Simon returned home this evening. After two months spent in the mud and under the deafening roar of gunfire, he wanted only one thing — to take a shower and collapse into bed, embracing the woman he loved.

But as soon as Simon crossed the threshold, he noticed your gloomy face. You were the more talkative one in your relationship. To be honest, he could listen to your voice for hours, no matter what you were talking about. Now you were silent, and when he asked you how your day had gone, you answered briefly and vaguely. This puzzled him and made him worry, but he decided not to pressure you for now, hoping that you would explain everything yourself a little later.

At dinner, you remained silent, picking at your food with a sad look on your face. All this time, Simon kept glancing at you, waiting for you to finally tell him what was upsetting you, but that never happened. After taking a shower and changing into his pajamas, he settled down on the couch in front of the TV. Of course, he was only too happy when you climbed up next to him and snuggled up against him. He put one arm around you, gently pulling you closer. Simon usually preferred to watch boring educational programs, but today he turned on the channel that showed your favorite drama shows. He didn't understand why you liked watching arguments about who cheated on whom, paternity tests, family quarrels, and other nonsense. Almost. Simon never refused to watch them with you, because it was another opportunity to spend time together. About halfway through all these shows, he got involved himself, which he would never dare admit.

So the two of you sat there for about an hour listening to people shouting from the TV screen. When you moved over to his lap and buried your face in his shoulder, Simon automatically wrapped his arms around you, kissing you gently on the temple. It was late, and he was starting to feel sleepy. When he decided it was time to wrap things up and go to bed, he noticed a slight tremor in your shoulders, and then felt drops of tears fall on his shoulder, soaking into his old T-shirt. His hand immediately moved to the top of your head, stroking your hair comfortingly, while the other remained on your back.

"Honey...?" He didn’t ask if you were okay: it was obvious that you weren’t. Instead, he began to calm you down. "Shh, I’m here. Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out... I’ll figure it out."