His temperature was taken, and a cool liquid was delivered into his body through the IV needle in the back of his hand. After relaying a few precautions, the family doctor tactfully excused himself.

Only the two of them remained in the bedroom. Simon Lockwood sat stiffly on the sofa in silence, while Joanna Kennedy held a cup of instant cold medicine and drank.

Simon Lockwood’s gaze lingered for a moment on the dark, murky cold remedy in her hands before quickly flitting away, a flicker of awkwardness in his eyes.

The cloying sweetness was mixed with the bitterness of traditional medicine, and Joanna Kennedy frowned as she drank.

"Does this stuff really prevent colds?" Joanna Kennedy asked, skeptical.

Simon Lockwood pursed his lips. "I’m not sure."

Joanna Kennedy was speechless.

’He’s not even sure, and he still made me drink it? What happened to that ruthless determination to make sure I got sick and miserable?!’

The room was quiet. Almost eerily so.

Simon Lockwood had completely shut down. He felt his image had shattered into a million pieces. Even now, he couldn’t believe that the man who had been crying his eyes out was actually him.

’The last time I cried... right, that was because of Joanna Kennedy, too.’

’Getting sick really messes with you. A virus invades your body, makes you emotionally unstable, makes you do things that don’t make sense. That wasn’t the real me. It’s perfectly normal. Perfectly normal. It’s nothing, it’s nothing, it’s noth—’

CRACK. The thermometer in his hand snapped, falling to the floor with a sharp clatter.

Simon Lockwood couldn’t keep up the charade.

Joanna Kennedy jumped.

’What now? What’s wrong with him this time?’

Joanna Kennedy was completely dumbfounded. But when she saw the mercury spilling out of the broken thermometer, she had no time for questions. She reacted instantly, rushing to throw open all the windows to air out the room.

Seeing Simon Lockwood still sitting there, putting on a cold front, her temper flared. "What is wrong with you?"

’That’s mercury! Is he kidding me?!’

The moment the thermometer snapped in his hand, Simon Lockwood had frozen. A flash of panic went through him, but combined with his naturally cold expression, it came across as an inexplicable, aloof indifference. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Now, hearing her frustrated cry and seeing her frantically trying to pick up the "little silver balls" with a tissue,

Simon Lockwood’s composure finally broke. He crouched down, stopping Joanna Kennedy’s hand just in time. "Don’t use a tissue," he said, feigning calmness. "It will corrode."

The man’s face was a mask of composure, as if he hadn’t caused this whole mess himself.

Joanna Kennedy wanted nothing more than to shove the tissue in his face, but when she saw how pale he was, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she just shot him a glare that lacked any real heat.

Simon Lockwood pretended not to notice. He got a dropper from the first-aid kit, sucked up the beads of mercury, and then went to wash his hands.

The back of his hand, with its prominent veins, was still covered with a piece of medical tape. A hint of blood was seeping through. He thought of her annoyed yet worried expression...

A glint appeared in Simon Lockwood’s eyes. With a blank face, he deliberately pressed down hard on the spot before placing the back of his hand under the automatic faucet.

Joanna Kennedy stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, her anger already gone. Perhaps she hadn’t really been angry at all, just incredibly anxious and worried. A faint sense of helplessness washed over her.

Joanna Kennedy sighed.

’So, are we back together... or not?’

Joanna Kennedy felt a constant sense of unease. This feeling of being suspended in limbo was agonizing.

In Simon Lockwood’s eyes, she was the one who had left all those years ago. She knew the reason for their breakup, but he didn’t.

’There’s no way Simon Lockwood doesn’t want to know the truth.’

And yet, he never asked.

It was like a balloon, constantly being inflated, hanging between her and Simon Lockwood, just waiting for the day it would suddenly burst.

Mending a broken mirror always sounded so romantic, but the cracks remained. Joanna Kennedy didn’t know how to explain what had happened back then, nor did she know how to bridge the six-year chasm between them.

’He must be struggling with this, too,’ she thought.

’We’ll have to take it slow. After all... we have plenty of time.’

Just as Joanna Kennedy was thinking this, she heard a sound from the washroom. She turned and saw Simon Lockwood emerging, having just washed his hands.

The housekeeper knocked on the door to say that dinner was ready and they should come down to eat.

On the dining table sat a bowl of bright yellow steamed egg custard. Joanna Kennedy casually placed it in front of Simon Lockwood. "You should eat this. It’s easy on the stomach."

Simon Lockwood stiffened for a moment as he sat down. His gaze flickered away as he feigned nonchalance with a quiet "Mm."

’Heh. Still putting on an act. Let’s see how long you can keep this up.’

Joanna Kennedy was about to say something else, but then Simon Lockwood picked up his spoon. She saw the back of his right hand, where the skin under the medical tape was clearly red.

"Why is it bleeding?!" Joanna Kennedy’s tone shifted instantly.

As if trying to hide it from her, Simon Lockwood lowered his hand. A flicker of pain—perfectly timed—crossed his features, but his voice remained level. "It’s nothing."

’How could it be nothing?!’

"Let me see!" Joanna Kennedy demanded, her brow furrowed.

Simon Lockwood’s voice grew softer, a hint of reluctance in his expression. "It’s really fine."

The more he acted this way, the more worried Joanna Kennedy grew, her voice now tinged with panic. "Let me see!"

Simon Lockwood had no choice but to "reluctantly" hold out his right hand. He glanced at the small, obviously swollen patch on the back of his hand, his eyes betraying no emotion.

Joanna Kennedy carefully peeled back the medical tape. The moment she touched it, she felt it was wet. Her round, peach blossom eyes widened in a mix of anger and alarm. "Simon Lockwood, are you an idiot? You just had an IV in. Don’t you know to keep it dry when you wash your hands?! What if it gets infected?!"

Simon Lockwood said nothing, merely lowering his gaze, the image of his pale lips and his handsome, weary features on full display.

And just like that, Joanna Kennedy’s anger evaporated. Frowning, she peeled away the tape to find fresh beads of blood still welling up from the puncture wound, the area around it alarmingly swollen.

"..."

Simon Lockwood said nonchalantly, "See? I told you it was nothing."

Joanna Kennedy stared at the back of his hand, silent.

An almost imperceptible smirk touched Simon Lockwood’s lips, though his expression remained mild. "Let’s eat. It’s not good to eat cold food."

It wasn’t clear which of his words set her off, but she suddenly looked up. Only then did Simon Lockwood notice her red-rimmed eyes.

"..."

Simon Lockwood froze for a second before quickly composing himself. A flicker of tenderness crossed his dark eyes. "It doesn’t hurt," he comforted her. "It’ll be better by tomorrow."

Joanna Kennedy remained silent.

After a few seconds of silence, Simon Lockwood started to feel uneasy. Then, Joanna Kennedy suddenly spoke. "Sometimes I seriously wonder if there’s something wrong with you."

"..."

"It was fine right after the IV was removed, so why is it swollen like this now? Simon Lockwood, do I look that stupid to you?"

Joanna Kennedy truly had no idea what went through Simon Lockwood’s head from one day to the next. He was an even better actor than she was.

’He must have pressed down so hard that the finger marks on the back of his hand haven’t even faded.’

’I never realized Simon Lockwood had this kind of masochistic streak.’

Joanna Kennedy’s expression was complicated. Simon Lockwood’s face turned to stone. He snatched his hand back and said through a clenched jaw, "Eat."

His expression was awful—a mixture of the humiliation of being found out and sheer self-loathing.

Joanna Kennedy stared at him for a long moment before getting an alcohol swab and a bandage. She then took hold of Simon Lockwood’s hand, none too gently.

His face rigid, Simon Lockwood let her tend to him. He could see her long, curly eyelashes and the focused expression on her face as she disinfected the wound and carefully applied the bandage.