Doctor Leighton let out an exasperated sigh as she flopped back next to Simon, perched on a bench nestled against the pristine wall. They were sitting in a hallway, a swing door separated from the reception and a few corners away from Cherry’s room appointment. Their eyes lowered to the ground, catching shoes belonging to a patient or colleague every once in a while. “Here.” She handed a cup of tea to Simon. “Thanks.” He muttered, taking the cup and letting the rim of it touch his lips, testing the heat before taking a sip.

With her own cup of coffee nestled in her hands, Doctor Leighton took a sip and savored the rich, bittersweet flavor. Blowing out an exhale, she tilted her head back, resting it against the wall. “I need a smoke.” She confessed.

Simon snorts. “Please do that. I can’t wait to report to the higher-ups that you’re polluting our patient’s lungs.”

“You do that, and I will file a report that you’re trying to pursue an inappropriate relationship with one of our patients.” She retorted with a calm, unbothered tenor. Her droopy eyes not sparing Simon a glance as they gazed off heavenward.

“That’s-!” Simon sprung to his feet, hands curling in a fist as words of denial gathered in his mouth waiting to be shot only to have them dangling off his tongue and pluming to their deaths once his aunt shot him a side glare. The distrust clouding those silver tinted orbs made his own his eyes darken, causing him to close his mouth and sink back into his seat.

‘Why do I even try?’ His hands dragged down his face features before enshrouding it completely with his palms as his elbows propped on his lap. “Why would you even think that I like her?”

A subtle smirk splayed on his aunt’s face, pronouncing the wrinkles surrounding her mouth. “I think that only the woman in question was too oblivious to notice how you degraded back to a hormonal school boy just by standing in front of her.”

The hands which covered Simon’s face managed to stifle his grunts, but they couldn't conceal the tips of his ears, which were now glowing red. He was certain that he hid his feelings for Cherry flawlessly, but it appeared as though he was a walking encyclopedia of love. Should he thank God that at least Cherry was unaware of it?

The conversation between doctor Leighton and Simon soon turned stagnant, only interrupted by the sound of passing footsteps from random patients. The mist billowing from Simon’s cup had cooled to the touch and doctor Leighton now played with her empty cup between her hands, crumbling and uncrumpling it. Her silvery eyes that matched Simon’s would dart to the side to study him restlessly until she couldn’t stand the quietness anymore.

“Sooo…” She dragged the “o” out as she glanced indifferently skyward. “Why did you fall for her?”

“God! I don’t know!” His frustration catapulted him out of his hiding spot, propping his head against the wall whilst stretching his legs out, defeated. “She’s simply just breathtaking.”

“So, lust at first sight?”

He sends her a scathing look as he jutted his lower lip out sullenly. “Thank you for putting a lid on my feelings.”

“Okay, okay, how about attraction at first sight?”

“I don’t care what kind of sight it is. It has blossomed to something deeper.” He glanced down at his tea, wedged between his hands. His reflection on the surface rippled and changed shape, taking on the familiar playful grin of Cherry. “Her beauty has overridden any standards that I had created over the past few years, turning every woman’s faces into blots. My heart transgresses the speed limit at the simple sound of her footsteps.” Shaping his feelings into words and releasing the butterflies occupying his stomach in to the air mellowed down the soft lines on his face, baring an unrestrained smile.

“I long for her. And I realise that this longing can end up in a long, painful road that I’ll walk on forever, but hell, I’m willing to become a track runner if I can catch a glimpse of her face.”

Doctor Leighton let out an exasperated sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“What’s so bad about me loving her in silence?” Simon asked, noting how the gray, patched brows of his aunt had crushed against each other at his question.

“You can’t be seriously asking me that.” She muttered under her breath. “First of and most importantly, she is married. You would only be hurting yourself. Secondly, how should I say this?” With her shoulders bunched up, she wiggled her hands in the air, hoping to grab the right words from it. “You have a horrible taste in women and I’m not even talking about appearance wise. I’m talking about their personalities. You always get yourself in a relationship where you get cheated on, scammed off, or maybe even worse.” Doctor Leighton explained, ticking the list off her fingers.

“Cherry is a good person.” Simon retorted, earning a scoff from his aunt.

“A month ago you said the same thing about Angelina, but the next day she tried to get you initiated into her cult group.”

Embarrassment washed over Simon’s face, causing him to clear his throat nervously. “That was bad judgment on my part, but I assure you that Cherry is nothing like those other women I can feel it.”

“If stubbornness was a chronic disease, you would surely be having it right now. And you know what happens with most of the people who have chronic diseases?” She stood up and made her way to the trash can next to the bench. She hovered her mangled cup above the bin, released it, and listened to the clatter as it tumbled to its final resting place. “They die.” Her raspy voice took on a deeper timbre, possibly from years of smoking or the weight of seriousness in her eyes as they darted towards her nephew, who had a gaze fixed on danger.

Simon eyed his aunt carefully. Massaged the words that he wanted to relay between his lips, tasting it before sharing it. “But what if Cherry’s marriage is a lie?”

The moment he saw his aunt’s brows snap against each other and the corner of her eyes rounding up, he knew he should have pondered on his words a little longer.

In an effort to control her anger, Doctor Leighton screwed her eyes shut, feeling the tension building inside her. Doctor Leighton let her blond locks down from their tightly bound ponytail, hoping that the simple act would provide some relief for her pent-up emotions. With one hand on her slanted hip, she ran her fingers through her hair in agitation with the other.

“No matter how much you like this woman, you must admit that you’re sounding cra-”

“I’m not crazy.” Simon cut her off. Any hesitation surrounding his voice dispersed, giving it a serious edge. “I understand that what I’m saying right now sounds like a made up conspiracy theory born out of jealousy. But I promise you that there’s something really off between those two.”

Doctor Leighton narrowed her eyes in scrutiny at her nephew. Holding his heated gaze that held an uncompromising stance for a heartbeat before relaxing the muscles in her shoulders and taking a seat next to him.

“Fine.” She breathed out in defeat. “Before I use my authority to send you to a psychiatric ward, give me a good reason why I should entertain your thoughts.”

Simon inched closer to his aunt, where their knees touched and where his breathed tickled her face. Making sure that whatever he was going to say next won’t be bouncing from ear to ear. He told her about the time he found Cherry’s husband outside her room wearing a chilling smile that rose the small hairs on his neck. At the end of his explanation, a contemplative look settled on doctor Leighton’s expression.

“There’s a chance that he was genuinely happy.” She reasoned. “Not everyone’s smile resembles your superficial one.”

To that, Simon shook his head. “How the accident happened is also suspicious.” He asserted.

Doctor Leighton cocked up her eyebrow. “Car accidents occur almost on a daily basis. Nothing strange about that.”

“How many car accidents are there where the victims were high pregnant?” He inquired.

His aunt shrugs her shoulders. “Plenty.”

“I’m talking about the car accidents where the woman is the driver and not a passenger.” He groaned, his patience wearing thin from his aunt’s lackluster answers. Was she even trying to see the bigger picture? He wondered to himself. “I doubt that any husbands who loves their wives would let them drive a car when they are that far in their trimester. And even if they did, they wouldn’t let them drive that far away from home.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

Simon narrowed his eyes to slits. “He referred to his unborn baby as a body.”

“Maybe he was still in a shock?” She suggested nonchalantly as she swung her legs back and forth whilst studying her nails absentmindedly, grumbling something under her breath about her having to make an appointment for a pedicure.

“Aunt Sara!” He barked out to his aunt in turmoil. The cup in his hands got crushed under his anger to the point that the content flooded over the edge and trickled down his fingers. “Do you even hear me?”

“Sure, I do, but you do realize similar questions or answers will be given in the court or at the police station, right?” She assessed, and Simon’s eyes rounded as the realization downed in of what his aunt was trying to do.

Doctor Leighton pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and used it to carefully wipe the liquids from his finger while gently prying the cup free from his unforgiven grasps before discarding it.

“From my perspective, Mrs. and Mr. Graywood seem like a happily married couple, and I’m sure that the rest of the world also views them as such.”

The muscle in Simon’s jaw became tight as he gritted. “You of all people should know that appearances are deceiving, aunt Sara.” His voice hardened as he spoke. He didn’t mean it, but there was an underlying meaning behind his words that contoured his aunt’s countenance in a wounded one.

He instantly felt like garbage. “Aunt- aunt… I’m so-”

“Shut it.” She cut him off. Glowering at him. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” She warned pointedly. “I’ve been subjected to way much harsher words by my ex-husband, that yours are akin to a cute baby’s tantrum.”

Liar. She may have masked her visage with a strained smile, but her hand that went to tug down at one of her sleeves as if to hide something above her wrist proved his words had hit her like an earthquake. A habit gifted by her monstrous ex-husband, who Simon wishes he could have killed before he was sent to prison.

“I’m sorry…”

“I told you not to apologize. You dumb fool.” She breathed those words out with a heavy sigh. “You know that I’m saying these things, especially because of what I went through, right? You may scream to the world that your crush is in danger, but as long as you don’t have any proof, you may as well turn mute and pretend that you don’t know. And you know what’s more important?”

“What?” He already had the feeling of what the answer could be, but he still asked.

“The victim.” She answered. “The victim is the one in the end who needs to testify in the court against their predator. However, what good is it if they convince themselves they are protected and content with their abuser?”

“I know.” He groaned as he hunched over and hid his face in his palms. His aunt, with a gentle smile, placed her soft hand on his back, offering reassurance with a comforting pat. “If she’s truly in danger, then I will do everything in my power to help you, but you need to come up with a plan.” Her words were tender, like a mother trying to appease her child, but Simon knew what he saw, and he trusts his gut feeling. Still, his aunt is right. He needs to gather evidence and make Cherry realize that she’s in danger.

In his mind, a fleeting image appears of Cherry’s eyes filled with adoration whenever she looked at her husband, leaving Simon with a heavy lump in his throat as his heart shudders- understanding that this won’t be easy.