Joanna tried to pull her lips into a smile, but she couldn’t manage it. Giving up, she asked calmly, "I heard she went abroad to study too, at the school right next to yours. Did you spend much time with her?"

’There she goes again, bringing up someone else in front of me.’

Simon Lockwood wanted to say, ’None of your business,’ but when his eyes landed on her red, swollen, and tear-filled eyes, his face tightened instinctively. "We never spent any time together," he said.

After speaking, Simon Lockwood frowned. "You came all this way just to ask me that?"

’See? In Simon Lockwood’s eyes, I’m just a petty, immature person.’

That was why he never told her about his hardships.

"That’s right," Joanna said with a sudden laugh, though she didn’t mean it.

Her long eyelashes were wet with tears and her eyes were heartbreakingly red. She smiled and said, "I only came to ask about that. Now that I have my answer, I should be going."

Her voice was filled with a sadness she couldn’t hide, and Simon’s heart seized. Lost in the dizzying pain of his high fever, he felt his breath catch.

He watched as she walked to the door, and his pupils contracted. In a flash, he was across the room, SLAMMING the door shut just as she’d opened a crack. His fingertips went white from the force of his grip. "Joanna," he said suddenly, "I didn’t ask you to come here."

His bloodshot eyes were fixed on Joanna as he bit out each word: "No one told you to come. You came on your own."

"Yes!" Joanna glared back, her eyes red and swollen, and said with self-abandon, "I’m just pathetic, alright?"

She hadn’t wanted things with Simon to get this bad. This wasn’t her intention.

A lover’s lips could be the sweetest candy, but they could also be the sharpest blade.

"........."

After speaking, Joanna could no longer hold back her tears; they streamed down her face like a broken strand of pearls. She yanked furiously at the doorknob, not feeling the pain even as her palm turned red from the effort.

The instant she pulled the door open, a sharp pain shot through her cheek as a large hand clamped onto her jaw without warning.

The next instant, the man surged forward, his eyes a terrifying red. With the ferocity of a predator tearing its prey apart, he smashed his lips down onto hers.

"Mmph..."

Joanna’s eyes flew wide. Pinned in the enraged man’s embrace, she couldn’t move an inch. All she could do was follow his lead, her head tilted back to accept his vengeful kiss.

Their breaths mingled, lips searing against lips.

All the love and hate of the past six years, the resentment and the avoidance, poured out in that single kiss.

Simon Lockwood’s heart ached until it was numb, and a roar filled his left ear. A radical thought seized him. ’Let’s just die here together. Then we’ll never be separated... me and my Joanie...’

’To hell with taking it step by step, to hell with plotting things out slowly. To hell with all of it.’

He should have admitted it long ago. He was a coward, terrified of losing her again, always trying to mitigate the risk.

With a force that threatened to devour her whole, Simon Lockwood kissed the girl in his arms with wild abandon.

A single tear escaped his bloodshot eyes and fell onto Joanna’s face.

"........."

Simon Lockwood... was crying.

The Simon Lockwood who was always so cold and reserved, so aloof and distant, the man who had everything under control.

The world went still. You could have heard a pin drop.

Joanna froze, a sharp pain piercing her heart as if she’d been stabbed, the lifeblood draining out of her in silence.

Simon Lockwood cried silently. He hunched over, holding Joanna tightly, and buried his face in the crook of her neck, his body trembling slightly.

His scalding tears fell onto the sensitive skin of her neck, the heat spreading.

After a long while, Simon’s voice, muffled and hoarse, rumbled against her skin. "...You’ll be sick tomorrow. This is your punishment..."

With such close contact, it was the most likely way to transmit the flu.

A stuffy nose, a headache, a dry, scratchy throat—it was miserable.

Joanna’s fingers clenched his shirt, her eyes swollen like walnuts. Her voice was so faint it seemed to drift in from a great distance. "Punishment for what?"

Silence stretched for several seconds; Joanna couldn’t hear a thing.

After a long moment, as if he had finally given up all resistance, Simon’s low, hoarse voice came out steady and clear: "...For leaving without a word."

So that was it. For six agonizing years, the one thing he’d resented was that Joanna had abandoned him. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

In that moment, Simon Lockwood finally admitted that it no longer mattered whether it was love or hate dug deep into his flesh, for it had long since become part of the wound itself.

Spanning the great chasm of six years, the two people on opposite ends of that river of time were finally holding each other tightly once more.

Joanna laughed through her tears, then cried through her laughter. "...Alright," she choked out. "I’ll accept my punishment."

Simon didn’t speak, only holding her tighter.

The intense heat from his fever radiated through their points of contact, making Joanna shiver. Only then did she snap out of her tear-dazed stupor.

’I almost forgot, Simon’s still running a high fever!’

KNOCK KNOCK. Two sharp raps sounded at the door. Jack Warren’s voice came through the wood panel. "Mr. Lockwood, the family doctor is here. Shall I have him come in?"

’The family doctor?’

Joanna was about to call out, "Come in."

But the man holding her suddenly sagged, pressing down on her with his full, weak weight. Simon nuzzled against her, murmuring, "Don’t say anything."

His voice was unnaturally hoarse, his breath warm against her ear.

Joanna felt her neck and face burn, as if she were running a fever too, but she clung to a shred of reason. "It’s the doctor. You’re sick. We need to let him take a look at you."

"We’ll see him at the villa," Simon said, his face still buried in her neck.

Outside, Jack Warren asked again. Simon replied in a flat tone, "Have him go to the villa."

Silence fell from beyond the door.

"Why are you making such a fuss?!" Joanna was both angry and frantic, pushing at Simon, yet reluctant to use any real force.

Simon remained limp against her, unmoving. Joanna was incredibly anxious, but still couldn’t budge him. "Get up! Do you want this fever to fry your brain?!"

Simon didn’t say a word.

Then, a thought struck Joanna, and she asked hesitantly, "Are you afraid of losing face?"

"........."

Feeling the arms around her stiffen, Joanna knew she’d guessed right.

Vulnerability from his illness, years of pent-up grievances, and a sudden, heartfelt confession—it was a perfect storm. Crying a little when emotions ran that deep was perfectly normal.

But now that he was lucid, he was back to being that cool, distant, untouchable man, so of course he’d feel embarrassed.

Joanna sighed. She suddenly felt that Simon hadn’t changed one bit.

Still so "strong."

"I cried too," she said, meaning to comfort him.

But Simon just said, "You cry all the time."

Joanna: "........."

She took a deep breath and tried a different tactic, feigning weakness. "Simon, you’re heavy, and my legs are going numb. Can you please get up first?"

Simon slowly let her go and stood up straight. He was a full head taller than her, his eyelids lowered, obscuring his expression and casting faint shadows with his lashes.

The bright red of his lips had faded to a pale white, and they were pressed into a thin line. His face was still unnaturally flushed, and his cool eyes still held the faint, wet gleam of tears.

Joanna felt her heart ache, as if it had been soaked in brine, sour and pained beyond belief.

In his current state, he was unsteady on his feet, let alone able to drive. So, naturally, Jack Warren would be their driver.

Fifteen minutes later, they finally arrived at the villa.