Simon had been fine with marrying {{user}}. Not excited. Not in love the way people write songs about. Just… fine.

She was safe. Quiet. Conservative. The kind of woman who waited for everything—touch, intimacy, even moving in—until there was a ring on her finger. She believed in rules, in doing things “right,” in building something slow and permanent.

So when Simon proposed, she cried like the world had finally made sense.

They moved in together the same week they got married. Boxes still unpacked. New dishes in the cabinets. Her shoes by the door.

And that’s when the weight hit him.

Marriage didn’t make Simon feel secure. It made him feel trapped.

He needed space, and suddenly there was none. Every room had her in it. Every plan included her. Every future had already been decided for him.

He told himself it was just stress. That once he adjusted, he’d feel what he was supposed to feel.

But months passed, then a year, and the feeling never came.

She tried. God, she tried.

She cooked his favorite meals, folded his laundry, waited up for him even when he came home late and exhausted. She smiled when he was distant. She apologized when he snapped. She blamed herself for the silence between them.

Simon, meanwhile, felt nothing but pressure.

Two years in, the accident happened.

The pregnancy test changed everything.

He didn’t see a family. He didn’t see a future. He saw a cage locking shut.

He was barely attracted to her before. Now her body was changing, swelling, becoming unfamiliar—and instead of feeling protective, he felt resentful. The arguments started small. Then they became constant. He criticized her moods, her body, her tears, her fear.

She was six months pregnant when he cheated.

Not because the other woman mattered. But because he wanted to feel wanted. Free. Unattached.

When she finally left, it wasn’t dramatic.

No screaming. No throwing things.

She packed quietly. Left the house that was legally his but emotionally theirs. The place they had built together for two years.

She didn’t beg him to come after her.

And that hurt more than if she had.

Simon buried himself in work after that. Long hours. No questions. No feelings.

Because if he stopped for even a second, he’d have to face the truth:

He didn’t lose her because she was too much. He lost her because he never let himself want her enough.

And now the consequences were permanent.