"Mmm," I close my eyes and relish the rich chocolate mousse on my tongue. When I open my eyes back up, I'm met by Riley's cheeky smile and his big, puppy dog eyes gazing at me adoringly. "Thank you for taking me here," I wipe the corner of my mouth with a napkin. "I've been craving chocolate,"

"We're celebrating our three year anniversary and you don't think I know when my girl needs some chocolate?" Riley pretends to be offended in the silly way he has, never one to actually be offended by much.

"You spoil me," I wink and take a bite from his plate now that mine is gone. Mmm - peach cobbler.

The restaurant is elegant but small, seating only about fifty people or so. Candles flicker on the expertly made tables and the servers wear black bow ties as part of their uniforms. We've come here for every anniversary and birthday dinner because it's the nicest place close to campus, and despite the pricey menu, we can afford it every now and again. Three years, I think to myself. It's crazy how far we've come from our younger, less wise freshmen selves.

Noticing the quiet and the tension between Riley's brows, I ask "Whatcha thinking about?"

He shakes his head, his dark curls pushed off of his face. "David got the job offer," David is Riley's roommate and best friend - a tech genius destined to be a millionaire with one of his insane ideas. "And he only interviewed at one company. I've done like fifteen in the last week alone and I don't know. I guess I'm just worried," Riley shrugs. "I didn't realize how hard finding a job would be while finishing senior year strong."

I let out a huff in agreement. Senior year has been kicking my butt and I have the bags under my eyes to prove it. Still - the past four years turned out to be better than I could have ever imagined. "Yeah, the end just came so fast." I smile somberly, knowing I'll miss the late nights out and the late nights in, the football games and conversations that only happen after drinking too much with your best friends. And Riley, I'll always be so grateful for the day he found me in the dining hall - a friend when I had none. A friend that turned into so much more.

"Have you heard back from anywhere yet?" Riley finishes his beer and I bite my lip, not wanting to add to his worry. Knowing me all too well, a huge grin spreads across his face. "You did, didn't you? Emma! That's awesome. Where?"

"I found out on Monday. It's with the publishing house where I did my internship," A small publishing firm just outside of my hometown, I landed the internship the summer after my junior year and loved every minute of it. Combined with great coworkers, the work made me excited to go to the office every day.

Unlike other work I've had, I scrunch my nose at the final memories of working with Oliver and Zara. The more popular my face became, the more they wanted me to do and the less I wanted to do it. I pushed through till the end of my contract, making enough money to make up the difference in tuition after financial aid and scholarships, and then I dropped modeling entirely. The life wasn't for me, anyways.

"Emma, that's amazing - I'm so proud of you! Let's celebrate," Riley's eyes light up and he doesn't even ask why I waited to tell him, focused only on my success. "I know, tequila shots!" He shouts as he raises his hand to grab the server's attention.

"Um," I shake my head quickly, a distant memory refusing to be squashed no matter how hard I try. "No tequila shots. Tequila doesn't agree with me," I fib, praying he doesn't see through it. Riley knows about my past relationships and how I don't like tabloids, but still it doesn't seem fair to let him know how one relationship in particular still affects me sometimes. How the thought of tequila shots or a heavy guitar solo can send my mind reeling on any given day, or how I can't pick up my favorite book without hearing his voice telling me that I'm a nerd.

"Huh," Riley's lower lip juts out a little as he ponders the new information. "I never knew that,"

I shake my head slowly. "It wasn't pretty,"

His smile stretches wide across his face, white against his tan complexion. "Champagne it is then,"

Once the server's dropped off two glasses and poured us our drinks, Riley raises his champagne flute to me. "Let's make a toast,"

"Ooh," I wiggle my eyebrows at him, meeting his glass gently. "To what?"

"To our future," he beams confidently. "Maybe we don't have all the details figured out," His brown eyes twinkle. "Okay, maybe I don't have all the details figured out yet, but I've got you by my side. That's all I need to know." I smile at him despite the the weird twisting in my gut. He continues, grin growing impossibly bigger. "And to you, for landing your dream job right out of school!"

I clink my glass to his enthusiastically, ignoring the sinking sensation inside of me. "Cheers," I mutter, unable to place the feeling.

***

Putting my window down, I let the warm breeze tousle my hair as I drive down a long, winding back road not far from campus. Riley and I found a cute ice cream stand down this way during finals our sophomore year and I'm determined to find it again. He loved their rum raisin flavor, claiming that a good rum raisin is hard to find. Probably because there's no such thing as good rum raisin, I scrunch my nose as I scan the road for any side streets that might bring me to the right place.

Well, I guess he's right. I groan and pull to the side of the road - it is hard to find. Riley made it to the second round of interviews for a position at an interesting start up company and I wanted to surprise him. Reluctantly, I take out my phone and turn down the radio to concentrate. As the maps app tries to locate a nearby ice-creamery, something on the radio catches my attention.

I stare at the radio intently, as if that'll make me comprehend the words coming from it better. Finally just turning the knob to a higher volume, I lean back in the drivers seat, still glaring at the sound coming from my favorite station.

The radio host at this hour is loud and obnoxious, one who talks more than anyone cares to hear. His voice fills my small car, "You all remember Beau Lewis right?"

I cringe. Of course I do.

"Of course you do! Well, your favorite guitar player is back and this time he's gone solo!"

What?

MisFits broke up just over two years ago and the paparazzi have been trying to nail down the guys plans ever since. I tried not to keep up, but I still had no idea Beau had gone solo, or even that he'd ever wanted to.

A booming voice brings me back to the present. "Here's his first single as a solo artist, a track called.. 'Emma' - any guess who it might be about?" The host laughs at his own joke before his voice fades into music. Blinking slowly, I can't make my brain move past what I've just heard. I reach to turn the music off completely but somehow my hand only turns the dial to a ridiculous volume that almost hurts my ears.

I close my window and my eyes, waiting for the lyrics to start. The music is still rock and still composed of impressive guitar playing, but it's softer somehow. Less angry. When his voice joins in, all of the air in my lungs is forced out of me.

His voice, a voice I haven't let myself listen to in years, is deep and smooth as it comes from my sound system. He sings about a love greater than himself, a love that healed him, made him better. While the lyrics never mention my name, it doesn't make any difference - my heart beats haphazardly as tears fill my eyes, all the memories rushing back at once.

As the music picks up, his voice raises alongside it, filled with emotion, more than I ever saw from him, depicting a love lost forever - but one he will always be grateful for.

The tears flood my cheeks now and I collapse forward onto my steering wheel, too overwhelmed to hold it together any longer. Why would he do this to me?

A familiar hole, one that never quite healed properly, tears open in my heart, letting a storm of emotions crash through me. After the first night when I tried to wreck the guitar I'd bought for him, I refused to let myself cry another tear over him. I distracted myself with dorm shopping, planning, studying, anything I could just to avoid thoughts of him.

One song. One song, and just like that, his voice is my undoing.

I'm not sure how long I sit there, warm tears wetting my cheeks, before I finally turn the radio down, tired of hearing the host's voice.

Refocusing my energy on my original mission, I wipe my face and grab my phone from where it fell to the floor before making my way back onto the road.

Once I begin using the map, I find the ice cream shop with ease. Small and in need of some tender love and care, the stand sits alone in a large parking lot.

I make my way to the window and keep my eyes downcast, positive the clerk will be able to see that I've been crying. "One pint of rum raisin, please." I hand over some cash and resist the urge to tell her it's not for me - there will be no sad, teary-eyed, ice-cream eating from me, I tell myself, hoping that it's true.

"Rum raisin, coming right up." The girl hurries to the back of the store and returns quickly, handing me the cold carton with a cheerful smile.

"Thanks," I leave her a healthy tip and hop back into my car.

Ice cream safely in the passenger seat, I head back to campus, keeping the radio just loud enough so that I can still hear what songs are being played.

No matter what song plays, the lyrics to Beau's song repeat over and over in my mind and I'm not sure what would be worse: listening to it and breaking down again, or not hearing it at all.