Always You || Simon Minter (miniminter)

Chapter 20

"Millie!"

Tears threatened to spill as my stomach twisted with the worst-case scenario. He had moved on. He didn't want me anymore.

The girl from Simon's room stepped aside, and then he appeared in the doorway. My chest tightened at the sight of him—tall, familiar, but somehow different. A small smile lingered on his lips at first, but it faded the moment our eyes met. He opened his mouth to speak, but I raised a hand, cutting him off. I didn't want to hear anything—not now, not yet.

"It's... nice to see you, Simon," I said softly, my voice almost shaking. Without waiting for a reply, I turned and walked toward my room. The hallway seemed impossibly long, the thumping music from the party downstairs fading behind me. I didn't hear him follow, and a hollow part of me realized he hadn't.

I slammed my bedroom door shut, the sound swallowed by the bass of the music. Of course this would happen. Why hadn't I stayed in touch with him more? Why hadn't I called, or FaceTimed, or even sent a simple text?

No. Wait. He should have reached out. He should have checked in while I was selling my apartment, moving my entire life to a new city. He hadn't. So fuck him.

The anger bubbled up inside me, hot and bitter. I couldn't go back downstairs and pretend everything was fine. Not tonight. I locked the door, sank into my chair at my desk, and put on headphones, letting the music drown out the chaos of the party below.

My heart was still pounding, my thoughts a jumble of what-ifs. I tried to distract myself with a game, but even that offered only temporary relief.

⸻

"No! No! Don't hook me, you bastard!" I yelled as my character was grabbed, thrown onto a hook, and killed. I flung the controller aside, ripped off my headphones, and froze. The music—louder now without the game to drown it out—reminded me that the party was still raging. I checked the time: 2:35 a.m. Why was I even awake?

My phone buzzed. A string of messages from Jide:

From Jide
01:20 - Millie, where did you go?
01:45 - Amelia, where are you? Your car's still here.
02:00 - Harry tried to see if you're okay. Your door was locked. Please come out.
02:30 - C'mon Millie :(

Maybe I should go downstairs. I pulled on a hoodie—anything, not a Sidemen one—and unlocked my door. The music and chatter were quieter here, but still there. I glanced at Simon's open door. He wasn't there.

I made my way down, weaving past the drunken clusters of people. Most of the boys were scattered: Ethan could barely stand, Vikk was giggling at something Tobi had said, and Jide was waiting, arms crossed, a serious frown on his face.

"Where did you go?" he asked quietly.

"I... I was in my room," I admitted, looking at the floor. "I didn't feel like partying. I'm sorry."

He nudged my shoulder and tilted his head toward the stairs. I followed his gaze.

The girl from Simon's room was walking down, her expression stormy. Behind her, Simon followed. She shouted something I didn't catch, then stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Simon stopped mid-step, his shoulders tense, eyes searching. My instinct was to rush forward, to wrap him up and tell him it was okay—but I couldn't. Not yet.

Our eyes met. I froze. There was pain in his gaze, a vulnerability I rarely saw. He looked down, then—before I could react—he ran upstairs toward his room.

"What the fuck was that?" Tobi muttered. Everyone else just stared, equally confused.

"Maybe you should check on him?" Ethan suggested.

I hesitated, my stomach tight. My legs felt heavy, my thoughts tangled. But Jide's serious look pushed me forward. Nodding, I made my way upstairs, each step heavier than the last.

I reached his door and paused, hand hovering over the handle. Fear knotted in my chest. What would he say? What had happened between them? I didn't want to know, but I needed to.

I knocked softly. A minute passed. Then again. Footsteps approached.

The door opened, and there he was—Simon, pale, his usual bright eyes dulled, sadness etched across his face. Without thinking, I closed the distance, wrapping my arms around his waist. He responded immediately, holding my shoulders, letting us stand there in the quiet, tangled in each other.

"I... I missed you," I whispered, burying my face in his chest. My heart still ached at his silence over the past weeks, but in this moment, none of that mattered.

"Millie... I'm so sorry," he murmured into my hair, nuzzling closer.

I drew back slightly to look at him. "Listen, Simon... it's alright. I understand. We weren't... a thing. You had every right to see someone else." The words were bitter and soft all at once, but true.

He pulled back a little, giving me a weak smile. "Thank you... for understanding. Her name's Emily."

I blinked at him, the name Emily hanging in the air like a weight. My chest tightened, and for a moment, I couldn't speak.

"And... you were seeing her while—" I stopped myself, swallowing down the frustration building inside me. I didn't want the details. I didn't want to know what happened. All I wanted was to feel some sort of clarity.

Simon ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. "I didn't mean for you to find out like this. I didn't—"

"No, Simon," I interrupted, my voice sharper than I intended. "I don't want explanations. I want honesty. You didn't check in with me. Not a message, not a call. Not once. And now... you're here, telling me about her."

His eyes softened, and for a second I thought he might apologize again, but instead, he stayed silent, letting my words hang in the air.

"I'm angry," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm hurt. And I don't know if I can just... go back to normal with you after this."

"I know," he murmured, taking a tentative step closer. "And you don't have to. I get it. I can't erase what I did—or didn't do—but I need you to know... I still like you. I've never stopped liking you, Millie. You're the one I want, even with... everything else."

The words made my stomach twist. I wanted to throw myself at him, to cling to him and pretend none of it mattered. But I couldn't. I had to protect myself too.

"I... I don't know if I can do this, Simon," I said softly, taking a step back. "I like you, I really do, but it's complicated. I don't even know where I stand with you. And now... there's her."

He flinched but didn't argue. "Emily's part of my life right now. That doesn't change how I feel about you. You're... different. Important. I'm telling you because I can't keep it from you, not anymore."

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my ears. "Different doesn't make it easier. You can't expect me to just... be okay with this. I... I don't even know what I want right now."

Simon's expression softened, a mix of regret and longing. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before letting his hand hover near mine. "I'm not asking for forgiveness. I'm not asking for anything. I just... needed you to know."

I nodded slowly, uncertain, my heart caught somewhere between anger and longing. "Fine," I said, my voice tight. "But don't expect me to be... okay with her. Not yet. Not for a long time."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he whispered, his voice low, almost a vow.

For a moment, we just stood there, the silence stretching between us. I wanted to push him away and I wanted to pull him close all at once. I wanted to hate him and forgive him at the same time.

"Go on," he said softly, gesturing toward the door. "Go back to your room. We'll figure this out... somehow."

I gave a small, bitter smile, my stomach still twisting. "Yeah... somehow," I echoed, turning and walking away. My chest ached, my mind raced, and for the first time in weeks, I realized that this wasn't going to be easy. Not with Emily, not with Simon, and not with myself.