Autumn.

The season reminded him of falling leaves, once full of life but now withered into nothingness. It was an irony, he thought to himself, of how an end to something was splashed in bright, yet dull colours of orange and brown. Autumn reminded him of her.

He paced his steps slowly towards the familiar surroundings. One step, two step; the sounds of childlike laughter echoed all around. Still the man walked, smiling softly at the strangers that walked past him.

Autumn.

Such a beautiful season.

A beautiful, bitter season.

He then paused at a nearby bench. It wasn’t the bench particularly that caught his attention, but the tree next to it. He thought it funny how the leaves seemed to still stay intact, but the man shook his head and took a seat anyway.

They weren’t going to stay intact forever, he reminded himself. The leaves will soon fall, just like the many others in this park.

It was autumn after all.

Nothing in this world was ever meant to stay intact anyway. They live, they die and they may learn to grow again, but it was the same cycle all over. Mark lived once. He lived when he had her.

And he died once too; when he lost her.

But did he learn to grow? There was no answer to that. Maybe he had his whole life to decide for one.

The autumn breeze lulled softly in his face, and the man closed his eyes. In the darkness he could see her; he could see Wendy Son.

He could see her dark hair, all the way to its’ tips. He could see her warm smile, and he felt an ache in his heart. Most importantly, he could see her beautiful eyes, one that always gave him hope when he had lost sight.

He sighed, the feeling of reluctance washing over him. He didn’t want to open his eyes. If he did, he couldn’t see her anymore.

But he did.

And his heart ached more.

“Still here I see.” A voice startled him out of his fantasy.

Mark looked to his right, and his eyes blinked once, twice, thrice. His mouth hung open, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. He could only stare.

“You look cuter with your mouth closed, actually.” She laughed awkwardly, and he swore he knew that she was going to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

She always did seem to do that when she turned shy.

And she did.

“I’m always here.” He managed a reply, but he didn’t know how that was even possible since his eyes never once left her face.

Those very same hair all the way to its’ tips and her infectious smile that still made his heart ache.

But those eyes that were once full of hope were now flickered in doubts.

“For the last three years.” They somehow ended up talking in unison.

The pair laughed, again, at the same time.

“I saw.” Wendy broke the awkward atmosphere. “You always come here, on this particular day.”

“The season.” He mumbled out a reply again. “It’s because of the season.”

“Just the season?”

Mark kept silent.

What could he say? What could he even say to someone he hasn’t met in three years?

“This was where we had our dates.” He started off slowly, but by now his gaze was on the faraway children running around. “This was also where we broke up.”

“And this was the date when we broke up.” Wendy finished it off for him.

The man nodded his head slowly, before attuning his eyes back onto her lovely face. He could finally see her.

“And this season, it reminded me of you.”

“How so?”

“Think of me as a tree, and you, my leaves. Once green, bright with hope, but as time passes by, you change colours.” Mark answered seriously. “They turned dull and one day, they just fall, leaving the tree bare. All and empty, awaiting a cold winter to arrive.”

“And you’ve been thinking this for three years?” Wendy frowned.

“I’ve been thinking of you every single day since we broke up.” The man honestly replied.

She bit her lips, not knowing how to proceed from his answer. The pupils in her eyes dilate quickly, as she tried to rest her unsteady heart.

“Then why didn’t you come for me?” Her voice was now a soft whisper.

“I could ask the same to you.” Mark breathed in slowly. He hated this part right here, where his heart unwittingly light up with hope. “If you had seen me for the last three years, why didn’t you come for me?”

“Because I thought I was just one flower.” She felt stupid saying that.

“Flower?”

“A tree has so many flowers, doesn’t it?” Wendy pieced her words carefully. “I was only one of it on a tree.”

“You thought I had a girlfriend?” The man was puzzled as to why she would think that when it was clear he didn’t. “Wendy, I came here three years in a row, and you thought I had a girlfriend?”

“I may just be one flower, but I was the first flower, mind you.” She tried to defend herself. “Of course I knew it will have a special place in your heart.”

He sighed disbelievingly, wondering if the three years had been a life joke. Talking to her now, what did he even do in those three years? The memory seemed stuck and he realised it had all pass like a blur.

“You’re not a flower.” Mark ran his hands through his hair, frustration taking over him. “You have and always will be my roots. The one I can never stay away from.”

“I thought I was the leaves?” She teased, but clearly at the wrong timing.

“Wendy…”

“I’m sorry.”

Silence marked its’ territory again, leaving the two to sort out their thoughts. Had it been stupid to have left things hanging for three years? Or were those years necessary to realise that they needed to fall back together?

“Do you remember why we broke up?” Wendy asked, and Mark knew it was the only question that mattered right now.

“Because you thought there were other flowers.” Mark laughed and he saw how she turned pink.

“I didn’t mean that!”

“But you did.” This time he smiled softly. “We broke up because you were jealous and I couldn’t understand why.”

The girl kept quiet.

“Or at least, I didn’t bother to.” He remembered bitterly. “But I did, for the next three years. Every single day.”

“We broke up because I was an obsessive freak and you wanted space.” Wendy ripped apart his sugar coated words. “But yes, same difference.”

“And now?” He asked seriously. “Are you still an obsessive freak?”

“Well, do you still want space?”

“No.”

“No, too.” She looked him right in the eyes. “Especially now when I know that I’m your roots.”

Silence.

“Well?” Wendy asked nervously. “What now?”

Mark smiled, cursing himself as he realised the answer to his one question all along. He flicked the girl’s forehead and laughed, before looking over her fondly.

“Ow.” She rubbed her now sore forehead. “That wasn’t romantic at all. What was that for?”

His smile turned into a huge grin, and Mark placed both his hands on top of hers; grabbing them tightly and vowing never to let go again. Three years was enough hell for him.

Three years was enough to finally decide on an answer.

“Now we learn to grow again.”