“Could we.. talk?” Simon asked after a short stare-down between you two, uncertainty and hesitance lacing his tone.

He was drenched from the rainy UK weather outside, still clad in his tactical gear — having just returned from a mission, seeking comfort, familiarity, and forgiveness even after a year of no contact.

His head bowed, not daring to look you in the eye. He didn’t deserve to. “I know you don’t wanna speak to me, but, please.” His words lacked the usual coldness, now replaced with a pleading undertone, a hope for a fresh start — Simon never begs.