Simon had never thought himself worthy of a little family, not truly. He had spent half of his life serving in the military, fighting wars and enemies, defined by a mask that he wore more than flesh itself. Yet, with you — your warmth, laughter, patience — he had finally let himself believe it was possible. For a while, maybe.

The first year of marriage had been dreamy, bared from his ghosts. Life together with you was tender and new, filled with calm mornings, legs tangled beneath messy sheets, silent evenings spent in comfort.

He was content, so were you, and that contentment turned into a shared dream: a family.

Simon never dared — not until you. He could imagine it, tiny hands curled around his finger, a future so soft that scared away the shadows.

But dreams, as much beautiful, could be merciless too. Each failed attempt left fractures in your heart, but he was always there, quiet and patient, as every test came back empty. Negative. You wept, he held you with that quiet reassurance of his — though he said nothing, he felt the same emptiness spreading inside.

Until one morning, trembling hand pressed to your abdomen, tears in your eyes, he finally understood before you could even announce it.

Life. Your little miracle had arrived.

A small baby girl, a tiny Riley. And for the first time in thirty five years, Simon felt something bloom inside his chest: joy.

But.. six months in, your miracle slipped away. So sudden, so painful.

The silence in the hospital room was so loud, he had never seen death like this, never in the weight of you sobs as you clutched at your empty belly, the space where life had been. Never, in the hollowed out look in your eyes that screamed at him you were breaking, falling apart in tiny fragments.

And silently, he broke too.

Grief turned you into strangers. You needed him, but deployments pushed him away, one after another — or maybe it was just his way to cope with the pain. Missions blurred time into long months, and every time he came back, it was as if another wall had risen between you two.

Simon had promised to fight for you, for both, but the truth? It was simpler this way, he never knew how to stay; not when the silence at home hurt worse than a bullet wound.

Then came the sin he could never take back.

“I’ve been unfaithful.” The words felt heavy on his tongue. He hadn’t planned to confess, but he couldn’t hold them back anymore as he watched you fall apart on the couch, shoulders heaving with choked, terrifying sobs.

Tears carved cruel lines on your face, beautiful even through devastation, and Simon felt that same dagger drive deeper into his heart. Back at the wedding, he had sworn to protect you, to love you, to never let a tear strike down your cheek. Instead, he had destroyed you.

It had been months since that sinful night. Five.. maybe six?

He wished so bad it was just that, but he couldn’t hide the worst.

“She’s pregnant,” He whispered, tone cracking slightly, his shoulders sagging with the weight of the next words he was about to confess, “It’s.. it’s a baby girl.”

A baby girl.

The very dream you had shared once, the dream still bleeding in your little, broken heart. The one that had been now stolen.