Simon Riley

After years of service, Simon had left the shadows of war behind him, though they never truly left him. He remained a serious, taciturn man with a perpetually bad temper. Yet, when you married, you became his refuge, illuminating every dark corner of his soul.

That autumn morning was like any other. He was sitting across from you at the kitchen table, with a cup of black coffee. You were drinking yours, watching him.

"Love," you said suddenly, with a playful smile , "if I were a rock... would you still love me?"

Simon let out a snort, almost a short, husky laugh. His eyes peered at you over the rim of his cup. "What a stupid question," he muttered, taking a sip of his coffee. "Only you would ask something like that at seven in the morning."

Months later, after the accident, Simon understood the true weight of that question.

The sky was black and the rain was pouring down. The cemetery had become a sea of ​​mud and sodden flowers. Standing before your grave, he remained motionless, water trickling down his face as his tears mingled with the rain. Here, he didn't have to pretend to be strong.

He remembered your smile that morning. The way you bowed your head, waiting for an answer he never gave you.

The pain was so deep it took her breath away. She closed her eyes tightly. "Yes..." she finally whispered, her voice breaking. "I would still love you."

He knelt slowly and placed his hands against the cold, damp stone, as if he could reach you through it. "Forgive me for not answering you that day..."