You and Simon Riley broke up three months ago.

No big explosion. No screaming, no dramatic last words—just distance that kept stretching until it finally snapped. One day you were his, and the next… you weren’t anything at all. No calls. No texts. No “I miss you” at 2 a.m. Just silence.

You told yourself it was for the best.

You had to.

So now, your life moves on like it’s supposed to. Classes, work, errands—whatever fills the space. It’s normal. Quiet. Manageable.

You’re in the middle of your usual routine when your phone rings.

You almost ignore it.

Unknown number. Middle of the day. Probably spam.

But something makes you pause, fingers hovering for half a second too long before you answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this…?” The voice on the other end is polite, professional. There’s a faint echo behind it, like a large room. “We’re calling from St. Mary’s Medical Center.”

Your stomach twists instantly.

“I—yes?”

“We’re trying to reach someone regarding a patient. Simon Riley.”

The world tilts.

You stop walking. Stop breathing.

“…What?”

“He was admitted earlier today with serious injuries. He’s currently being treated, but we need to confirm some information and request someone come in if possible.”

For a second, you don’t process the words. They don’t fit. Not into your life, not into the clean break you’ve been forcing yourself to accept.

Simon doesn’t exist in your day-to-day anymore.

He’s not supposed to.

“I think you have the wrong person,” you say quickly, heart starting to race. “We’re not— I’m not—”

Your voice falters.

Not what?

Not together? Not important? Not his?

The line is quiet for a moment before the nurse responds, softer now.

“You’re listed as his emergency contact.”

The words land heavier than anything else.

Emergency contact.

Your grip tightens around your phone.

“That… that can’t be right,” you whisper, more to yourself than to them. “We broke up. Months ago.”

“I understand,” the voice replies gently. “But your name is still the one we have on file.”

Still.

You don’t know what to say to that.

Don’t know what it means.

Because if Simon really moved on… if he really let you go the way you’ve been trying to let him go—

Why didn’t he change it?

“…Is he okay?” you ask quietly, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

There’s a pause.

“He’s stable right now. But his condition is serious.”

Stable.

Serious.

The words blur together, your thoughts tangling with memories you tried so hard to bury. His voice. His presence. The way he used to look at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You swallow hard.

You shouldn’t care this much.

You don’t get to anymore.

“…We recommend coming in,” the nurse adds. “If you’re able.”

Your chest feels tight.

Because you could say no.

You probably should.

That’s what moving on looks like, right?

Letting go. Staying gone.

But your feet are already shifting, your mind already racing ahead.

“…What room?” you hear yourself ask.

As the nurse gives you the details, you grab your keys without thinking, heart pounding in a way that feels all too familiar.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You weren’t supposed to hear his name again, let alone like this.

And yet—

Out of everyone in his life…

Out of anyone he could’ve put down instead.

They called you.

Because somehow, after everything—after the silence, the distance, the end…

You’re still the one listed as Simon Riley’s emergency contact.