Chapter Text
Simon will never forget the day Wilma was born. She entered the world with a cry so big that it filled his heart with more love than he thought was humanly possible. It hadn’t exactly been his plan to have a daughter at 24. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense to him. It was like his heart was missing something when he finished his degree in political science from Stockholm University. Apparently that part was Wilma.
That hadn’t been his plan either – to study politics. He was going to study music, maybe become something – something big. But going through every possible college, researching courses, political science caught his attention more than once. And he hadn’t regretted it at all. He loved his job as a media analyst, sometimes doing journalism and digital media work too. It was perfect. After Wilma was born, working anything other than mostly daytime hours was impossible anyway.
Simon wouldn’t have it any other way.
When Rosh married Melissa at 22, Simon thought she was crazy. Who gets married at 22? But Rosh had been so sure, and Simon stood there as the best man, watching as his best friend got married to the love of her life. It stung, he had to admit that. Not because of the marriage itself, but because he didn’t have anyone – not anymore. And even though he was happy for her, loved Melissa too, it still felt like a part of his heart was missing.
When they started talking about wanting kids, it was like something inside Simon clicked. He wasn’t exactly sure what, but it was like a pull towards something he didn’t know he wanted. He had always thought he would have kids one day, just not as a single dad at 24. But still, it felt right. Rosh had looked at him like he was crazy the day he talked to her about how they could share custody. But it made total sense to him. “Think about it, Rosh. You are kind of missing one key ingredient here,” he said with more hope in his voice than he planned on. “And I happened to have that.”
“Are you serious, Simme?” Rosh asked, still not convinced. He knew she might be scared he was doing it out of impulse, but he wasn’t.
“I’ve thought about it. And I really want this. I’m totally serious here. What do you think, Melissa?” he turned to Melissa and saw that she was grinning from ear to ear like it was the best idea she’d ever heard. It settled something in him, a calm that this could really work out.
Rosh looked over at her wife with eyes widened. “Rosh, baby,” Melissa started and walked over to where Rosh and Simon were sitting. “We do miss that ingredient. And to share custody will give all of us freedom and the one thing we really want. This kid will have three parents who love them so much.” She looked at Rosh, and Simon could see it happening in front of his eyes. Rosh didn’t have a comeback.
“I have one question, Simon. Before I agree to this,” Rosh said, and her voice turned serious. She looked him straight in the eyes, and Simon’s heart suddenly beat faster. “Is this you doing something reckless because you need to make yourself not think about Wille? A kid is a lifelong commitment.”
The question threw him a little off. It had been three years since he broke up with Wille. And it had been hard. But he assured her that this was about him. His wishes, his life. It had nothing to do with Wilhelm Lindgren.
So about 14 months after that conversation, Simon sat at the hospital holding his daughter in his arms. Already as a newborn, she had beautiful, black hair. Her nose scrunched in her sleep. Her small fingers wrapped around Simon’s. He was in love. And when she opened her eyes and looked up at him like he was the only person in the world, just a few hours old, her big brown eyes shining. It was like she telepathically placed her own name in his mind. “Wilma,” he said out loud without even realizing it, eyes locked on the sweetest little creature he’d ever seen.
Simon hadn’t thought about it at the time. But it was more than just a name. Wilma was Warm-hearted, Interested, Loving, Mature and Ambitious. It fit her perfectly.
“What?” Rosh’s voice came quietly from next to the bed where Melissa was sleeping after giving birth, or at least they thought she was sleeping. Simon tore his eyes away from the little sweetheart in his arms and looked over at Rosh.
“I’m sorry. I know we haven’t talked about it,” he started, suddenly realizing that it wasn't just his daughter. She had two mothers too, who should probably be allowed to join in on the naming of their child. “I just thought…” but Simon didn’t get to finish what he was going to say. Because Melissa opened her eyes and smiled at him.
“Wilma is perfect,” she said. Rosh stared at him. She didn’t say anything. He hadn’t thought about that at the time either, how close to someone else’s name it was. It was just something about the little girl that made total sense to call her Wilma. He couldn’t say it hadn’t crossed his mind once or twice over the last nine years. But it didn’t really mean anything anyway.
After Wilma was born, it was like his life suddenly had meaning again. And the last nine years might’ve been the best ones of his life. Wilma was smart, beautiful, caring and sweet. She walked before she was a year old, she spoke so clearly before everyone else in kindergarten. And when she started school, she got some assignments that were more challenging than the rest.
But she wasn’t just smart, she saw people. She always made sure everyone was okay and taken care of. Simon loved her with all his heart, and he’s never regretted the decision to have a kid at 24.
“Papá, I found this in your closet. Who is this?” Wilma asks now as she walks into the kitchen where Simon is making dinner. Simon looks at her with as much interest as he can muster. Wilma is way too smart for her age, so it can really be anything that she finds interesting. And he really wants her to keep being fascinated by everything around her, so he makes sure to show her he’s interested too.
When his eyes land on what she holds in her hands, his breath hitches for a second. He’d forgotten that he even had this. “That’s a photo album from when I was younger,” Simon says, and he can hear how his voice wavers. He walks over to her, and slowly slides his hand over the cover. He knows what’s inside – but he doesn’t expect his heart to clench in his chest when he opens it and sees the first picture.
The last time he saw this was approximately ten years ago, when he moved into this apartment. He hadn’t had it in him to throw it away. It was from a part of his life he had mixed feelings about. It gave him both happiness and sadness. Some days he wishes he could go back there, to a time when he felt so loved.
A familiar kind of longing creeps up his spine and settles in his chest. A longing he’s fought against time and time again. “Papá?” Wilma says carefully, like she’s afraid she might scare him.
“Yeah, sorry,” Simon says with a smile, and gives a small shake of his head. “That’s Wilhelm. My high school boyfriend.”
Simon forces his eyes away from the picture and looks at his daughter. She stares at the album for a few seconds, a small furrow between her brows and her nose scrunches. It’s the look she keeps on her face when she’s really thinking about something. So Simon waits for her to speak. “How come you haven’t had any boyfriends after I was born?” she asks after a while, and meets his eyes.
The question throws him a little off. He’s spent the past nine years taking care of her, and he hasn’t regretted it one second. He’s been on a few dates here and there, but nothing has ever become anything more. Every time there’s something that stops him, something that feels wrong somehow. He always finds some small thing about every guy that leads to him not wanting to introduce them to Wilma.
“No lo sé, cariño (I don’t know, darling). I just haven’t found anyone, I guess,” he says. But something in him feels off. The album in his hands feels heavier all of a sudden, and he looks down on it. No, that part of his life is over. He looks at Wilma with a smile. “Not everyone can be as lucky as mommy and mom and find the one they want to spend the rest of their life with at 21. And I have you, I don’t need anyone else.” He wraps her in his arms and she presses her face in his chest. When she pulls back, there’s still something on her face that makes him believe she wants to ask more. “Qué es, mi amor? (What is it, my love)”
Wilma takes another minute before she speaks. “Is it because of me?” Her eyes search his face, flicker between his eyes. There’s a sting in his chest. Suddenly he feels desperate to make sure she knows it’s not her fault. Simon places the album on the counter and crouches down next to her.
“It’s absolutely not because of you, Wilma. You’re the sunshine of my life, and sometimes you are too smart for your own good,” he smiles and a small laugh escapes his throat. Wilma’s face turns into a smile too. “Like I said, I just haven’t found anyone I want to spend my life with. But I’m only 33, there’s still time, you know. No soy tan viejo (I’m not that old).” He winks at her and she starts to laugh. The furrow between her brows is gone, and Simon relaxes.
“Sometimes it feels like it,” she jokes, and Simon’s mouth falls open playfully. Wilma laughs and runs into the living room when he tries to grab her. Her laughter sounds in the whole apartment, and it fills Simon with a warmth every time.
He runs after her, chases her around the living room before he catches her and tickles her until she begs him to stop. “I couldn’t have done that if I was almost dead, you know,” he teases. And she shakes her head at him. Sometimes it feels like she’s so much older than nine years old. “Oh, the dinner,” Simon suddenly exclaims when he remembers what he was actually doing when she came with the album. He gets up from the floor and walks into the kitchen with quick steps – relieved when he sees it hasn’t been burned.
“How long until it’s done? Can I look through the photos until dinner?” Wilma asks when she comes back into the kitchen. Simon nods at her and she takes the album with her into the living room.
Simon hasn’t really thought about Wilhelm in a while. But he sneaks into his thoughts on occasion. They broke up thirteen years ago. For weeks before it happened Simon woke up every day wishing and hoping that the feeling would be gone. The feeling of growing apart, of adulthood creeping in and tearing them from each other. He kept fighting it, like a fever. But in the end, it was no use in holding it back. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it still felt like the only option. They both knew it.
He hasn’t seen Wille in twelve years, and he’s not sure if that one time after the breakup even counts. He saw him during the summer the year after, but Simon didn’t have it in him to walk up to him. He lingered in the shadows, made sure to stay as far away as possible while still being able to see him. It wasn’t that Simon didn’t want to talk to him; it was just that he wasn’t sure if he was able to without breaking down.
It had been a year, and still Simon wasn’t over him. Wille had been laughing together with his friends. He looked so at peace, as if he didn’t have a worry in the world, while Simon still longed for the guy. A part of him wanted to go over and talk to him – so bad. But in the end, he hadn’t. Instead, he was happy that there were many people in the park so he could easily blend in with the crowd.
And he hasn’t seen Wilhelm since.
He has to admit he’s checked out his social media here and there. Mostly just to see what he’s up to. The thing is, Wilhelm isn’t one to really update too much about his life online. The only thing Simon knows is that he works as a psychiatrist, which he’s not really surprised about. That he has a dog named Balder and that he likes to travel with a bunch of different people. That’s usually what he posts about anyway.
Wilhelm had moved to Lund to study psychology at the university there. Simon doesn’t know if he still lives in Lund, if he has a partner or what he’s really up to. He hoped they would be able to stay in touch after they broke up, but college, over six hours apart, made that difficult.
And frankly, he tells himself he’s not sure why he wants to know either. But Wilhelm was his first ever boyfriend. And sadly enough, he’s the only one who’s ever lasted longer than a few months. So maybe it’s not so strange that he thinks about him from time to time.
Simon finishes the dinner and sets the table before he calls Wilma to come and eat. “Did he hurt you?” Wilma asks when she sits down. It takes Simon a second to realize she's talking about Wille.
“No, absolutely not. Wilhelm was a great guy,” he says with a smile and places the casserole on the table. The best even, his brain adds, and Simon takes a deep breath when he turns around to get the glasses from the counter. When he turns back Wilma has already placed some food on her plate and shuffles it into her mouth.
“Will you tell me about the pictures in the album, papá?” Wilma asks when they’ve eaten in silence for a few minutes. “You’ve never told me too much about the years before I was born.” Wilma slides another bite into her mouth and chews while she stares at him. Like she can make him tell her if she stares hard enough at him.
Simon thinks for a moment. “Claro, mija, (Sure, honey)” he says with a small nod of his head. “I haven’t looked through the album in many years, it might be nice. But not today – Tía Sara comes over in half an hour, remember?” He’s very happy Sara chose to be so involved in Wilma’s life too. She would force him to go out just so she could stay at home with Wilma alone, claiming they needed girls’ time. “We can start going through it tomorrow, if you want.”
Wilma smiles and says she would really like that before they finish the food and start to clean up, just as Sara walks through the door. “Tía!” Wilma squeals and pulls Sara with her into the living room. He can hear them talk and he smiles to himself as he puts the last plate in the dishwasher.
“Hey, how are you?” Sara asks as she leans against the doorframe. He startles a little when he doesn’t hear her coming.
Simon turns to look at her, and she’s way too easy to read. He knows she’s a little concerned as well – that he hasn’t been in a long-term relationship since Wilma was born. And he has a hunch that she doesn’t just come over to babysit because she wants girls’ time with Wilma. “I’m good, you?” he asks a little nonchalantly. They’ve talked about his non-existent love life too many times.
Sara shrugs her shoulders and then she just looks at him. He sends her a “what” look and she rolls her eyes at him. “Get a move on, I’m sure Ayub is waiting,” she says a little annoyed, but her eyes give her away. So he flips her off jokingly before he walks into the bathroom to get ready. He looks forward to seeing Ayub, but he doesn’t really feel like going out if he’s being honest. Maybe he mostly does it so his friends and Sara will stop worrying.
“Okay, I won’t be late. But you’d better be asleep when I get back,” he says and kisses Wilma’s head when he’s changed and ready. Wilma smiles and nods before she goes back to what she was talking about with Sara. Simon stops by the door for a second and just looks at them. Wilma smiles and talks, moving her hands in front of her, and Sara listens, throws in a comment here and there when she gets the chance. Simon smiles too before he walks out.
Ayub is already sitting and waiting for him at the bar. They always go to the same place around the corner from Simon’s apartment. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t met anyone either. There are probably hundreds of bars and clubs in Stockholm, but they stick to the same one. He greets the bouncer as he walks in, and takes time to have a small polite conversation. They were on a first name basis after all. When Ayub spots him and waves, he excuses himself and walks over. There are not too many people here tonight, the music isn’t too loud, so Simon walks over quickly and sits down next to Ayub.
“Hey man, what’s on your mind?” Ayub asks when Simon sits down next to him. Simon looks at him confused, having no clue what Ayub is talking about. He wasn’t thinking about anything special – just replaying his conversation with Wilma. “You look a little distant.”
“I’m not,” Simon says with a shrug, feeling a little defensive. He orders a ginger ale from the bartender before he looks back at Ayub. Ayub studies him, like he needs to be sure he’s telling the truth. “What the hell, man? I was just thinking about something Wilma asked me earlier. It’s nothing.” His voice comes out a little whiny, and he takes a sip of his ginger ale after thanking the bartender.
Ayub holds his beer up and they clink their bottles together. “What did she ask you?” Ayub pushes on, and Simon wonders what his face actually looks like. But he decides to tell him anyway. How Wilma had found the photo album and wanted him to tell her about it and about Wilhelm.
“Ahh, so that’s who’s on your mind,” Ayub says with a smirk and Simon fights the urge to actually punch him. And hates, a little, how easily Ayub had discovered the truth. Both Ayub and Rosh used to tease him about Wilhelm for years after they broke up, but it has been thirteen years. Simon tells himself he’s been over him for a long time. And he means it.
“Seriously, it’s not so strange she asks. Have you met anyone more willing to learn everything in your life?” Simon asks with a laugh, hoping he’s able to steer the conversation over on Wilma instead of Wille. But there’s a tiny, unwelcome tingle in his stomach when he thinks about him.
At 16, Simon thought he’d found the love of his life. And maybe he had – he just hadn’t known yet that first loves didn’t last forever. He was young, stupid and in love. It only made sense. He will find it again someday, probably not while sitting here at the bar talking to his friend. But love happens when it happens, right? Usually when you don’t expect it too. At least that’s what he believes, it’s what he lives by at this point.
“You have a point,” Ayub laughs. “How is she? I need to stop by soon. Haven’t seen her in a few weeks.” Simon smiles and tells his friend about Wilma’s last accomplishments, happy that Ayub lets it go so easily.
When he comes back to the apartment a few hours later, Sara just sits and scrolls on her phone. The apartment is quiet, meaning that Wilma is probably asleep. “Hey, did it go okay?” Simon asks, and drops down on the couch next to Sara.
“Yeah, she’s the sweetest,” Sara says, and locks her phone. “She told me about the album. Are you okay with that?”
Simon just stares at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Simon, you were a mess. I know you guys agreed on the breakup, but I saw you. I was there with you for days. You haven’t exactly talked about it much since.”
He might’ve been a mess back then. Yes, the breakup was a mutual decision, but it didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt. He had missed Wille so much, he thought his heart would never be able to stitch itself back together. It was a dark period of his life, he had to admit that.
“Sara, it’s been thirteen years,” he says, and sends her a deadpan look. “I think I can tell my daughter a few memories from back then without falling apart.”
Sara looks at him, a little concerned, but apparently, she decides to let it go. They chat for another hour before she leaves, and Simon gets ready for bed too. He walks into Wilma’s room and just watches her sleep for a few minutes. It’s one of his favorite things, to just look at her peaceful face. No pain. No worries. He kisses her forehead carefully and tucks the covers tighter around her. She smiles in her sleep, scrunches her nose in that adorable way she has always done, and Simon smiles to himself as he walks into his own bedroom.
He lies down on his bed, scrolls on his phone for a few minutes before he locks it, and closes his eyes. But sleep doesn’t find him. It’s been a long while since he’d lain awake because of Wille. But tonight Sara’s words won’t leave him alone. They echo in his mind like a cricket in the summer. He had been a mess after the breakup, it isn’t a lie at all. Even after thirteen years, he still remembers the phone call like it was yesterday.
It was like a part of him knew even before he picked up the call back then. Even though he loved Wille with all his heart, the long distance was too hard at 20 years old. College took up too much time, and they were young. He had thought about it to the extent that his brain was mentally drained. Still, his heart ached painfully when he picked up. Simon stared up at the ceiling, tried to fight the feelings. But deep down he knew it wasn’t like it used to be anymore. “Hey, sunshine,” Wille’s voice came through the phone when Simon didn’t say anything right away, but there was something heavy in his voice too.
“Hey, Bebè,” Simon answered with a small sigh. Even if a part of him felt where this conversation was going before it even started, he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face when he heard Wille’s voice. “How are you? How did your exam go?” he continued, mostly to delay the inevitable.
Wille took a breath on the other end, like he was bracing himself. “I’m okay, I think. And the exam went well, still waiting for the results.” Simon could hear how Wille’s breathing grew a little shallow, small sniffles sounded through the unbearable silence. He wasn’t sure if he was waiting because he needed Wille to say it, or if he just physically couldn’t utter the words himself. “I…ehhh…I don’t know how to…” Wille started again, so quiet that Simon barely heard him.
His stomach gave an uncomfortable twist, and a tear rolled down his cheek. Simon took a deep shaky breath and closed his eyes. His bedroom was completely silent, his bed felt like stone. Everything was too heavy, too hard. “I know,” he managed to whisper eventually. He could hear Wille’s breath catch on the other end.
“I don’t know what to say, Simon. It’s just…too hard. And I’m going to be here for four more years. I love you, more than I ever thought I could. But I’m not sure it…” Wille’s voice trailed off.
More tears found their way down Simon’s cheeks. “If it’s enough,” he finished Wille’s sentence. His throat tightened and he had to press his fingernails into the palm of his free hand to be able to speak at all. “I know, Wille. I love you too, so damn much. But I’ve seen you twice in eight months, and we can go days without speaking now. I don’t know how to make this work.” The words were like needles in his chest, and still he spoke them – pressed them out as if it was what they both needed. And in a way, maybe it was.
“If this is right, why does it hurt so bad?” Wille said with a trembling voice. More sniffles came from his end of the line, and Simon knew he was crying too. He wanted to crawl through the phone, wrap Wille in his arms and keep him there forever. He thought they would be strong enough to survive. But apparently, they weren’t. Or maybe this was them being stronger. Maybe staying together when they both knew it was too hard was the weakness.
“Because it was real,” he said after making sure his voice wouldn’t break. “What we’ve shared over the last four years, what we feel, is real. And you’ll always have a special place in my heart.”
He knew it was love. He knew it was real. But still it wasn’t strong enough to keep them together. Because when it kills you to stay and it kills you to leave, letting go of the one you love might be the only way.
A sob escaped Wille’s throat, and Simon couldn’t contain his emotions anymore either. The tears rolled in big drops down his cheeks, a few small sobs left his chest, breaking his heart in a million pieces. “I’ll miss you so much,” Wille said eventually.
“I’ll miss you too.” Simon lay down on the bed. He pulled the covers tighter around him, like a cocoon he hoped would help him contain some kind of reason for all this. “Will you stay on the line? Just for this night?”
Shuffling came through the phone, and he knew Wille was trying to make himself comfortable too. “Yeah, I would like that,” he said, and then it was just silence. Simon lay there, just listening to Wille’s trembling breathing through the phone – his own breathing wasn’t coming any steadier. He didn’t know for how long they stayed like that – didn’t know if Wille was already asleep. When Wille’s small voice suddenly came like a whisper, Simon wrapped the words up and placed them inside his soul to be sure they would stay there forever. “I love you, Simon.”
He didn’t say it back that time. For the first time since they said “I love you,” Simon didn’t say it back. Not because he didn’t want to or because the words didn’t play on his tongue. But because he didn’t trust himself to open his mouth. Because he was scared that if he did, he would take everything back. Beg Wille to stay. And that wouldn’t have been right.
So Simon cried himself to sleep as quietly as he could. And even if he wanted to. Even if his heart, his mind, his fingers ached for him to stay in touch with Wille. He didn’t.
The problem was that even if he’d really tried, told himself time and time again that it wasn’t a problem, he couldn’t help it. He compared every guy he’s dated over the last thirteen years to Wille. And none of them could live up to him. He didn’t exactly do it consciously, he didn’t look for flaws or whatever that would make Wille better. It just happened. So it was easier to stop dating at all, to blame it on being a single dad instead. That usually made them run away, and it made it easier for him.
But he has to admit that, when he's lying in his bed right now, unable to sleep, he does miss having someone to share a bed with. To have by his side for the weeks he doesn’t have Wilma with him. He’s lucky, he knows that. He can come and go as often as he wants at Rosh and Melissa’s place. And they do the same at his apartment. Rosh is his best friend, it’s only right. But still, seeing how happy she is with Melissa, how they can do things together with Wilma. It leaves a small ache in his chest.
Simon sighs before he gets up again and walks into the kitchen. He makes himself a cup of tea, just stands there and stares out the window as the water boils. Maybe going through the photos with Wilma will be harder than he thought after all. But he’s moved on. He doesn’t think about Wille every day anymore, like he did for the first years. Yeah, that truth stays in his head, he won’t admit that it literally took him years to move on from Wille. But he hopes that maybe going through it will give him some sense of peace too. That he’s able to see all the good things they shared, and think of it as a lovely period of his life.
He makes the tea and walks back into his room. Simon sits down on the bed and lets the warm liquid fill his body. No one really finds their one true love at 16, right? His perfect match is still out there, the one that will match Wille, even surpass him. He has to believe that. So he drinks his tea and lies back down. Tomorrow he’ll start going through the album with Wilma. It will be nice, to share his youth with her, at least the parts that are suitable to share. He chuckles to himself as he closes his eyes again. He will make it a good thing, both for Wilma and for himself.
As he drifts off to sleep a familiar face dances in front of his eyes. A face he used to love so much he didn’t know it was even possible. Maybe a face that still lingers like a scar on his heart – he isn’t sure if it will ever truly heal.