Chapter Text
Simon sat on his bed in the dim light, his gaze fixed on the closed door.
Beside him lay a positive pregnancy test from the hospital. The doctor had confirmed he was one month pregnant—the exact time he had last been intimate with Wille.
Simon couldn't believe it. He was a man, for goodness’ sake. How could a man be pregnant? The doctor's assurances that it was rare but possible did little to ease his disbelief. This situation filled him with a mixture of shock and deep anguish.
Simon gently placed his hand on his stomach, feeling the weight of the decision looming over him.
"What should I do, my baby? I've already broke up with your another dad, and he's the Prince of Sweden."
---Seven months later
Simon sat outside his new home in a small town on the outskirts of Sweden. His mom and Sara had moved here with him. Nobody recognized them in this new place. They had made the decision to move because Simon's pregnancy had to remain a secret to ensure their safety.
Simon deeply wanted this baby, he already loved him so much. He felt guilty that his mom and Sara had to move here for him, but they had been incredibly supportive. Thankfully, there was a high school nearby, and Sara had made some friends there.
It had been eight months since he got pregnant. Simon could feel the baby kicking inside him sometimes.
He lovingly caressed his belly, softly humming the lullaby he had composed for his unborn child. As he finished the melody, he gazed down at his belly, his eyes shimmering with a gentle smile.
"Milo, my baby, I love you so much. Thank you for choosing my belly as your home. I hope you grow healthy and strong. And I hope I can be a good dad for you."
'Milo' was a nickname from Emilio, the name he had already chosen for his baby boy.
Suddenly, his phone rang. His breath caught in his throat as he glanced at the name displayed on the screen.
It was Wille.
Opening the message, his heart raced with a mix of excitement, fear, and above all, hope.
-Simon, I have something important to tell you. Could we meet somewhere and talk?
Yes!Yes!Yes!
Simon screamed in his mind. But he needed to be rational.
After agonizing over it repeatedly, he replied that night.
-yes. Wille. I want to meet you.
As he sent the message, tears welled up in Simon's eyes and streamed down his face. The weight of their situation, their love, and their unborn child's future pressed heavily on his heart.
He thought of Wille incessantly—awake, asleep, and every moment in between. Wille permeated every corner of his existence.
In the hazy moments between dreams and reality, Simon sometimes stirred, murmuring Wille's name as he yearned for the warmth of his presence, only to awaken to the cold reality that the warmth existed only in dreams.
Other times, he found himself absently gazing at the goldfish in the tank, reminders of a time when their names were irrelevant—until Wille arrived and gave them significance.
Sometimes Simon murmured their names with his eyes closed, imagining the blond holding him close from behind.
“Olle, Oski, Felle.”
“Do you still remember Wille?”
Simon picked up his phone and showed the fish the photos. The fish didn't react at all, of course.
"I show these to you often, you must still remember," he chuckled to himself, realizing how silly he was being.
But not as usual, today his smile was full of hope because he would see Wille in two days.
"Milo, you're going to meet another dad." Simon spoke softly to his baby bump.
Two days later, in the evening, Simon wrapped himself in a thick duvet, though it struggled to conceal his swollen belly.
He hadn’t informed Wille yet, he thought it might be better to break the news in person, though he dreaded the conversation ahead.
Nervously, he waited at the cafe, his mind racing with anticipation and anxiety. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, each second ticking away in palpable tension.
But Wille didn’t show up—no message, no call. Simon's heart sank with each passing moment, a sinking feeling that Wille might have changed his mind.
Suddenly, a screech of brakes and a loud crash pierced the air. Simon's heart leaped to his throat, his nerves fraying as he instinctively rose to check what had happened outside. Before he could move forward, he was forcefully knocked down by a tall man rushing past.
Sharp, agonizing pain tore through Simon's belly, a wave of torment that left him gasping for breath. Warmth spread down his legs, a chilling realization that something was terribly wrong. Panic gripped him as he felt his trousers grow damp, the fear of losing his child overwhelming him.
"Baby... my baby... please, help..." Simon's voice cracked with desperation as he reached out to those around him, clinging to a fragile hope that they could save his child. Darkness threatened to engulf him as consciousness slipped away.
When Simon regained awareness, exhaustion weighed heavy on his limbs. He remembered waking up on the operating table, though his memory was blurry. Confusion clouded his thoughts for a moment, but his hand instinctively sought out his belly.
Relief washed over him when his mom told him he had successfully given birth to his son, who now lay in the NICU due to being premature.
Simon went to see his son as soon as he was able to walk, when he finally saw his son, his tears streaming down his face uncontrollably. He couldn't bear to leave, but the doctor's stern words reminded him of the fragile reality they both faced.
Reluctantly, Simon tore himself away, each step a painful separation from the child he had just brought into the world.
Simon was on his way back to his room when a sudden realization gripped him like a vice.
Wille!
He found himself running towards his room to get his phone, but a sharp pain in his body forced him to stop abruptly.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Simon turned, his heart skipping a beat at the familiar voice.
"Wille? Why are you... in a patient's gown?"
Simon noticed the bandage around Wille's head and the hospital attire. Confusion and worry mingled on his face.
"What happened?" Simon's voice trembled as he gently reached out to touch Wille's arm, but Wille instinctively pulled away.
"I'm sorry. But do I know you?"
Simon's breath caught in his throat, his mind spinning in disbelief. "W-what?"
"I had a car accident," Wille continued calmly, unaware of Simon's turmoil, "It seems to have taken my memory for about a year."
The words hit Simon like a physical blow. His knees felt weak, and he struggled to comprehend the enormity of what Wille had just said. Anguish and disbelief flooded through him, threatening to overwhelm his senses.
"One year...” Simon whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. “Does that mean you don’t remember anything from Hillerska...?"
Simon's voice faltered, his heart breaking for Wille, who now had to face the pain of losing his brother all over again, and for himself, knowing Wille couldn't remember their love or any of the moments they had shared together.
"Oh, Hillerska. They said I've been there, but I don't recall anything. Were you one of my friends there?"
He searched Wille's eyes desperately, hoping to find some glimmer of recognition, but there was none.
Simon felt a lump form in his throat. He took a deep breath, struggling to compose himself. "We were…in the same grade, not exactly friends," he replied quietly, swallowing hard. "Apart from the amnesia, did the doctors say anything else? How's your head? Are you in pain?"
Wille shook his head. "Everything seems fine. They just want to observe me for a few more days before I can leave."
"So... do you think your memory will come back?" Simon's voice trembled slightly, the burden of uncertainty pressing down on him.
Wille shrugged uncertainly. "The doctor isn't sure. It might return, or it might not. At least it seems I haven't forgotten anyone or anything too important."
Simon managed a strained smile, his heart heavy with sorrow. "That's... good to hear."
"Why are you here at the hospital?" Wille asked.
Simon hesitated, his hand instinctively resting on his belly, thinking of his son, their son.
The person he loved, the father of his child, stood before him as a stranger. The full impact of the situation crashed down on him, leaving him utterly shattered.
And suddenly, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
"My…my stomach hurt... Sorry, I need to go." Simon finally managed to speak, his voice trembling with heartache. He took a step back, his world spinning out of control. He feared that if he stayed any longer, he might lose control—vomit, collapse, or faint.
Retreting to his room, he struggled to process the devastating twist of fate. Tears welled up in Simon's eyes, streaming down uncontrollably.
As the reality sank in, Simon fought to contain his emotions, the room suddenly feeling suffocatingly small. It was so cruel to rip away their shared past just when Simon had dared to hope for a future together.
The next night, Simon lay restlessly in bed, thoughts swirling as he tossed and turned, unable to find peace. Eventually, he decided to seek solace on the rooftop, hoping the quiet darkness would clear his mind.
To his surprise, he found William sitting alone on a bench, tears staining his cheeks.
"Wille? What's wrong?" Simon asked softly, with concern on his face, realizing Wille might have found out his brother’s death.
William quickly wiped his tears away, trying to compose himself. "I just found out Eril was dead. You must have already known it."
Simon's heart ached for William's pain. "I'm so sorry, Wille." he murmured, sitting down beside him.
William sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. "Maybe I shouldn't ask this, but is it okay for you to hold me for a moment?"
Without hesitation, Simon wrapped his arms around William, holding him gently, reminiscing about the morning they had shared an intimate moment in Wille's dorm—the morning everything had begun.
After a while, William's sobs quieted, his breathing steadying against Simon's chest.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I'm sorry... Even though I don't remember you, I feel strangely familiar with you. It's like I can trust you, be myself around you."
Simon forced a bitter smile. “I’m glad I could help you. How’s your injury?”
“There’s no sign of my memory coming back, but I can be discharged tomorrow.”
“After you’re discharged... will you go back to being the crowned prince?” Simon asked cautiously.
“Yes, I suppose I don’t have a choice. Who would have imagined that I went to sleep as usual, only to wake up and find myself a crowned prince." Wille replied sarcastically.
“Do you want to bring back your memory?”
“I don’t know.” Wille replied, the uncertainty in his voice echoing Simon’s own fears.
They chatted idly for a bit before William yawned.
“Should we go back to sleep?” Simon suggested.
“Yes, thank you for tonight.” Wille replied with gratitude.
“No problem.”
Before they parted, Simon cast one final glance at Wille, his eyes pleading silently for any hint of acknowledgment, but none was coming.
The next day, Wille's mother and Malin came to pick him up, and Simon watched from the hospital room window as Wille got into the car.
Simon's heart sank as he saw them drive away, a knot of sadness and angst tightening in his chest. The thought that this might be the last time he would see Wille left him feeling hollow inside.
The man he had been longing to see, hoping against hope for a reunion, was now lost to him in a way he had never imagined. He clutched his chest, trying to steady himself.
He couldn't believe the turn of events. Why did this have to happen?
As the car disappeared from view, Simon closed his eyes briefly, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
His son's health steadily improved, allowing Simon to bring him home. In the quiet of the evening, Simon watched his baby sleep peacefully in his crib, a tender smile spreading across his face.
"You're so small, little one. I really want to be a good dad to you. I promise to do everything in my power to keep you safe and happy. I hope you'll grow to love me as much as I already love you."
-four years later-
Simon walked through the supermarket, holding his son's hand tightly as they stood in line at the cashier.
"Daddy! Chocolate!" exclaimed Milo, pointing eagerly at the array of chocolates displayed by the checkout counter, his big eyes pleading with Simon.
"Sure, Milo. We can buy some today, but how about we save it for tomorrow?" Simon replied, smiling down at his son.
"But I love this flavor the most!" Milo pouted slightly, gripping Simon's sleeve and giving him the classic puppy-dog eyes.
Simon couldn't help but wonder where Milo had picked up this persuasive tactic. He found himself melting at his son's adorable plea, but he knew he had to be firm.
"But remember what happened last time you had five pieces of candy in one day? Your teeth hurt, and your tummy too." Simon gently reminded him, seeing the disappointment on Milo's face, "So, how about we skip the chocolate for today? But tonight, I will make your absolute favorite dish." Simon suggested with a smile.
"I want Grandma's cooking!" Milo exclaimed excitedly.
"Alright, alright. Grandma will cook something delicious for us tonight!"
"Yeah!!" Milo cheered, his face lighting up.
Simon leaned down and planted a kiss on Milo's forehead.
As Simon approached the checkout counter, the muted murmur of the TV caught his attention. He glanced at the screen, expecting the usual mundane headlines, but what he saw made his heart skip a beat.
There, on the screen, was the man he had yearned for—the one part of him desperately wished to hear from, yet feared the consequences of such contact.
He had clung to the hope that Wille might one day reach out if he restored memories. Simon hadn't even changed his phone number, holding onto a thread of possibility. But as the news unfolded, any lingering hope dissolved into bitter reality.
"According to royal reports, Prince William is engaged to Lady Catherine, a member of the aristocracy. The engagement ceremony will take place in a week."
The coins slipped from Simon's grasp, clattering onto the floor. His eyes were fixed on the screen, where Wille stood hand in hand with a stunning woman, their intimacy portrayed vividly before him.
The world around him blurred as he struggled to comprehend the finality of it all. The slight hope that had remained inside him for so long now lay shattered at his feet, alongside the scattered coins, leaving him staring vacantly at the screen where the future of the man he still deeply loved unfolded without him.