The brunette’s heart is pounding in anxiety. She is unsure of the best way to break the news to her psychiatrist. “Irene?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m moving to Canada after graduation.”

Irene has already been pre-empted by Wendy's parents a few days ago. Not only that, the observant psychiatrist has also taken notice of Wendy’s slight change in attitude. The girl seems distant, and bothered during their sessions as of late. Yet, Irene remains neutral with her expression. “Why?” the psychiatrist asks with her voice ever so gentle and calm.

Silence permeates the air in the room. Wendy bites her lower lip, then rolls down her sleeve. “For a fresh start,” she lays each word down slowly. “Maybe I’ll be better in a new environment.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“I can't love you until I learn to love myself first.”

Irene creases her forehead, seemingly upset with Wendy’s answer. “I've never asked you to rush into things, Seungwan. You can take as long as you want, I am willing to wait. But I want to be there for you. I want to continue helping you.”

“But I don't want that.” Apprehension tingles along the patient’s arms and legs. “My dad's company sending him to work overseas for three years in Canada. My mum has decided to stay here until I finish my treatment. But I told them I want to return to Canada as well. So I'll continue my treatment there.”

Although Irene has foreseen getting such a response from Wendy, that doesn’t stop the line of abrasion from crossing her heart. “Do you love me?”

The abrupt question leaves Wendy momentarily wordless, frozen in her seat. “I don't know,” she admits softly.

“Then I'll wait until you have a definite answer.”

“Even if it takes years?”

“Yes,” Irene takes a deep breath, “I'll wait until the moon perishes. I'll continue waiting until the seas run dry. And I'll still wait until the earth ceases to revolve the sun.”

“You're speaking like a foolish high school student,” Wendy chuckles.

“Only fools don't fall for you,” Irene mutters under her breath. “Now I'm telling you as a doctor, that perhaps change would do you good. It's regretful that I am only able to help you this much, but you've gotten this far, and I hope that your next psychiatrist will do a far better job than me.”

A part of Wendy wonders why Irene doesn’t try to persuade her to stay. She has half-expected the psychiatrist to list down the reasons on why she should stay.

“You've helped me, Irene, so much. And I can never be thankful enough for that.”

“Seungwan,” Irene says, breaking Wendy’s trail of thoughts, “when you love someone, you'll want the best for her.”

And Wendy no longer wonders.

But she doesn't know the psychiatrist has spent the past sleepless nights laying in bed, pillow soaked with tears as her heart plunged further down the abyss along with dull, crushed hopes of making Son Seungwan stay.

“Wendy’s dumping me for a psychiatrist in Canada,” Irene whines like a child as she slumps herself against the backrest of the chair.

Tiffany stifles a laugh. “You’re not even together.”

Irene exhales a deep sigh. “I’m serious, Tiff. My heart has been aching ever since her last visit. It’s been throbbing. She’s departing this night and I want to die.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Irene. A change of air will do her good.”

“I have failed as a psychiatrist.”

“No, Irene.” It is Tiffany’s turn to sigh. “Maybe you shouldn’t have declared your love for her. Love can be burdensome to some people. You, of all people, should know better. Anyway, it’s against our code of conduct to form any sort of intimate relationships with our patients, so I don’t know why you would take such a risk.”

“Wendy and I aren’t together,” Irene points out to Tiffany. “I just happened to express my affection for her.”

“Hmm, an adult expressing her affection towards a high school student, that’s cool.” Tiffany rolls her eyes and goes on to retrieve a file from her shelf. Before she flips open her file, she looks at Irene once more. “Maybe Wendy isn’t yours to have, Irene. She may be all ten chapters in your book, but you have to accept that you may only be a page in hers.” She reaches out to Irene’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, eyes crinkling in a sympathetic smile.

Irene had contemplated sending the Son family off at the airport. But she wanted to maintain a professional relationship in front of Mr and Mrs Son, thus she decided to drop Wendy a simple goodbye message: Till we meet again, take care.

There’s something about sending a short message, rather than a lengthy one filled with bottled up emotions.

For simplicity often makes one crave for more.

Wendy has always loved routine and numbers.

So she has been loving her job as an accountant.

1000.

She reaches for her calendar on her desk, and circles 18. Tomorrow, 18th July would mark her 1000th day as an accountant in her company.

“Seungwan, where are you going?”

Wendy halts her steps and turns around. Her eyes land on the lady who has her rose gold hair swept back in a half-bun. As she trots after Wendy, her four-inch red suede high heels click on the parquet floor.

“Stop leaving me behind,” the lady admonishes Wendy, her face then softens upon seeing the guilty expression on the latter’s face.

“Sorry.”

The lady gives Wendy’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

Wendy can only offer a small smile in return.

It’s strange how the person standing before her was once the girl who left her in the lurches.

“I don’t want to deal with your mess anymore.”

Son Naeun, her former girlfriend came back into her life over just a year ago. Wendy hadn’t imagined this before - that the two of them would end up in the same company.

Fate works in the weirdest way.

If there’s one thing Wendy has learnt over the years, it would be letting go and moving on. Thus, when Naeun came back, she forgave her easily.

“It’s in the past. We were young, foolish and careless with our words.”

The two have been civil towards each other since then.

“Are you going back to that place?” Naeun knows of Wendy’s weekly visit to the place. She only recently found out from Wendy herself, after mustering several months’ worth of courage to ask a question that she was afraid would be a little too intrusive.

Wendy nods, eyes straying to her wrist. She turns the black watch around on it. “Do you want to tag along?”

“If you don’t mind…” Naeun trails off, giving the now auburn haired girl hesitant glances.

“I don’t.”

As Wendy makes a right turn into the institution’s premise, she shoots a quick glance at Naeun, and notices the glint of nervousness in the latter’s eyes.

“Hey, Naeun,” she says, earning the attention of her passenger, “before we get in, I'd appreciate it if you can hold your judgments about the people in there.”

“Ah,” Naeun sighs in embarrassment, a hue of red evident on her cheeks, “I'm being very obvious aren't I?”

Wendy doesn't say anything and continues driving. She finds an empty lot in the car park and switches the gear to reverse. It takes awhile for her to park her car - the constant reverse and moving forward are part of her routine in ensuring that the car is being parked properly.

While Naeun waits for Wendy to finish her routine, she can't help but get distracted by her worries. She hopes all her worries are uncalled for. Furthermore, Wendy has told her to withhold all judgments she has of the residents. It'll be impolite of her to think of the patients negatively. “Promise me you're not going to leave me behind?”

Somehow, Wendy remembers asking Naeun the same question. Her clenches at the memory, the same time her grip on the handbrake tightens. “I promise,” she manages to say smoothly with a reassuring smile; enough to set Naeun’s heart at ease.

The auburn haired woman remembers receiving the same response as what she has just told Naeun. She remembers asking Naeun if the former would ever leave if she ever got too difficult to handle, and Naeun had replied with an assuring “I promise I won't.”. Wendy remembers holding onto such a promise, and then being slapped by the harsh reality that promises aren't always meant to be kept.

The prior image Naeun had of a mental asylum vanishes the moment she steps inside. Despite the imposing wired fences that surround the institution, the interior is unexpectedly welcoming.

“Good afternoon, roommate! What brings you here today?” the young woman decked in indigo polo tee greets Wendy brightly.

Wendy chuckles at the sight of her bubbly roommate. Former roommate. “Just here to drop by, as usual. You ask me the same thing every week.”

The squirtle lookalike beams. No one would have ever imagined that this is the same person who was once a snappy resident of the institution and had a sailor’s mouth. She has definitely come a long way. From the young girl who found pleasure in provoking others yet got infuriated easily when agitated by others, to the young lady who carries herself with pride and volunteers at the institution daily with hopes of helping the patients overcome their struggles. “That’s because I know you love repetition. It makes your already orderly life more disgustingly organized.” Her attention shifts to the taller woman standing next to Wendy. She wiggles her eyebrows. “And this is?”

“Naeun. Wendy’s…” Naeun turns to Wendy, but the latter is looking elsewhere -- lips moving, and Naeun figures the latter is counting something, so she finishes, “colleague.”

“Ahh… Well, I'm Yeri. Wendy’s ex-roomie and also buddy,” she announces proudly, mouth curving into a smirk.

Mouth agape, Naeun’s mouth then forms a silent ‘O’ in shock, her eyes two cluster bombs of astonishment.

Yeri giggles. “I kid,” she waves her hand off, “I was hoping this Wendy would say something but I forgot she has the tendency to tune out.” She clucks her tongue against the roof of as she realizes Wendy’s attention is elsewhere. She tries to follow Wendy’s gaze, and that only leads to the wall a metre away that has slight cracks on it. “Oh look, now she’s probably busy counting the number of invisible cracks she can see from here.”

“I heard that,” Wendy scowls.

“Oh,” Yeri rolls her eyes, “so you were pretending to be counting huh?”

Wendy bites back a sarcastic reply. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“Never asked for one either,” Yeri laughs, and Wendy’s lips tug upward into a smile.  “Anyway, I saw your favourite doctor going into Tiffany’s of