Jonas piqued Sierra's interest. Even though Sierra still harbored suspicions about him, she had to admit the man had a thoughtful and kind side to him.

Sierra wondered why Cecile kept Jonas in the dark about Leone or even why they weren't together.

"Jonas, can I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

"Don't answer if you're uncomfortable."

The man smiled, "go ahead."

"Why did you guys split up?"

Sierra, too, wished to understand Cecile's and Jonas's status. Only the unsent letters revealed his existence. Without them, Jonas was a nobody in Sierra's records.

"We weren't together; Cecile would come and go. We were on and off for three years. I knew she had issues; I just profited from her presence and made abstraction of the rest, but a year ago, I blew up. I told her to choose life with me or her dead end. She left, and I never saw her again. I closed my eyes on the other men and her addiction. I was weak; I let her down. I should have stopped her."

Jonas regretted; Cecile was broken porcelain. Though sealed, one could see the cracks. Cecile was a living wound, yet she filled the lives of those she loved with joy.

The man recalled the heated arguments and him begging behind closed doors while the woman climbed out the window and ran off to get her Fix.

"We all let her down, Jonas. Don't be too hard on yourself. I naively thought she was having fun somewhere when she suffered."

Sierra remembered how Cecile reacted when the Gauthiers threw her out. She expected Cecile to be mad at her for persuading her to talk to her parents. Instead, Cecile thanked Sierra.

"I'm free; I won't ever go back to that house again."

For a few months, Cecile lived with Sierra, and then one day, she disappeared. Left behind, Sierra searched for her friend high and low only to receive a postcard from Brussels with don't worry, I'm okay written on it. From then, their friendship became a succession of letters and long-distance phone calls.

Cecile always gave her all, love and trust. Despite numerous deceptions, the woman's feelings remained sincere.

The Tiramisu seemed to implode in Sierra's stomach. Cecile was a subject that affected her in different ways, but here the woman knew the issue was elsewhere.

"Are you okay, Sierra?"

"I think I overate. It's getting late; perhaps we should get back."

Jonas nodded and called the waiter, who deposited their note.

"Leave it to me, Jonas."

"No, Sierra, this is for me. I'm living at your place for free, remember."

"You do the cleaning, and it's already enough." Sierra pulled the little tray with the paper towards her.

"No, please, Sierra," the man said and placed his hand on top of hers, which covered the tray.

Surprised by the gesture, Sierra pulled her hand away. The woman did not insist further, and the man did not even seem to realize what happened.

Her stomach took up all her thinking space. She found a little relief once outside, letting the air carry away the silent farts.

The car, on the other hand, was another trial. The woman could barely focus on the road.

"Sierra, are you sure you're okay?"

Twenty minutes, what were a twenty minutes drive?

All Sierra had to do was remain dignified while squeezing her butt cheeks, but the growling sound in her stomach exposed her.

She turned up the volume of the music.

Though Sierra said she was fine, the drops of sweat that made her skin shimmer betrayed her. There were the droplets and the smell of the gases letting their fragrance invade the space.

Sierra opened the window. The winter air, which usually made her shiver, barely gave the woman who boiled with cramps a goosebump.

Jonas remained silent, he did not want to say something which would embarrass Sierra and create an awkward ambiance, but Sierra's struggle and the odor the wind blew in Jonas's direction pushed him to speak, "Sierra, do you want me to drive?"

"Drive, why?"

Jonas cocked a brow at her question as she proceeded how she usually did by answering with another interrogation.

"You look like you're in great pain. Sierra, let me help you."

"Pain? No, what pain?" Sierra replied, letting out a nervous chuckle of a villain who would say I smile in the face of danger. Rapid explosive sounds worthy of Leone's machine gun farts followed her laughter.

Sierra lowered her head, admitting defeat, "okay, Jonas."

She stopped on a random street, and they traded places, "Sierra tried to guide the man while twisting on the passager's seat.

"Sierra, maybe we can stop somewhere for you toㅡ."

"No, Jonas, I just need to get home."

"The restaurant was empty. Perhaps this is the reason, Sierra. Maybe the cheese was outdated or the cream in the Tiramisu."

"Jonas, please. I can't play Cluedo with you right now. Can you just keep your eyes on the road and drive, please?"

Sierra's voice went off in a high pitch as her intestines seemed to do a double flip, pushing whatever needed to come out to the exit.

"Jonas, please, step on it."

"But there's a limitation."

"I don't give a damn about the limation, the fine I risk, just step on it, will you," the woman said before unleashing the mother of all toxic vapors.

Unlike what Jonas imagined, the restaurant had nothing to do with Sierra's predicament. The cause of her suffering was pride, which made her want to seem ladylike in front of Jonas. Sierra avoided going to the toilet when the man was around. Sierra held, and usually, she managed to go to the bathroom at work, but that week it seemed everyone had issues.

Her last passage on the throne was 72 hours old, and the food macerated since.

They arrived in the parking lot, Sierra tried to step out, but any movement was risky. The poop wanted out, and it knocked on the little door.

At this point, Sierra did not know what was worse between pooping on herself or dying with embarrassment in front of Jonas.

Her legs wobbled as she sprawled on her car.

"Sierra, come on."

"I can't, Jonas, Iㅡ," Sierra could feel it. Thirty maybe twenty seconds, she was about to do an Exorcist scene with her back's bottom lip when Jonas scooped her up.

"What you doing?"

"Sierra, just don't release any gases on me, okay."

"Because you think I can control that, put me down."

The man carried her to the elevator. Sierra went up to her apartment on the man's shoulder like a Persian rug.

Jonas rang, and Jacob opened, "Sierra?"

Jonas passed him and carried Sierra directly to the toilet. Once the door shut, the woman hurried to get her jeans off. The toilet seat felt like touching home base as Sierra unleashed all she had.

"So how was it," Jacob asked.

"Pretty good until, well, this. I restaurant we went to was a little suspicious."

Jacob smiled. Jonas was too polite.

"How did it go with Leone?"

"He's asleep. We're good buddies. I better leave; Sierra won't come out for a while."

In front of Jonas's bewildered expression, Jacob explained, "right now, she's probably dying with shame. So trust me, you'll be sound asleep when she comes out."

Jonas could not comprehend why Sierra would react in such a way as living together banished those types of boundaries for the man.

"It's just a tummy ache, no big deal."

"Well, for my sister, this incident ranks just after the apocalypse. The best way to help her is to leave her alone."

Jonas nodded and accompanied Jacob to the door," thanks again for babysitting Leone."

"It's my pleasure."

Jacob left, and Jonas became an auditor of the stranger sounds from the toilets. Time passed; it was at 11:30 PM that the toilet door unlocked. The pungent smell of bleach quickly replaced the savage odor which seeped through. Another door locked, and this time it was the sound of the showerhead that hummed as Sierra washed.

The woman just wanted to disappear. Sierra was not precious, but she liked people to have a good image of her. What a fiasco, thought Sierra. The whole mission dehydrated her; she entered her kitchen to drink some water.

"Sierra, are you feeling better?"

The woman jumped, "gosh, you startled me."

"Sorry."

"Jonas; listen, I'm good."

She made her way to the door.

"Sierra, it's not even a detail. It's not important, and I don't want this incident to make us take a step back to when we didn't speak."

"Don't worry, Jonas. I'll talk to you."

Sierra realized it was not just her body that was constipated but her mind. Futile issues clogged her thoughts. And that night, she flushed the doo-doo thoughts out with the rest.

"Are you alright, Sierra?"

Sierra smiled, "I guess there's nothing a doo-doo can't fix. Goodnight, Jonas."

"Good night, Sierra."

Masks, the appearances we try to keep. Sierra saw her facade flake while Jonas, who stayed real, seemed undisturbed. Perhaps his way of being was the better way. At least, this was how Sierra decided to be with Jonas from that night.