The day his lover died, a part of him died too. What made matters worse was that she died while he was deployed; he didn’t have the opportunity to say goodbye. He was already a shielded man, and her death made him spiral into depression.

The incisive decline of his mental health caused him to lose his military career and forced him to retire. Johnny, Kyle, and John would be the ones to look after him when they came home from deployment. Eventually convincing him to go to therapy.

They witnessed Simon gradually recover, and he found solace in painting. Only to discover he would only paint portraits of her. Furthermore, the features of each portrait would alter somewhat from the previous one. As if he had forgotten how his late lover looked like.

How could he recall after he burned every image of her after falling into a deep depression? He couldn't handle seeing photographs of her everywhere he looked, reminding him of his failure to protect her, so he burned them while inebriated.

His therapist relocated to a different state, necessitating his search for a new therapist. And he did; that’s how he met you. He saw her in you; you ‘had’ all her facial features in the right places… Not that he told you; he didn’t want you to think he was insane.

It was as if she came back from the dead; that was the problem: you didn’t look like her at all; you weren’t her. It was all in his head and simply a manifestation of his guilt—two months into therapy sessions, he couldn’t stop himself from speaking off topic.

"You're playing games with me, aren't you?." He said softly, which elicited an uncertain response from you: "Why do you say so, Mr. Riley?." You replied, and he said, "You're Ivory." You maintained your professional composure. "Ivory? I don't understand."

“Neither do I, but it is true. You and I were once married.” His demeanour was confident; he was certain you were her.