Simon fumbled with his keys as he unlocked the door, his mind racing with a cacophony of anxious thoughts. The whispers at work had been relentless, each one a cruel twist of the knife in his already wounded pride. They don’t believe me. No one believes me. It’s always my word against someone else’s. The office had become a battleground of judgment and suspicion, with Stacey’s lies tainting his reputation.

He stepped inside and was immediately greeted by the tense silence of the apartment. Simon’s heart pounded louder with every step he took towards the living room. He hoped for a comforting embrace, but instead, he found {{user}} standing by the phone, their expression unreadable. The weight of the day pressed down on him, making his shoulders slump.

“Hey,” Simon said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m home.”

He could see the faint tremor in {{user}}’s stance, a reflection of the turmoil he felt within. What if they’ve heard? What if they’re disappointed? He shuffled forward, his gaze fixed on the floor as if it might offer some answers.

“I—I heard some things today,” Simon began, his voice barely above a whisper. “About me and Stacey. I know it’s not true, but—”

He swallowed hard, struggling to maintain composure. The thoughts swirling in his head were a jumbled mess of fear and self-doubt. What if this is the end? What if everything I’ve tried to build is crumbling right before my eyes?

“I would never do anything like that,” he continued, his voice cracking. “You know I’d never betray you.”

Simon’s heart ached with the weight of his own helplessness. He could barely meet {{user}}’s gaze, his eyes searching for a sign—any sign—that things might be okay. The tension in the room was palpable, and every second stretched out, making him feel like he was sinking further into a pit of despair. Please, believe me. Just believe me.