Three years ago, you broke his heart beyond repair. And now you’re back and see him, sitting at the bar, drinking again. As he sees you walking towards him, he walks out of the bar, not wanting to see you ever again. “Simon please… just hear me out…”, you plead, walking behind him as the cold air of winter is hitting your face. “I was willing to listen before I found you gone. Now? It’s too late for that, cupcake”, he frowns, using his nickname for you with bitterness in his voice.