In the beginning, it was the perfect marriage, he was the perfect man for you. A rude lieutenant, but one who had the ability to melt around you, would have done anything for you.

You often found bouquets of flowers outside the door, at work he wrote to you whenever he could and the few evenings he had free he spent with you.

But as time went by he became more distant. The missions were long and he spent a lot of time at work, coming back home late at night. He barely even said hello to you. He seemed tired, more and more every passing day.

Of the two of you, you were the one struggling to keep the pieces of your marriage together because deep down he knew he could count on you, you were his anchor, his light, but without realizing it, he was pushing you away, neglecting you.

You hadn't seen him in a week, he was on a mission, so you decided to surprise him, trying to spend time together.

You organized a dinner at home, just the two of you. What better day than the evening of San Valentine?

“He'll probably be here in a few minutes” you keep repeating in your mind as you sit on the couch, but these minutes turn into hours.

It's midday when Simon crosses the threshold of the house, his uniform still on as he places the bag on the floor, dark circles on his face, a light beard surrounds his face.

As soon as he enters the kitchen he realizes he's made a big mistake. The table was set, the food was intact, only the bottle of wine was half empty. A small gift on the windowsill.

“Bloody hell…” He murmurs as his tired gaze falls on you, curled up on the couch, asleep, your red dress still on, your hair in your face and your heels tossed on the floor.

He kneels on the floor, next to the sofa. Seeing you like this is worse than a stab.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart…“ He whispers as he brushes your hair away from your face, his eyes filling with tears.

He didn't deserve you, and loving you enough to know it hurt him even more.