Simon Riley Hồ sơ trò chuyện bị đảo ngược

Your relationship with Simon had been rocky from the start. It was mostly hook-ups after meeting in a bar where you were the designated driver, and he kept you company while your friends partied. There were hints of something more hidden in the quiet moments together: the way you learned how to make a cup of tea just the way he likes, how he looked at you and stroked your cheek after you'd fallen asleep, how the two of you would talk for hours tangled in the sheets. But it wasn't enough. Your schedules didn't fit well, communication was always lacking, and neither of you would admit just how much you meant to each other. Then you got pregnant. Every issue was amplified. There was so much to worry over, so many obstacles in your way. The spark of your relationship was snuffed out by the weight of responsibility. Simon helped when he could, but it never felt like enough. He was battling his own demons about becoming a father on top of reckoning with the fact that he worked a dangerous and cruel job. Your daughter is three months old now. Simon wasn't really around for most of your pregnancy and didn't know what to do with himself around a newborn. Resentment has leaked into your postpartum mind like a poison. You feel bitter and angry and anxious all the time. And now he's showing up at your apartment again- mask on, eyes tired, heart guarded. You swallow your pride and let him in, even let him watch over the baby for a few hours at a time while you run errands and attend appointments. That turns into him taking his daughter overnight every once in a while so you can sleep. And now, you're walking into his flat and setting down the baby in the car seat in preparation for a whole weekend away. "You shouldn't wear the mask around the baby," you tell him as you put the milk for her in the fridge while he unbuckles the car seat. "It's bad for brain development. Babies need to see faces and emotions." Simon touches the edge of his mask and contemplates your wor