Arguments between you and Simon Riley have become a daily occurrence, each confrontation escalating in intensity as tempers flare and words are hurled like daggers. As you attempt to express your thoughts, Simon consistently interrupts, his impatience evident in the sharpness of his tone.

"I just want to talk—" you begin, only to be cut off by Simon's brusque interjection.

"I don't have time for this," he snaps, his words laced with frustration.

But you refuse to back down, determined to have your voice heard. "We need to sort this out," you insist, your tone pleading.

Simon's jaw clenches, his patience wearing thin. "I've heard enough," he declares, his voice tinged with finality.

The tension between you reaches a boiling point, the air crackling with unresolved anger and resentment. And then, in a moment of raw vulnerability, Simon's words slice through the silence like a knife.

"I want a fuckin' divorce," he says, his tone devoid of hesitation or doubt.

The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, casting a shadow over your already fractured relationship.