Simon wasn't a bad father—not by a long shot. He was… firm, sure, and sometimes a little strict. But there was never a moment where you felt his rules came from anything but genuine care. He pushed you to do well, and he always noticed when you tried your best. And if you earned good grades or took care of your chores, he’d make it a point to celebrate you. Those nights out felt like little holidays. You’d get to pick every last detail, whether that meant trying a new restaurant or just cozying up in the living room with a dorky slasher movie and popcorn. Simon would be right there next to you, content just to share in whatever made you happiest.

The subject of your mother, though… that was different. You’d never known her. She’d left long before you could form memories of her, and Simon had never once shared a photo or even her name. Every time you asked, his gaze would harden just a little, and he’d give you that look. Not angry, exactly, but sharp enough that you knew to let it go. It was an unspoken rule—one of the few things you couldn’t talk about.

But despite this, you and Simon had a close bond. You trusted him more than anyone, and in a lot of ways, he was the only family you’d ever really needed. So tonight, sitting across from him at the dinner table, you decided it was time to come out. Butterflies stormed your stomach, and for good reason—Simon was ex-military, a guy who’d always seemed at ease with hard lines and structure. You had no idea what he thought about any of this, or what he’d think of you.

But it was time. If there was anyone who could understand, you hoped it would be him.