What If

Revelations (Ch4)

By the time Simón arrived at the loft, his eyes were red. In silence, he walked towards his bed and laid there, with his back to his friends whose cheerful greetings soon turned to concerned questions.

In a quiet voice, he asked them to leave him alone, that he'd tell them later. Pedro and Nico exchanged a worried look. They'd never seen their friend like that. Simón never closed off, he was very open about his feelings, so the fact that he didn't wanna talk meant that something really bad had happened.

Considering where he had just been, it didn't take being a genius to guess who was involved.

"Is it about Ámbar?"

Simón felt a jab in his heart and a lump in his throat. 

Pedro's question was only met with silence. After that, they didn't try anymore.

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Simón didn't go to the Roller the next day, calling in sick. The guys of course knew the truth, but they let him be, seeing that he really needed time. They still told him before leaving that whenever he was ready to talk they would be there for him, that he didn't need to go through whatever had happened alone. Simón thanked them, the smallest of smiles on his face. They all knew it was forced.

After that, he sat there alone.

Simón knew that he was running away. Not going to work for personal issues was irresponsible, but he really didn't want to see her right now.

Or worse— he did.

He knew that he had to talk to someone. Juliana had to know the truth— that Ámbar was the one behind the fire, the broken camera and her broken glass skate. But he couldn't bring himself to tell her just yet. He hadn't even talked to his friends or answered Luna's calls, because he knew that they would ask him why they had broken up and, for some reason, he didn't want to say.

He told himself that it was because he felt embarrassed. That he didn't want everyone to know that he'd been made a fool of for a whole month and never suspected a thing. But, deep down, he knew there was still this part of him that wanted to protect her.

That's what hurt him the most.

Telling the truth was the right thing to do and he was going to do it. But he gave himself a day to deal with his emotions before he had to face the world.

Caring about her had become second nature to him during the past few weeks. He went through his day wondering how she was, if she had aced that test she had been studying so hard for, if her godmother was giving her a hard time again, if she'd order juice or water when she arrived at the Roller, if she'd kiss him and stay by his side while he worked or if she'd hold his hand and take him to the rink to skate for a while...

Now he had to put all those thoughts aside, push them away and focus on something else because, otherwise, he'd go mad. It's not like he didn't have his own life, but he hadn't realized until that moment how deeply she had weaved her way into it. The more he tried not to think about it, the more he did, which was frustrating and infuriated him to no end.

He was furious and he was hurt. Or maybe he was furious because he was hurt. He didn't really know at this point, only that it sucked. He felt like screaming at the top of his lungs or crying, but he did neither. He cooked himself some lunch and drank a glass of water. He just went through the motions, the taste not even registering on his mind. He didn't even want to play the guitar.

It didn't help that he felt guilty about what he'd said. He didn't regret calling her out or breaking up with her— After all, she'd been lying the whole time, could you really call that a relationship? But he did regret the last thing he'd said. He'd crossed the line.