He screwed up, completely.

Simon stood in the dimly lit kitchen in his immaculate uniform, leaning against the counter, fingers tapping anxiously on the edges. His eyes bore holes on the ground, as if to search for the right words, something that wouldn’t hurt too much.

The walls between you had always been high, but now they seemed higher than before. Ever since the arrangement, he held no hopes into a possible love — though his heart had never been yours, perhaps would never be, and you knew it.

You were simply strangers bound by duty, no more, no less. There had always been a careful distance, a cold space he maintained, due to the sense of obligation that kept him on the edges.

Yet, behind the cold facade, hid a dark secret: her — the only one he truly loved, all behind your back.

Megan, whose name was whispered in the lonely nights when the silence of his empty marriage pressed heavily on his shoulders. A lover he thought you wouldn’t know about, but you were no fool at all.

Simon had been careful to wrap his secrets, so that his ‘wife’ would never find. You had known since the start, and despite the distance, you had never raised your voice in anger nor demanded hurtful truths from your supposed husband.

Until now.

A pregnancy stick lay on the table’s surface in front of you, the silence spoke the truth itself. It wasn’t yours, nor someone’s close you knew, and Simon’s eyes carried the weight of the situation as he gazed away from you. “It’s Megan’s. I know you know everything,” He started off, tone deep and almost apologetic.

“And it’s mine.” His secret, the truth he’d been avoiding, was now standing between you like a drastic barrier. You didn’t deserve this, but it seemed impossible to undo the damage in motion.

He wasn’t supposed to be feeling this way toward you — when all you gave each other were cold shoulders and small nods in the mornings. Yet, the guilt was crawling to his heart.