Simon stood by the mirror in the hallway, fussing with his shirt for the third time. Trying not to look too casual, not too formal.
"It's just a dinner," he blew out a breath, combed his hair back with his fingers.
And immediately, a knock echoed in the house.
"Simon, honey, get the door," Jeanette called from the kitchen.
He opened it to Mr. and Mrs. Lyon standing at the porch smiling and dressed like they were heading for a fine dine. Behind them was Jessica, she blushed, rolling her eyes dramatically. She held a basket of fruits in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
"Well, well, if it isn't the death-defying boy himself," she said with a teasing smile.
Simon grinned rubbing his hand behind his head. "Didn't know you were bringing gifts."
"You forgot the last time," she shot at him, brushing past him like she owned the house.
Steve walked into the living room, "Evening," he said warmly. His sleeves were rolled up. Smiling with two extra wine glasses, "Just as expected," he said the moment his eyes met the wine Jessica held. "Please, come in," he gestured them in as he walked into the dinning area.
A smile tugged through Mr. Lyon's as he stepped in. "Still as sharp as ever, you two." Steve had dropped the wine glasses at the table, now standing beside Jeanette still in her apron, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen, he planted a kiss on her neck.
Mrs. Lyon handed over the basket of fruits to Jeanette, "Well... Jess insisted."
Jessica shrugged, "You never know when someone needs an emergency banana."
"You brought my favorites," Jeanette smiled, accepting the gifts. "Come in, come in."
Now everyone was settling in when another knock was heard on the door.
"It's Elijah," Steve said, walking to the door. He had invited Elijah, Ezra's father. It was supposed to be a 'family and friends dinner.'
"You seem... better today, Elijah." Steve gestured Elijah and Ezra in.
Elijah a pale-looking man—suffering from chronic myeloid leukemia—should be in his late fifties. He was the oldest person in the room.
They all gathered at the dinning table. Steve at one end with his wife and son and Ezra, The Lyons sat accross their host with Elijah. The clink of plates and friendly chatter filled the air like music.
Elijah and Mr. Lyon asked about the crash with the concern of season fathers and Mrs. Lyon asked about the injury on Simon's arm—obviously, she's been the nurse taking care of it.
"I'm fine, really," Simon said for the fifth time, his fork spinning idly. "With grace and dignity." He shrugged.
Ezra snorted into his water, "Dignity? You looked like someone tossed you into a blender and hit 'purée'"
"Harsh, but fair." Laughter bubbled across the table.
"We're just glad you're alright," Mrs. Lyon said softly. "This town may be small, but news travels really fast."
"True—" Elijah coughed. "I remember when I got back to town after my leukemia diagnosis, everyone was suddenly at my door, offering what I never asked for."
Simon nodded. Everyone laughed again, but Jessica, something in her eyes lingered a bit longer than usual. It passed quickly, replaced by a smirk. But Steve caught it.
"What about you, Elijah?" Jeanette's gaze shifted from Simon to Elijah. "How have you been holding up?"
Ezra chuckled softly, "He's a really strong man—" His voice faltered. "It's just... hard to believe he might not see me grow old." His throat tightened.
Elijah reached across the table, clasping his son's hands. "We don't know that yet," he said with a faint, reassuring smile. Mrs. Lyon's hand came to rest gently on Ezra's back, comfortingly.
"But the doctor said you have just a couple of years left... 2 years?" Ezra whispered. "I really wish you didn't have to work so hard... that you hadn't been exposed to all those chemicals that messed with your genes, made you stop responding to therapy." His lips trembled. "Now we just wait... for death's cold embrace."
He didn't realize a tear escaped his eye until Mrs. Lyon wiped them off. He smiled at her.
"I'm sorry, everyone. That wasn't our intention. Let's eat." Elijah laughed, dragging everyone's attention to him. Ezra forced food into his mouth.
"So," Elijah said, reaching for the wine, "you've got the two-oh coming up soon, huh? Simon."
"Yeah," Simon said, eyes lighting up a little.
"Can't believe we survived your teens," Ezra laughed.
It's so weird that Ezra switches up so quickly. But no one wanted the lingering sadness to continue any more than it already did.
Jessica raised a brow, "Debatable."
"Argh! You wound me," Simon chuckled, acting like he had a heartache.
Mrs. Lyon giggled into her glass. "You two are like old married couples."
The two teens turned to her at the same time.
"We're not—"
"We're just friends—"
Steve and Mr. Lyon smirked into their wineglasses. Jeanette and Elijah outright cackled. The tension was light again, just the kind that made cheeks red and glances stolen.
The dinner went on. Stories, jokes and drama. It felt so good and normal in all ways Simon had been missing lately.
Just one table. One dinner. Three families. One safe evening.
And it was over.
Ezra and Elijah were the first to leave. Elijah needed to take his pills and Ezra had work at Serena's Cafe the following day.
The door clicked shut as Mr. Lyon and Steve stepped outside, chatting about car batteries. And Jeanette and Mr. Lyon exchanged recipes on the porch.
Simon lingered in the hallway, as he pretended to check his phone. Not like it buzzed. He just needed... a second?
Footsteps padded behind him.
"You always disappear after dinner?" Jessica asked with a low voice.
He glanced up. She leaned against the wall, arms folded and head tilted by the side. Her emerald necklace caught the light and shimmered faintly.
"Not always," he replied. "Only when I've been roasted in front of my parents."
Jessica grinned, "You deserved that. Telling my mum I give off 'wife energy?' Really?"
He smirked. "But I wasn't lying."
She rolled her eyes stepping closer. "You're impossible."
He swept his silver hair back with a wink and smirked. "But charming."
"In your dreams." She flushed!!!
They stood there, silence folding around them like velvet. The house hummed with the distant laughter of their parents. But here in the hallway... it was quiet.
Simon looked at her like he hadn't seen her in forever—which he hadn't. Her eyes, soft. Her cheeks, red. And her lips were caught between her teeth like she was biting back words.
He stepped closer. His breath ran down her neck, she quivered.
"You okay?" His voice came out softer than he had intended.
She blinked, caught off guard. "Yeah. I just... yeah." Struggling not to look into his eyes.
Simon nodded slowly, eyes still fixed on her. "Today's been... fun." He smiled.
"We needed it," she said under her breath, her cheeks still burning red. Then slowly, her eyes met his. "You—Simon, you scared the hell of me."
Something flickered in his chest. "I'm sorry."
She stepped a bit closer. There was barely any space between them now. Just one deep breath and they'd touch.
"You always say sorry like it's a joke. Like you're trying to make it easier for everyone else," she mumbled.
His smile faded, eyes on hers, "Isn't that the point?"
Jessica didn't answer. Her gaze dropped for a split-second to his lips, then back to his eyes, and for one heart beat the world stopped spinning. Simon's hands twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach out—but he didn't.
He cleared his throat instead, eyes darting to the floor. "You, uh... looked nice tonight."
Her lips curved, soft and dangerous. "Just tonight?"
He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Don't do that."
She grinned, squinting her eyes. "Don't do what?"
"Make me sound like I've got a crush or something." He blurted.
She tiled her head, "Oh?"
The hallway went silent with the weight of that sentence. Simon opened his mouth, then closed it. Twice. His heart thudded loudly in his ears, and his hands twitched. For once he didn't have a smart remark ready.
Jessica leaned in just a breath closer, enough to whisper, "You blinked too long. That's enough confession."
He blinked again.
Jessica didn't moved away.
Instead, her gaze softened like she wasn't even ready to let the moment pass.
But Simon wasn't yielding. He stood struggling with what to say or do. He wanted to express himself so badly. Grab her by the waist and lock lips with her. Do all of what he's always dreamed of. But before he could do anything—
"You know," voice warmer than before, "your birthday's on same day as the festival again."
Simon chuckled under his breath. "Just like always."
"It's kinda unfair," she teased.
"I think the universe just likes me. I am that special to her." He laughed.
Jessica raised a brow, "You doing the usual?" The lake?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I guess. They said it'd be different from other years. But one thing remains the same—"
"The weird pasta salad." They both said together, laughing.
They both grinned. The space between them shrank even more.
"You coming?" He asked, tone gentle.
"To the lake?" She asked.
"To my birthday."
She looked up to him. Her lashes were long, her emerald eyes brighter than the hallway light should allow.
"I've never missed one. Have I?" she asked, barely above a whisper.
"No," Simon murmured. "You haven't."
For a moment, the air felt different. Like something lingered. Something neither of them wanted name just yet.