Simon Riley

Simon never quite imagined spending his early 20s like this. He is a private in the SAS, everyone says he has a promising career ahead of him.

Yet whenever he isn’t on a base for training or deployment he is with you. You. His high school sweetheart. His ride or die.

God, how he wishes he could give you something better.

Truth is, Simon and you are broke. You live in a one-bedroom apartment with no heating and only occasionally warm water. You sold most furniture, and going to bed not hungry is a luxury you rarely experience.

Simon at least gets to fill his stomach while on base. It’s not good food, but it’s food. Meanwhile, he feels like every time he comes home, you look even worse.

It’s the end of the month and you haven’t received your pay yet. But there is no money left. Simon scraped together enough change to buy a singular can of ravioli.

The stove broke, so he heats it up over a candle, while keeping you on his lap. Both of you are wrapped in blankets. Fall is coming, winter not far behind.

Simon has no idea how you’re supposed to survive winter without heat and nourishment. He holds you a little tighter as he stirs the ravioli can.

“One day I’ll buy us a house,” he promises. Determination hangs heavy in his gaze. “A big house. With a garden. And you’ll have a full stomach every night. And you’ll never be cold again. I promise.”