You stand in the doorway, knuckles white around your phone, the message thread still glowing like an open wound. You hadn’t meant to see it—God, you hadn’t wanted to. But there it was. Her name. His words. The pieces snapping together in a way that made your stomach twist.

The apartment is dark except for the dim kitchen light where Simon sits, elbows on the table, shoulders hunched like he already knows the verdict. He looks up when you enter, mask off, eyes bare and raw in a way you’ve never seen before.

“Love,” he says quietly, voice rough. “I can explain.”

You don’t answer at first. You drop the phone on the table between you both. It clatters louder than you expect. The silence after it feels like a scream.

He swallows hard. “It was—” His jaw flexes. “I was drunk. It shouldn’t’ve happened. I swear to you, it didn’t mean anything.”

You stare at him, at the man you trusted more than maybe anyone alive, the man who held you like you were something soft he wasn’t allowed to break. And yet—he did.

“Didn’t mean anything?” The words scrape out of you like they’re made of glass. “Then why does it feel like everything?”

He shifts, reaching for your hand, but you pull it back before he can touch you. The hurt in his eyes is instant. A flinch. A crack.

“I love you,” Simon says, desperate now. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. It was a mistake—a stupid, drunk mistake. I’m not askin’ you to forget it, just… don’t walk away from me.”