It's three in the morning. I'm sitting in our loveseat, staring out of the window, waiting for her to come home. It's been hours since she's left. The clock on the wall chimes the hour. Muddy yellow light from the lamp outside dimly scatters across the opposite wall of our living room. We'd had an argument, the worst yet. This time it was my fault. As much as it hurts my pride to admit it, I was the one in the wrong. I couldn't admit it then. Neither of us could handle the rising tension. It didn't hit me in the face how much I needed her until the door slammed shut behind her and she was gone. But... through thick and thin, hell and high water, in sickness and in health: she'd promised she'll always come home. I'm waiting for her to come home.

"Can't lose me that easily Beale," she smirks as she slips the ring on my finger. "'Til death do we part."

And it was unfathomable that of all the people in the world, Beca asked to marry me. She, the one with commitment problems. She, the one with daddy issues. She, the one with abandonment issues. She gave her heart to me. Out of anyone and everyone else who'd wanted her, out of all her dreams and ambitions, out of all the possibilities she could've chosen, she asked to marry me.

"I love you Chlo'," she shrugs hopelessly, an earnest loving glow in her eyes.

"Simple as that?"

"Simple as that," and she kisses me softly before resting her forehead against mine and looking seriously with half lidded eyes. "I don't think I can love anyone as much as I love you."

I'd wanted her for so long; longed for her since I'd laid eyes on her. And I tried, so unbelievably hard, to stay away. I tried to tone my affection down. I tried to find someone else to occupy my time. Tom only worked for so long. I'd be wrapped in his arms after we'd just had sex, he'd be laying behind me sleeping deeply. He'd be satisfied, but all I'd think about was her. From the moment he'd stepped in the door, to the moment we removed our clothes, to the moment he fell asleep. I'd be wishing it was her. Her kissing me. Beca touching me. And afterwards, I'd be laying awake, imagining it was her arms around me, breathing into my neck, keeping me warm and safe. Not Tom. Beca.

"What are you thinking about, Chloe?" She smiles at me, that rare, warm, secret smile that lights up her eyes, clearly amused. We've spent the day hanging out in her dorm, studying and listening to music.

"Nothing important-" - and I blush and look away, because I feel like she could be my forever, and her smile relaxes into something more gentle.

"Come here," she pulls me down into her arms. "Come lay down and think about nothing with me."

She'd always been Jesse's girl. It wasn't my right to pursue her when they clearly had something going on. I hadn't made any moves- not the real kind anyway- all year for the fear of it. All of my suspicions were confirmed after the ICCA's when I saw them kiss. Her and Jesse. A part of me died inside, and I couldn't take it. The most I could do was be there for her as her supporting best friend as she started her new relationship. Besides, I'd tried to console myself, I had Tom. Why would I need her?

"God, you don't know how much I need you," her breath is hot against my ear as she murmurs the words, one of her hands playing with a piece of my hair.

"How much?" I can't help but wonder-

- and it takes her a moment of thought, holding me tighter against her body as if she were afraid I'd leave- "I can't think, I can hardly breathe, without you. The days are darker. The stars are dimmer. The world is smaller. Everything's grey and colorless and bland... when you're not here."

"You need me that much?" I ask her, startled, looking at her seriously. I didn't think she needed me at all.

"No," she whispers, her lips brushing against my ear, voice thick with an emotion that's desperate and longing, and cracks. "I need you so much more."

I couldn't leave after I graduated. I couldn't leave her. I couldn't leave her behind. As much as I tried to back away from her, I couldn't. She was a drug and I was addicted for life. I got stuck in this place of being only her friend and painfully watching them happily be together; of wanting to leave because I couldn't stand how much it hurt, but being unable to. As much as it killed me to see her with him and wishing with every fiber of my being that just for one moment I could be in his place and do those things with her, I'd rather be her friend than be her nothing.

"Oh, her eyes, her eyes- Make the stars look like they're not shining..." she surprises me at work, grabbing me in a hug from behind and nuzzling into my neck, sighing contently.

I can't help but laugh at her, leaning back into her embrace, "What are you doing, Becs?"

"Loving my girlfriend, what does it look like?" I give a happy hum as she continues, "Her hair, her hair- Falls perfectly without her tryin'- She's so beautiful... Come'on Chlo', you can't tell me you forgot already?"

I laugh again before singing the words back to her, "She's so beautiful- And I tell her everyday..."

She spins me around in her arms, looking into my eyes as she flashes me that smile. "Uh, uh, I was thinkin' 'bout her, thinkin' bout me- Thinkin' 'bout us, who we gon' be- Open my eyes-"

"I know, I know if I compliment her that she won't believe me- It's so, it's so- Sad 'cuz she don't see what I see-"

"It was only just a dream-"

"-But every time she ask me do I look okay, I say-"

"It was only just a dream..."

"-When I see your face-"

And suddenly she's down on one knee, one hand holding mine and the other holding open box. Everything about her exuding nothing but love as she cuts me off with her beautiful alto voice:

"Marry me."

It's three in the morning, I'm waiting for her to come home. Still waiting for her to come home. It's been three years since we married; that happy lull and that build of excitement of being newlyweds has completely disappeared. Everything's started to go down hill. That love I felt for her has been starting to feel constricting. I've been wondering lately why I'd ever even said yes when she asked me to marry her. Some days I can barely stand her. We do nothing but argue. There's no love, anymore. No romance. No happiness. No surprises. It's just Beca. Nothing more. That used to be enough for me. She used to be just enough for me.

But now that she's gone, and I'm alone in our house waiting for her...

It's late. Around eleven. I just came home from work, exhausted and stressed. The lights in the house are off and I scoff as I realize Beca probably didn't even wait up for me as she used to. I enter the kitchen, letting the door shut loudly behind me, angrily stomping my way to the kitchen. It's dark. I haven't eaten yet and I've been working long hours so I'm more than a little exhausted and hungry. Upon creaking open the fridge, I discover there weren't any leftovers from whatever Beca had for dinner that night. She used to make me a plate and set it aside. Just another thing to be disappointed of. I growl and shove a couple of containers aside with a loud clang as I look for something to eat.

Something startles as a result of the noise and there's a great crash behind me. I spin around, heart beating wildly at the disruption. The light from the refrigerator shines upon Beca, sitting in a seat and leaning heavily on the table, rubbing at her eyes sleepily. "Beca?" I flick on the light.

She blinks, blinded for a moment by the brightness of the room, and in that time I notice the set-up of the kitchen. There are candles perched about the room, smoking gently from where the flames must've died, two of which sat on the table above a maroon tablecloth. On the table were two plates of chicken linguine and a bottle of red wine, unopened, uneaten. There was also a gorgeous bouquet of flowers laying in a puddle of water and broken glass on the ground: hydrangeas, gardenias, and gladiolas. My favorite.

"Chloe," Beca sighs tiredly, thankfully, standing up to greet me. "You're home."

As I hug her back, I eye the room, "What's all this?"

She bites her lip, her face showing surprise and apprehension. "You- You don't...?" Searching for something in my eyes, which she doesn't find, her face falls. "Oh."

"Oh?" I repeat bitingly. "What's that supposed to mean?" When she just shrugs and looks away dejectedly, saying it's nothing like it means something, heat flares up in me and I feel the need to defend myself. "I didn't know you planned a date night, Beca! I had work, you know that! You should've told me."

"I didn't-"

"You didn't what? Think? God, Beca, I know you walk around like you don't have a brain but would it kill you to use that space in your head sometimes! Frigging think!"

"But Chloe-"

"And hell, like I'm supposed to just drop everything for you?! Who's the only one working, huh? Who's the only one with a steady income?" I sit down at the kitchen table and tare into the cold meal, stabbing at the noodles and pieces of chicken. As I'm chewing, I pop open the bottle of wine and hastily pour myself a tall glass.

"Chloe I-"

"I'm making the money here, taking care and providing for you, while you're off gallivanting with your music! Jesus, Beca, it's time to grow up! Get a real job! Get a life! Not everyone can make a living off of music! Help me for once!" I drink it all down.

"Today was our anniversary."

I stop in my movements, frozen. Beca doesn't look at me. "We got married today, three years ago. I wanted this to be a surprise, I know we haven't been doing so well lately. Things have been tense between us. You told me you'd be home at five and I thought maybe this-" She waves to the cold meal she still hasn't taken a bite out of half-heartedly. "-This would help us find that spark again." She's knawing on her lip, "But... When you didn't come home right away, and you didn't answer my calls... Your work said you weren't there, I didn't know-" Her hands are playing with the sleeves of her shirt, "I thought something happened to you and I was scared."

Beca looks over at me with those navy blue eyes of her worriedly, and this time I look away.

It's silent for some time. I don't know what to say.

"Chloe, aren't you going to say something?"

It's been four hours since she's left out of our front door. It took me one second to realize that despite my doubts, I still loved her. It took me two seconds to realize she was gone. It took me three seconds to chase after her to apologize, to beg for her forgiveness, but she'd already left. And now I sit here, on our loveseat, waiting for her to come home and holding the ring she'd thrown at me when I finally said something.

"Chloe, aren't you going to say something?"

Her voice is desperate, needing. She wants something that I can't give her. So I steel that sickness that's roiling about in my stomach as I stand up, convincing myself that all of this with her, marrying her and loving her, was a mistake. I don't love her anymore. But I do!

I do! I do! I do! -

-I don't.

"Chloe?"

She looks at me with such soulful wide, watery eyes; part of me is screaming to stop before I go any further.

Don't do it, don't say it, stop stop stop, Chloe- Don't! You love her!

I take off my wedding ring, look at it with regret before I shake it off, putting on that mask of confidence as I hand it to her.

Don't hand it to her!

Take it back!

Stop, Chloe, stop!

"Chloe?" Her voice is a quiet gush of air, begging, pleading, choking; staring at that ring sitting in the palm of my hand like some alien object.

I force it into her hands as I tell her in a voice that betrays none of the confliction that I feel and referencing our relationship-

"-It was only just a dream."

And I can't get that look on her face out of my mind: aghast, horrified, terrified, stunned, broken; altogether vulnerable in a way that Beca never was. She held the wedding ring and looked at it as if she had no idea what it was or what to do with it. The next thing I knew, she threw it at me and like the broken flowers on the floor it crashed. I ducked, just barely missing it as it whizzed by and realizing with a sudden breathless panic what I've just done, but by the time I stood up she was gone.

"Marry me." She tells me, smiling, as if it's the simplest thing in the world. She's down on one knee and holding my hand and directing those loving, secret, beautiful eyes at me.

"What?" - I didn't think I heard right.

"Marry me," she repeats, grinning wider when I just stand there flabbergasted.

"Chloe Beale, I love you more than life. I love you more than music; than notes or melody or even words can say. More than that heart that beats in my chest or the air that swims in my lungs. I don't know how you managed to do it but you broke through my walls and I love you. I want you, I need you, and I love every single part of you- every second of every day and all the moments in between, wherever I am. I know we're kinda young, and I know that it'll be hard, but I don't need anything else in the world so long as you're with me. I love you Chlo', so will you marry me?"

My throat closes up, tears spring to my eyes and I hurl myself into her arms, passionately kissing her. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes!"

She laughs the happiest, wonderful sound I've never heard, ringing like bells in my ears.

"Yes," I say again, leaning back slightly to look at her. "I'll marry you."

There were a few seconds of us holding one another before I lean back a little, stating, "But I'm keeping my name."

She chuckles again, kissing me on the nose before singing-

"So I travel back down that road- When she come back, no one know-"

The clock chimes again. Another hour gone by. She's not home. I have to keep wiping my tears on her favorite hoodie because I can't stop crying. I need her here, with me, close, home. I need Beca to come home. I made a mistake and I need to apologize. I hear sirens in the distance.

"God, you don't know how much I need you," those words are playing in my ears again, and I can feel her warm breath against my neck like she's there.

"How much?" I hear myself ask.

"I can't think, I can hardly breathe, without you. The days are darker. The stars are dimmer. The world is smaller. Everything's grey and colorless and bland... when you're not here," her voice says it like she'll never say it again.

"You need me that much?" I hear myself ask.

"No," she whispers again, and I cry harder when I remember those words. "I need you so much more."

And then she says those three little words, and I cry harder when I think about how hard it must've been for her to say them for the first time-

"I love you."

I can't help but kiss her as I say the words back-

"I love you too."

It's another half hour later when a police cruiser pull up in front of our house. The lights are off, and the windows black. When the man steps out of the vehicle, he's wearing a dark, grim expression. He walks over to our house and knocks on our door, and I can't answer it. I can't do it. I can't move, I can't breathe, I can't do anything until Beca's home. He's not here for us; he can't be. He knocks again. I can't answer the door.

"Come here," she pulls me down into her arms. "Come lay down and think about nothing with me."

This is all I'd ever dreamed of, laying in her arms like this, but I know it's not meant to be. She's still with Jesse. And I'm... I broke up with Tom.

We'd been cuddling for a few minutes before she said, "That nothing you're thinking of must be pretty loud for me to be able to hear it." She gazes at me serenely, compassionately. "Wanna talk about it?"

I look away for a moment before I say anything. Beca's not the best person to ask for advice but she knows how to listen.

"Do you ever think about your future? Like, what you're going to do with your life?"

She doesn't hesitate to answer, "All the time. I'm going to go to LA and pursue a career in the music industry." She gives me a look, "You should know that already, Beale."

"No, I don't mean like that," I say giggling before rolling over on my side and propping myself up on my arm. There's soft afternoon sunlight streaming in from the window that washes Beca's hair in a lazy glow. "I mean, like, do you think about what you're going to do with your life in the future, and who you're going to do it with?"

"Ahh..." she says, staring up at the ceiling with a dark look. "Tom giving you troubles? If he is, just tell me and I'll kick his ass."

I roll my eyes, "No, Miss Baddass DJ. I don't mean him. Tom's not giving me any problems. I broke up with him three days ago." Beca glances back over at me, and I fall back down on the pillow before curling into her side. "I don't really care about the breakup, I'm not upset or anything. It wasn't serious. It's just that... I don't know, sometimes I feel like I'm destined to be alone. I'm going to grow old and lonely and all I'll be good for is anything but a serious relationship." I nibble on my lower lip as I think about the fact that the girl I want to be in a serious relationship with is the one who's laying next to me in bed, and she has no idea. "I want to find that connection with somebody, that passion and love and spark, and I want them to stay with me through all my highs and lows. To be there for me. Kiss me and make it all better... you know?"

I turn my face slightly to see what she thinks of this, and I find that her face is a lot closer than I thought. Our noses are nearly touching.

"I know..." her lips brush the slightest bit against my own, hesitantly, and there's something about her tone I've never heard before. Her face inches closer to my own, "I know." And then she kisses me and everything that I'd been trying to push away comes leaping to the forefront of my heart, mind and soul. I kiss her back wildly, needing to feel more of her. She rolls on top of me, straddling my waist, and my hips jerk at the movement. My hands lose themselves in her hair, holding her there close to me as her lips move against my own. I lose myself in her touch; my body set aflame by what I'd thought would be my wildest dreams. Her tongue begging entrance at my bottom lip wakes me from this moment of insanity and I pull away. My eyes are wide as they meet Beca's hungry gaze, her face flushed and lips swollen as she leans back in for more.

"Beca, what-"

She quiets me with her lips, "Shh. Don't talk. Let me kiss and make it better, Chlo'."

And I find I can't say a word as clothes are shed and she kisses me, again and again.

"Hello?" The knocks again; I fight the urge to cover my ears until he goes away but the police officer stubbornly stays on the doorstep. His voice is muffled, "Chloe Beale? This is the Atlanta City Police Department regarding your wife, Beca Mitchell. Please open up." I'm shaking now, terrified. I can't answer the door. I need to wait here, and the man at the door is scaring me. Now I know that he doesn't have the wrong door, but I'll do anything to not answer it. I can't answer it. I need Beca to come home. I need Beca. Please, Beca, come home. Please come home. You promised. In sickness and in health...

"But what about Jesse?" I ask Beca when she asks me out for a date a week later.

"What about Jesse?"

I avoid her gaze until she grabs my chin and turns my head towards her, "There is no me and Jesse. Hasn't been for a while. I broke up with him after we kissed."

"Why?"

"I love you Chlo'."

"Simple as that?" I needed the reassurance that she wanted to be with me.

"Simple as that," she kisses me lightly, reassuring me before continuing. "I don't think I can love anyone as much as I love you."

She's not home yet and that police officer is still knocking at the door. And, as much as it terrifies me to think about answering that door, I made a promise to Beca too. Always together, in sickness and in health, through hell and high water... I need to be there for her, whatever the case. I stood up on shaky legs and stumbled my way to the door, smacking my leg against the coffee table in the process. It'll be bruised later. I throw open the door just as the officer's turning to leave. "Beca?" I demand, "Where is she? Where's Beca?"

The police officer turns around, relieved that I answered the door, and opens his mouth to speak before shutting it abruptly and shaking his head. His entire demeanor is morose. "I'm terribly sorry, Ms. Beale..."

My heart is cracking, pooling with my tears on the floor by my feet.

"Your wife, Beca Mitchell, was involved in an incident late this evening regarding some muggers."

No. No- No- No- No No NO! No, please no!

"Your wife fought bravely, but the suspects resorted to violent methods in order to achieve their means. And your wife..."

"What happened to Beca!? Please, please-" I throw myself at the officer, clutching at his jacket, begging him, crying wholeheartedly. "Please, is she alright? Where's Beca? I need to know-"

"Beca didn't- Beca's not-" The man grasped at my hands, holding them gently with a kind, understanding expression. "Beca's fine."

I gasp for air, trying to ground myself on his words, "What?"

"Your wife, she put herself in the path of those thieves to slow them down and was injured and mugged. The men who mugged her and several others ended up stealing her wedding ring, wallet, and cellphone, which I'm told she fought tooth and nail for at gun point. Beca's the only one who got a good look at their faces as a result of her defiance. The muggers didn't take too kindly to that and retaliated- we're a little worried that there might be gang influence involved- but other than a large bump on her head from the butt of a gun and a panic to get back the wedding ring, Ms. Mitchell's just fine."

I almost didn't understand it. "She's okay?"

The officer nods, "Yes. She's down at the station giving a witness statement. I came here to inform you of your wife's current status, to promise you that we're gong to find the men who did this, and to offer you a ride down to the station to see her."

I barely take a second to put some sandals on before I race down to the cruiser. "Let's go."

"Beca!" TI searched for her immediately when we arrived and there! There she was. Just after five in the morning in a police station. "Beca!"

"Chloe!" Beca got up from the seat she was sitting in across from a detective and catches me as I grip her endlessly in a hug.

I sob in her arms, "Beca, baby, I'm so sorry- It's all my fault! I didn't mean to get so angry! I love you! Please, please don't ever leave!"

"Chloe! Chloe! Shhh..." She pulls me tightly to her, and I bury my head in the crook of her neck. "Shhh... I'm right here, babe, I'm not leaving. I'm right here... it's alright."

"I'm so sorry, Beca. I was so worried! It's my fault; I didn't mean a word that I said! I was just... angry, and stressed, and babe- you were right when you said that we haven't been doing so well lately. I was scared, and looking for something to blame, and I just put it on you. I didn't mean to! I didn't mean a word I said! I love you, just the way you are-"

Beca kisses me soundly, stopping my rambling, lips smooth and comforting around my own. "Chlo' I'm right here. I'm not leaving. And you don't need to apologize-"

"-But I forgot our anniversary! And then..." I couldn't say the words. I just held up the ring. "I- I didn't mean- Beca, I'm sorry."

She takes the ring, peering at me carefully, so I said the words she was surely thinking, "I'll go if you want. I'll- I can leave. I wouldn't blame you. I've been an awful wife-" It was then that I noticed the large, purple-blue bump on her upper temple just above her eye. "Beca!" I exclaim, pulling her hair back to better look at her wound. My throat started choking up with the urge to cry again, "Oh, it's all my fault!"

She cuts me off with her lips again; I've been beginning to notice that this is a habit of hers. Beca holds up my hands to her lips, kissing each of the knuckles. "There's no one else I'd ever want to be with but you. I don't want you to leave. People fight sometimes, Chlo'. This was in no way your fault. If anything, it's mine. I couldn't stay and talk it out like a normal adult. I had to run." Here, she scowls. "I let those bastards take my wedding ring, I'm sorry."

I continue to frown, completely disregarding her statement about it being her fault as I fret about her injury.

"Ms. Mitchell? Ms. Beale? I'm sorry to interrupt, but we have to finish filling out these papers..." The officer's voice dances back into our consciousness, reminding the both of us that there were still things to be done. "Ladies?"

"Beca, I thought I lost you," I whisper to her, ignoring the officer because there was this one thing left I had to say. "When you left? I thought you wouldn't be coming back. I was terrified."

"Can't lose me that easily Beale," she smirks as she slips the ring on my finger. "'Til death do we part."

I can't help but laugh, even as tears continue to slip down my face. "Ah-hah! There it is." She wipes the tears away with her thumbs, quietly singing, "-And when she smiles- The whole world stops and stares for a while... 'Cuz you're amazing. Just the way you are..." She pauses to look at me adoringly, "I love you Chloe Beale."

"I love you too," and we're both smiling ridiculously now. How could I have ever thought about leaving her? Beca winced at a sharp pain from her injury, raising a hand up to cover it. I stop her, holding her hand contently in my own, looking at her quite seriously. "Don't touch it, Becs. Let me kiss and make it better." She grins as I gently press my lips to her the raised bruise, and then to her forehead, and her nose, and then her lips. We got lost in each other for a few moments and I knew then that she truly forgave me.

"Uh, ahem. Ladies?" the officer clears his throat and we both pulled back again, Beca in some amusement and me in annoyance. "We really do have to finish this paperwork..." He waves said papers around. I glare at him.

"You know," I begin. "A kiss might make it better, but a doctor certainly couldn't hurt!"

"Aw, Chlo'!" Beca whines, knowing where I'm going with this, bottom lip jutting out the slightest.

"Don't you dare Rebeca Mitchell!" Glaring furiously at the policeman, I ask, "Has she even gotten any medical attention?"

"Well, uh-" the man begins nervously.

"NO?! Ugh! I swear! She's coming home with me so she can get some rest after this overwhelming ordeal and get some proper care. You can get the rest of your statement in a couple of days once I make sure she doesn't have a concussion."

"But Chloe!" Beca tugs at me uselessly, and my eyes snap to hers. "I want to help them find the guys who took our wedding ring so we can get it back."

"No buts! You are injured and unreplaceable; we can always buy another wedding ring but I could never find another you. Besides," I turn my voice down, smiling mischievously. Beca has to lean in to hear what I say next, "Imagine the make-up sex we're about to have."

Her eyes widen considerably and, needless to say, she went home without further complaint.

Also needless to say?

The sex was amazing.

We both skipped work the next day, and the week after that; on top of the all-nighter, the argument, Beca getting mugged, her injury, and all the making-up we had to do we needed to rest. Besides that? We just wanted some time to spend with each other.

Beca certainly wasn't complaining when I appointed myself as her nurse.

A.N.:

Kinda rushed it at parts, and maybe it's a little all over the place, but I actually like this one. It's kinda like a puzzle. It's great. In any case, that's my opinion. Let me know what you think! Wrote this kinda late, so there might also be a mismatch of different tenses (past vs. present, for example). Spending my time procrastinating by writing fanfiction rather than work on something a guy I barely know wants me to do- frankly I'm not quite sure why he asked for my help in the first place considering the fact that it's not at all up my ally- but, ce la vie. In any case, thanks for reading! Leave a review if you liked it- Or not, you know, whatever.

You can be that way.

Psh.

Came back to correct this! Glad you like it, guys- Sorry, I'm not sorry for the emotional rollercoaster I put you through. To be honest? I considered killing Beca off... but then I thought that'd just be predictable and way too depressing for even me to handle right now. Besides- I needed to give Chloe a chance to redeem herself; I couldn't make it so that she had to continue on with her life's greatest regret. We all know how this could've gone- but I didn't want this to end that way. We all need a little love in our lives.