“This is the tenth one already.” Cherry said mindlessly while she scrutinizes the portrait hanging on the living room wall. The picture depicts a woman, embellished in a white mermaid trumpet wedding gown, being carried in a bridal style, with one leg stretched out and her right arm holding the bouquet in a mirrored pose. Her lips elongated to the max, trying to keep up with her agape mouth that was announcing to the world her unbridled glee that came out in the form of frenzied laughter.

That happiness was most likely caused by the man that effortlessly kept her steady. His hair, combed back, kissed by the sun, enriching the deep hues of acorns they contained and his towering form that kept the train of the woman’s dress from dragging on the ground. Cherry wanted to chastise the photographer for not properly capturing the beauty of the man. But what could the photographer have done when the man in question had his entire attention stolen by the woman in his arms?

Cherry couldn’t help but notice that in every picture of the couple, the man’s gaze was always directed towards the woman. Envy soured her expression, even though the woman in the picture was her and the man being Brandon. The images are pervasive, lurking in every nook and cranny of the house. The more she fixated on them, the more foreign she felt in her own skin - a dark smudge on a canvas that only smears further with each attempt to scrub it off.

“She looked so happy, no…” she corrected herself. “I looked so damn happy.”

She wondered if there was even one damn picture where they didn’t look happy.

Standing on the other side of the living room, she glanced at the garden from the corner of her eyes, where a flower crown now rested on the earthy mound. Her fingers curled into a fist and she had to take in a shaky breath before wrenching her gaze away from the outside and returning it to the painting.

This house should have been filled with laughters, lively conversations and the pitter-patters of children, but she took it all away. She was the smeared paint that blackened the light inside the house.

“I feel like I’m going crazy.” Cherry whispered to herself.

Wanting to get out of this room before the guilt would consume her whole, she veered away from the pictures and let her crutches guide her throughout the spacious house. Mindlessly, she passed each room until she saw the rays of the vivacious sun spill out of an open room into the cold, dark corridor.

The scratching sounds of the crutches supporting Cherry’s body echoed through the halls until she stops at the entrance of the room. She allowed her gaze to sweep the room once, and now she was immersed in it, finding herself on the other side of the threshold.

The walls are adorned with bookcases brimming with books. She ran her fingers over the spines of the books, feeling the texture and weight of each one. The intricate design and texture of each book’s embryonic form captivated her attention. Her previously somber eyes now filled with amazement.

“There are so many books here. I may have to warn Brandon that he won’t be seeing me for the next couple of days.” She snickers. “Which book should I start reading first- hmm?”

Her fingers stilled when her eyes moved over the clumsily carved out letter ‘C’ on one of the books’ spine. Cherry’s eyes dilated with recognition and hastily seized the book from its position. “How’s this possible?” Disbelief tinged her voice as she flipped through the yellowed pages of the book, the sound of crinkling paper filling the air. Scattered throughout the pages were child-like doodles, causing a wave of nostalgia to wash over her.

“What is this book doing here?” Cherry's fingers grazed the rough, naked spine of the book - the outer cover that usually protected it was missing, taking the title with it, leaving only the frayed edges, but Cherry didn’t need the title to know that this worn out book was hers.

“Tangled.” She spoke wistfully. She was sure that she had lost that book when she was little. How did it get here? Did she perhaps somehow find it again when she was dating Brandon?

Her brain ransacked every memory drawer to find an answer, but by doing so, one question arose: How did I lose it?

She remembered how she abused this book, by reading it over and over until she could narrate it from memory alone. A book that was so dear to her, but how she lost it eluded her and left her even more puzzled.

“Why can’t I remember?” The more furiously she thought about it, the more it felt like her head was being pierced by stacks of needles. It felt like the ground was being yanked away from beneath her feet as nausea blurred her vision. If it wasn’t for her crutches, her leg would have folded under her weight.

“Argh…” she grunts as she placed the book back on the shelf. In the midst of her haziness, she caught sight of the obsidian desk perched under the windowsill. Its surface was bare except for the small lamp standing in the corner and the chair with wheels that accompanied the furniture never looked more inviting.

It took every ounce of Cherry’s body to drag herself to the chair and heaved out a huff when she plumped down on it. Her head lulled back and eyes closed. Her face sided in a sheen of sweat as she painstakingly tried to catch her breath.

Opening her heavy eyelids, she stared through the windowpane as her consciousness retreated to the back of her mind. The gleam in her eyes faded with each passing moment, leaving behind a lifeless expression on her face. She peered sightlessly at the swaying foliages of the furrowed trees rustles and the birds that danced freely through the sky.

“Cherry.” Hearing her name and feeling the stronghold on her left shoulder snapped her out of her daze. Her head whipped to the side to see Brandon peering down at her. His face etched with concern.

The clouds that enshrouded the light in her caramel eyes dispersed at recognizing her husband, and a slow smile formed on her lips. “Hey, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work right now?”

Brandon’s forehead furrowed deeper, creating deep folds. “What are you talking about, Cher? It’s already 5 pm. I’m here to pick you for your appointment with the counselor.”

“What?” Her eyes widened before darting towards the world outside, capturing the new scenery that differed from what she saw a moment ago. Minutes ago, the sun was so high in the sky that it was forcing Cherry’s gaze to a squint, but now the sun was barely visible over the horizon, casting a weak light on the gnarled trees and the forest floor.

How many hours was she in a daze for?

“Y-Yeah, you’re right. I-I was just a little too lost in thoughts.” She avoided eye contact with Brandon, waving her hand frantically in front of her while nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The smile that she forced on her face was so crooked that it rattled Brandon for a second before concern took reign of his face once again.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. Feeling her hands turning clammy, she smoothed the wrinkles on her shorts down as she spoke loud enough for her voice to tingle Brandon’s ear. “Nothing.”

But not taking that for an answer, Brandon placed his hands on the armrests of the chair that Cherry was sitting on, locking her in between his broad arms before swiveling her around and forcing her to face him. Cherry’s breath hitched as she came face to face with the penetrating, grounded eyes. “Talk to me.” He pleaded, his voice welcoming, bewitching her, like a snake charmer trying to lure out the snake from its pot.

Cherry bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to speak as she focused her gaze on the bookcases lined across the walls of the room. “Princess.” Brandon held her chin and gently guided her focus back to him. “Don’t look at those books. They won’t hear out your story like how you would read theirs, but I will. I won’t miss one word. Talk to me.”

Crap. She could feel how his words caused a revolution in her body. Her emotions fighting against the dam that hid them away, creating cracks and soon she could feel the itchiness scratching her throat and tears trickling down her eyes. Gliding down her cheeks and staining Brandon’s hand.

“What’s the reason for your tears, princess?” Brandon asked once more.

“S-Stop calling me princess, it’s- it’s cringy.” She sniffed.

A small, knowing smile played on Brandon’s lips as he gently brushed away her tears.“You don’t like it?”

Cherry shook her head vehemently, still letting the tears stream down her face, answering in a small wobbly voice, “No, I like it. But you should save those words for her.”

“Her?” Brandon reiterated, shock marring his face while his thoughts spiralled out of control. Who could she be possibly talking about when there’s no way for anybody to reach her in this no man’s forest? Unless she is starting to remember something and spontaneously remembered the woman that he had killed on the day of the accident. As restlessness gnawed at him, his shrewd mind sank deeper into a malicious abyss with each question he asked himself.

Hollowness dripped from his gaze that was aimed at Cherry as the sensation in his nerves became numb to all rationality. He will not let her go, even if she starts to remember. She can scream, fight and beg, but she will soon realize that her pleads gets swallowed by the dense forest and that her broken leg can’t even carry her outside the house. She will understand that everything that he had done was out of love for her and will start to love him in return.

His gaze reeled down to her legs as he thought, ‘Should I break her other leg, just to be safe?’

Noticing the fog in his eyes and absents of words, Cherry arched her brow before continuing her speech, sniffles seamlessly interrupting her every word in her sentence. “Yeah, the person that I was before the incident.”

Hearing it released all the tension in Brandon’s body as he briefly closed his eyes and deliberately released a quiet exhale. He nodded his head. “Right.” And turned away from Cherry before walking away from her.

“Where are you going?” She questioned, feeling a crack forming in her heart, as she didn’t want to be alone right now.

Brandon’s stride remained unwavering as he neared the exit, and he uttered, “I’m going to grab a chair as I feel like whatever (nonsense) you’re going to say will knock me of my feet and I don’t want to hit my head against anything.”

Cherry blinked the last bit of tears away, scrunching her nose up in confusion. “Did you just say nonsense?”

“I’llberightback.” He delivered in one word, before disappearing in the halls like a smoke screen.

He brought back a wooden chair and sat in front of her. His knees now bumping against hers. Folding his arms, he leaned back against the chair. He now seemed lethargic, like the years has been sucked out of him, making Cherry wonder if he found her bothersome now. Solemnly, her gaze flickered down to her fumbling hands on her lap.

“So you said something about the past you?”

She nodded silently.

“Why say that when you’re literally the same person?” He inquired.

“We are not the same person.” Cherry’s grumbling was met with a heavy sigh from Brandon, who closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So you’re basically saying that I should not shower you with affection until you’ve recovered your memory? Yeah, no way that I’m going to do that. You’re my wife, for fucking sake. I’ll love you because you’re the person that I love.”

“What If I never recover my memories again?” Her voice came out in barely a whisper that Brandon had to strain his ears to catch even one syllable.

That would be bloody fantastic, Brandon confessed inwardly, but assured her, “That won’t change my feelings for you.” She stared at him, evaluated him and somehow still concluded in that pretty mind of hers that he was lying.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not-”

“You won’t be acting the same when you realize after weeks have passed that I’m not the same woman you fell for!” Tears once again glazed Cherry’s eyes as she heaved out her voice, but this time they didn’t spill. Brows clashing against each other as the nails of her clenched hands were digging in her palms. “When you realize that the woman in those pictures who would always make you smile doesn’t exist anymore. When I suddenly hate the things which she used to like. What if I lose the core reason why you liked me in the first place?” Her voice thinned out into a feeble sound.

“I will not sit around and wait for you to act like a dick to me, so-”

Her rage fell off mid-sentence, witnessing how every facet of Brandon’s face was twitching, lips quivering, fighting not to arch, and his eyes sparkled with unshed tears of mirth. She narrowed her gaze at him begrudgingly. “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry-sorry.” He guffawed. “I’m not laughing at you. I just can’t contain this happiness, as it sounds like you hate the thought of me losing affection for you. But why would you be worried about that unless you like me? I must say that compared to the first time, you’re falling awfully fast for me this time around.” Brandon wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at her as he flashed her a grin.

“L-Like you? Me-Me?” Cherry spurted, feeling how her face deliberately embossed in red.

“You’ve got it totally wrong! I-I just see you as a cordial friend and it would suck to lose a friendship like this.” Words kept flowing out of her mouth incessantly in a panic against her palpitating heartbeat as her vision began to spin. “I just don’t want to see you heartbroken when you realize the truth!”

Brandon hummed, his infuriating smile refusing to relent. “I never knew that you let your friends kiss you.”

“That’s not the point! You’re only hearing what you want to hear!-”

Thud!

The sudden noise jolted her out of her flustering state, and she turned quickly to see where it came from. The book that she picked up earlier was now planted on the soft carpet. She blinked obtusely at it as she was sure that she securely had placed the book back at its place, but now it was on the ground as if something had shoved it out.

She couldn’t ponder on it for long before the sound of rustling fabric drew her back to Brandon, who was removing his tie and suit. Cherry’s eyes widened in shock as pink dusted across her cheeks. “What are you doing!?” She screeched as she was about to lunge herself at Brandon to thwart his sudden strip impulse, but once her eyes laid on the nicked scars welted around his torso the air got knocked out of her body and her lips parted in astonishment.

The words that she wanted to say to Brandon got stuck in her throat it now dry like the coarse sand. Cherry’s mind was racing, and her mouth kept opening and closing as she struggled to find the right words. Brandon, seeing her struggle, decided to ease the tension by starting the conversation.

“My father left me these scars.”

Cherry’s eyes snapped to meet the relaxed look in Brandon’s eyes. “Let’s just say that my mom’s death, in combination with alcohol, equals a horrible father.” He chuckled to himself. It was as if he was recounting a tale about someone other than himself, and it only deepened the creases on Cherry’s forehead, wondering if the man in front of her was simply masking his pain.

She reached out her hand and paused it mid-air, looking at Brandon beneath her eyelashes, trying to garner from his body language whether it was alright for her to touch him. The subtle curl in the corner of his lips told her enough. Gently, she rested her palm against his chest. She took in a sharp, shaky breath as the depth of the scars was vast enough for her fingers to dip and slide through it.

“It surely must have hurt a lot.” She finally found the courage to speak, her eyes locking onto Brandon’s, and his smile grew wider with her undivided attention. “Like a bitch.”

Cherry pursed her lips. “I’m not sure if that man can be called a father, let alone a human.”

Brandon hummed in agreement. “That’s why he’s dead.” Shock contoured her expression and Brandon noticing that added quickly with an indifferent shrug, “It was a drunken accident.”

“Oh…” She pondered, her hands still wandering across his torso and Brandon longed for her to desist as the cautious touch of those delicate fingers aroused something innate in him and those naïve doe eyes that conveyed their obliviousness to the turmoil they were creating in him prompted him to clench his jaw and exert self-control over his urge to embrace this stunning woman. With impeccable strength, he gripped the armrests until the wooden pillar began to crack and chip away. “All happened a long time ago, so don’t feel sad about it. Do you find me disgusting now?”

Cherry shook her head.

“Do you hate me now? Did I destroy any good image you had over me with my hideous appearance?” Another shake of her head.

“Don’t call yourself hideous. What kind of nonsense is that? How could I hate somebody who fought to survive? These scars that you bear prove you went to war and survived. These are warrior scars.” Her smile was soft and gentle as her eyes perceived the scars intently, full of kindness and empathy. “And they are beautiful.” Her voice was melodious, soft.

Brandon stiffens under her touch.

‘Huh?’ Cherry blinked copiously.

The wind howled outside, making the windowpanes rattle, and breaking the sudden silence that filled the room. A deep shade of crimson crept up Cherry’s neck and gradually spread across her face, indicating her realization of the inappropriate position she and Brandon were in. However, she was at a loss for what to do with her hands, which were still awkwardly perched against his taut chest.

“Um!” she spoke, raising her eyes to Brandon’s face, but her breath staggered as the distance between their lips became now hairbreadth. Her heart ricocheted against her ribcage, about to pulverize it with its sheer force.

“Me too.”

“Huh?” Cherry got too preoccupied with Brandon’s lips that she didn’t catch what he said.

Crow feet appeared in the corner of Brandon’s eyes from the chuckles escaping his mouth. “You said that twice now.”

‘He heard my thoughts again’. Cherry felt her cheeks flush as she realized he had once again heard her thoughts. Her hands recoiled from his touch as if they had been burned, but Brandon's rough hands prevented them from pulling away.

“I too, find you beautiful, despite any external or internal scars. I find it funny how you think that I’ll hate you. How can I hate someone who mourns for a child they don’t even remember having?” Letting go of her hands, he cups her face, mushing her cheeks together, causing her lips to jut out. “The loss of our child isn’t your fault and you losing your memory will never be a turnoff for me. It’s the opposite even. I do enjoy a hunt, after all.” He offered her a boyish grin, and she knew at that moment that all the love she was ever going to need was contained in that sweet smile. It was fast, nor did it make sense, but it would make even less sense for her not to fall in love with a man who’s not afraid to shower her with unbidden love.

With her face still squished in an impeccable hold, her expression drooped down, tears threatening to escape. “I’m about to cry.”

“I appreciate the warning, but please don’t.” He joked, molding her cheeks as if he was playing with clay. “I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do. Loving you. Regardless of how many times you try to push me away or run, I will always hold onto you. You hear me?”

Cherry hummed, nodding firmly as mucus and tears leaked from her eyes and nose. Brandon gave her space to cry, and she was grateful since her mind was all over the place. The guilt still shackled in deep, but at least now she could breathe knowing somebody will comfort her unconditionally.

After her crying subsided, she became conscious of the breeze caressing her rosy cheeks and the fact that her hands were now interlocked with Brandon’s. “You’re not asking me anymore if I hate it.” She commented, referring to the time in the hospital when he had comforted her just like he was doing now. 

He smiled. “It’s because you need it. You need me.”

“How haughty.” She murmured, but nevertheless returned a smile of her own.

“Should I cancel your appointment with the doctor?” Brandon inquired to see Cherry shaking her head. “No, let’s go. I want to get better as soon as possible.”

“Alright.” Brandon answered and in one swift movement gathered Cherry in his arms. Cherry yelped as her hands flew to crinkle the fabric cladding Brandon’s chest anxiously.

“For the thousandth time I can move fine by myself.” Cherry berated.

“True, but I walk faster.” Cherry groaned, hearing his retort. Brandon brought his mouth closer to her ear and spoke softly, “And my princess shouldn’t be walking when I’m here.” The corner of his lips subtly rose, seeing the tips of her ears glowing red.

“We’re running late for the appointment.” Cherry’s voice cracked as she struggled to divert the conversation to another topic, causing Brandon to chuckle at her adorable attempt before planting a tender kiss on the top of her head. “As my princess commands.”

As they were leaving, Brandon picked up the book that had fallen on the carpet and placed it back between the other books. Observing how intently Cherry’s gaze was fixed on the book and how her fingers tightened their grip on his chest, he asked, “Do you remember this book?”

Cherry shifted her eyes up at Brandon, waiting for him to continue. “You told me once when we were dating that you had a collection of books that you held dear, but one day you lost them during an accident.”

“Did I tell you what the accident was about?” Cherry inquired, not hiding the curiosity lacing her voice. Brandon shook his head. “You said that you couldn’t remember the accident, but you were sure that there was an accident. One day you went to visit your parents, and you came back all happy saying you found them again.”

“Them? There’s more?”

Brandon beckoned towards the other books that were hidden on the bookshelves. All of them had the initial ‘C’ chiseled into their spines. Cherry gasped in awe. “And like the hoarder that you are, we decided the stow them away in this room.”

“I see…” Cherry answered before falling back into silence. She was in an accident when she was younger? If the her right now should have all the memories before meeting Brandon, then why couldn’t she remember being in an accident before? Is it perhaps because she was too young to remember? She couldn’t mull on the matter for too long as Brandon started to suddenly juggle her around in his arm, akin to a father tossing his child into the air before catching them.

“Brandon!” she squealed. “Are you crazy!?”

“Aren’t you too light? Are you eating enough?” He wondered as he kept tossing her up.

“Yes! Yes! I am! I’m going to vomit, so stop!” She pleaded as she screwed her eyes shut. Her nails firmly anchoring into Brandon’s shoulder to resist any movement.

“There, there.” He comforted her jokingly, but his jolly voice didn’t match the stoic expression on his face. With an ominous gaze, he casted one last look over his shoulder at the bookshelf before shutting the door behind him.