brandon would take Cherry as he suspected Brandon wouldn’t be taking Cherry back home.

“But.” Brandon’s hand clenches around the tracker, a vicious smile spreading across his lips. “It’s a pity that he wouldn’t ever find out. None of them will.” He was about to crush the equipment in his hand when he hears a car pulling up. The owner of it stepping out and trudging off to the convenience store. Watching the retreating figure, a twinkle of mischievousness appeared in Brandon’s coppery eyes.

Minutes later, the driver returns with some snacks in his hands and drives in to the horizon, not realizing that something was tagged under his car. Brandon, who watched inside the van how one of Dean’s toys disappeared out of eyesight, wore a satisfying grin as he spoke. “This will keep that old fool busy.”

---

The graphite clouds soften the hues in the sky to a pastel color. The rumble of the van came to a stop as Brandon parked in front of the place that they will call home from now on.

With hands still holding on the steer, he rested the side of his face on it while gazing at the sleeping Cherry. Unknowingly, his tongue sweeps across his lips as he counts the tugs of air escaping her enticing lips. He reaches his hand to her face, her luscious locks covering half of it. Normally he would shower her face with kisses, but that would be too much now, right? He questioned himself, pushing the hair strands away behind her ear, his fingers grazing gingerly across her cheek, earning a stir from her.

If he could, he would let her sleep, but she can’t stay in this van forever. Parting his lips, he sounded out her name ardently.

“Cherry… Cher, wake up.” No response.

This time, he gave a small nudge to her shoulder. “Cher, we have arrived. It’s time for you to wake up.” It induced a protesting grunt followed by his hand getting rejected by her shrugging shoulder.

“Oh, boy, what am I going to do with you?” He sighs, but the corners of his mouth turns up and his eyes that were bleary from surveillance and more than an hour drive cleared as Cherry had the talent of bringing out the contentment in him with the smallest actions.

He cupped the side of her face, brushing his thumb gently over her cheek. The proximity between them becoming thin where he just had to say a word and their lips would brush, rewarding him with a tantalizing feeling. Instead of what his body begged him to do, he pressed his lips against her forehead before moving his lips to her ear, whispering tenderly.

“Princess, will you wake up for me?”

Long dark eyelashes that brushed her cheeks fluttered copiously before revealing the color of autumn that stared right at him, drowsiness warring in them as she deliberately looked around. Studying the unfamiliar surroundings,

“Where?” came her groggy voice.

“Home.” Brandon answered.

“In a forest?” An abundance of gnarled trunks narrowing down into thickets was glaringly palpable to Cherry, and therefore also the lack of houses. They left the hospital when the sun was up, but now the blue sky has darkened, turning the stars prominent.

How far away are they from the city? Cherry wondered.

“We wanted to get a house in a quiet area so that we could raise up our child safely.” It was a tale, a fib, something that he came up with there and then, but he soon realized that those words should have never taken flight once the autumn in those precious globes withered, losing their luster as she became downcast.

“That makes… sense.” She responded haltingly, unconsciously tightening the casket closer to her chest. It aggravated Brandon to no end to see her holding that thing dearly.

Brandon cursed inwardly. “Hey,” placing his finger under her chin, he tipped it carefully so that the lamentably looking eyes would follow his. “Let’s get you inside. You must be tired from the journey.”

She nodded despondently and watched how Brandon stepped out of the vehicle and grabbed the wheelchair from the back before pushing it toward her door. Having her placed in the wheelchair, he guided her to the small house with walls build from logs of woods. Cherry would momentarily look up from the casket whenever Brandon would explain animatedly about their house, their ground. How the flowers that should have already returned to the ground were in full blossom, intricate around the house, painted with colors of the rainbow.

How the lamps hung around the house illuminated its surroundings in a soft orange glow. But all it brought forth from Cherry was a weak-willed smile before she lowered her head again. The view not having the chance to penetrate and blow her mind.

Brandon’s arm that was raised as he pointed actively around now laid limply back at his side. The pace in his voice retreating to a sigh when noticing his words fell on deafening ears. Disappointment jabbing his heart at not seeing Cherry’s expression transform in awe.

Even after they entered the house, it didn’t matter if Brandon turned on the light, as the dullness was still annoyingly present in her eyes. It gnawed at his hearts while his mind ransacked for a solution to bring back the glow in her eyes.

“I will fill up the bath for you. Take a look around and see if anything feels familiar to you.” This time he didn’t even get a glance from her, causing his face to frown with disgruntlement before twirling in place and stampeding in to the bathroom.

Once his foot steps disappeared behind the closing door, Cherry looked up and let her solemn eyes wander around the house. If she was in a better mood, she would have been astonished at how the inside of the house looked. The outer-look of the house really knew how the conceal the inside, which was vast for a one level story building. Only smooth white walls decorated with photo portraits of her and Brandon. Potted plants living in each corner of the room on the oak colored laminated floors.

But the one thing that caught her attention was the sliding glass door revealing the backyard. Placing her hand on the wheels of the wheelchair, she rolled herself toward it, sliding the glass door open with ease.

Her eyes laid on the flowerbed with red roses. In the middle of them a rectangular hole digged out, bringing forth a shuddering breath from Cherry. She propelled herself further, but got thwarted by the threshold. She looked around over her shoulder in search of her crutches, only to realize that Brandon forgot them in the van.

She contemplated to herself whether she should wait for Brandon, but she didn’t. Instead, she pushed herself off the chair, her body slumping down on the moist ground. She crawled with urgency to the bed of roses, uncaring about her dress slowly getting stained with different hues of brown. Stopping a crawl away, she sits back on her knees with the casket resting on it.

He really did it, she thought with a small smile. Her lips trembling, as her eyes glazed with unshed tears. Brandon fulfilled her condition:

Creating a grave for their daughter to rest in. In their backyard, just as she wished.

Huh?

A cold wet sensation spread from the tip of her nose, beguiling her to crane her neck and gaze heavenwards to see the clouds releasing its anguish. It’s funny, Cherry thought as raindrops tapped her cool skin. She couldn’t help but feel that the weather was grieving alongside her as the clouds have cloaked the sun ever since she woke up.

“Ha… ha” She let out a self-deprecating laugh before a keening cry penetrated her ears. It took a while for her to realize that the gut wrenching sobs belonged to her as she doubled over, becoming a disheveled heap as her grief poured out in a flood of uncontrollable tears, mixing with the torrent falling from the sky and spotting the ground.

Rocking back and forth, holding the casket against her chest as she whimpered out her regrets. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Forgive me.” She became a broken record as sadness became a weapon that pierced her heart, turning her words into incoherent mumbles. Letting herself become drenched where her hair darkened in color as the rain slicked it down against her face. Not even the jacket that Brandon draped over her at the hospital could withhold the rain from seeping further into her clothes, the thin fabric of her dress clamping on each of her curves like a second skin.

The tips of her fingers were trembling from the cold, but held a firm grasp on the casket. As her cries dwindled to whimpers, she took a shaky breath before prying the casket open, wanting to see the face of her child before burying her.

And once she opened it, her face broke out in a tear coated smile. She chuckled out meekly, gazing down lovingly at the stale fetus, “You’re so beautiful.” Before placing a kiss on the fetus forehead. Her eyes tightly shut as the kiss lingered longer than it was meant to, as if she was trying to breathe some warmth back in to her baby. Disconnecting the kiss, she closed the casket ones again and placed it in the ground before covering it with the moist earth.

“Cherry?” The rich voice, laden with puzzlement, broke through the keening hail and startled Cherry out of her solemn daze. She turned her tear-stained face around, her hollow gaze cast at Brandon who stood in the warm sanctuary called home. Already dressed in a black shirt and some loose pants.

Deep amber globes were wide in shock, clueless in how to process the scene that they were witnessing, but once they laid their attention on Cherry’s crumbled expression, they trembled.

“Why?” He took one mindless step towards her before stumbling in the garden, uncaring how the soles of his slippers got swallowed by the drowned earth, leaving him barefoot. He slides down and cradled Cherry against his chest, cursing under his breath once he felt how cold she was. Caressing her arms to bring back the colors in those supple cheeks he loves, he whispered soothingly,

“Why are you crying? H-Hey what’s wrong?” He panicked, watching how tears escaped the corners of her eyes after hearing his question. Cherry pressed her face against his chest as her voice broke in sobs, her fingers curling in his shirt. Tears seeping through it and the pain it carried crushing Brandon’s heart.

He caressed the back of her head. “Hey-” He was about to probe her further with questions until his eyes noticed the slight bump in the flowerbed before trailing his attention to Cherry’s hands blackened with soil, and he knew what had transpired here.

His words receded back in his constricted throat as he tightened his jaw. Firming his hold around Cherry, he stood up. Carrying her bridal style back into the house.

Feeling her body getting lifted off the ground, Cherry startled out of her sorrow. “W-what? Where are we going?” She questioned, ignoring the burning scratch in her throat, but she only received silence.

Brandon determined steps and Cherry thrumming chest, the only sounds echoing in the house. He busted the door open leading to the bathroom. The steam coming from the bathtub welcoming them. Kneeling down, he settled Cherry on the small stool. Confusion contoured her face until she saw his hands reaching for her clothes.

Tugging at the hem of her wet dress, the next words flowing out of his mouth made her heart hitch. “Lift your arms.”

“I-I can remove my own-” Brandon’s eyes, that resembled the state of his hair, dark and dangerous, snapped at her, daring her to finish that sentence. Rendering her speechless.

“You should have thought of that first before you rolled around in the mud like a toddler.” Compared to the other times he joked with her, his voice this time was void of any amusement, turning Cherry uneasy.

Seeing the wariness in her eyes, the look in Brandon’s gaze softens. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll close my eyes and you can wear a towel while I bath you. I won’t do anything else, I promise.” He let go of her dress and cups the sides of her face, rubbing the bit of dirt on it away. “I just want to take care of you.”

That still doesn’t make it better! Cherry screamed in her mind.

Heat pooled in her cheeks as she stared defiantly at those imploring eyes. Both of them refusing to yield to the other one, but in the end Cherry’s taunt shoulders turned limp as she heaved a sigh.

“Fine. But!” she added, pointing warningly at Brandon, who was already grinning ear to ear. “You really better keep your eyes closed and please bring me a towel.” She grumbled the last part.

“As you wish, my princess.”

And as promised, his eyes were closed while his fingers combed through her hair. From roots to ends lathering her entire head in foam. Cherry was sitting in the bathtub, her cast clasped leg protected in plastic as she rested it on the edge of the other end of the tub. Her head leaning back against Brandon’s heavenly touches, bringing forth a soft smile on her lips where hums of delight escaped from as she closed her eyes.

“From what I can hear, I assume that I’ve met your expectations.” Brandon said, amused.

“More than that. Can you move a little down and scratch my nape?”

Brandon chuckled and complied, moving his fingers down, their touch like soothing whispers, but once they grazed her skin, a cold embalmed her as the hairs rose on the back of her neck and Cherry gasped as she recoiled from the touch, feeling her body becoming impaled with fear, freezing her body though the fog in the room told her that her skin was flushed.

What was that? She wondered to herself.

“Cher, are you alright?” Cherry turned around, her wide frazzled eyes perceiving Brandon. His eyes still closed, but the brows framing them furrowed with concern as his hands that hung awkwardly in the air couldn’t feel her anymore.

She cleared her throat, “Um, yes, everything’s alright. I just felt… ticklish, that’s all.” She explained assuringly to him. Or was it more for herself? She reached the back of her neck with her hand, trying to rub the ickiness away that still pricked her skin.

“Yeah,” He snickered. “You were always ticklish.”

“Yeah…” she breathed out, trying to mirror his laugh, but it came out rusty. Brandon, who noticed the wobbliness in her cadence, rose his brows, receiving a head shake from Cherry. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.

She leaned back in to his touch and this time his touch didn’t repulse her, creating an even bigger question mark in her mind.