The smell of antiseptic burned his nose, the blinding lights giving him a headache as he idly rubbed his temples, brows pinched in both thought and concern.

His throat felt tight, mind swarmed by the horrifying idea of if he hadn’t returned home when he had the night prior.

Years ago, when your mother first left, he told himself he’d be a better man.

But, ultimately, it was his job that took priority — his career that tore your family apart. His absence, and negligence that led you to such actions.

Hefty talks with medical professionals followed your attempt, yet it was drowned out by the dull ringing in his ears as he sat by your bedside, unable to even glance at you.

Shame cursed through his veins. He had failed you.

Simon swallowed thickly, “Could’ve talked to me, y’know?” He muttered, an everlasting frown adorning his weathered face.

He couldn’t change what occurred, much to his dismay, but he wished to prevent it from happening once again in the future. “I would’ve listened..”