AN: This story has been sitting in my drafts for so long. I've almost written it a dozen times, but never had the confidence to follow through because I was not (and still am not) sure that I can pull it off. At least not in the way that I see it in my head. But you never know until you try, right?

If you want to follow along, yay! I'm always happy to have readers to engage with and push me through. Just keep your expectations low and be patient. lol I can't promise speedy updates, but I can promise a lot of firsts for my writing: Andre, not so sympathetic Lori, and angst fluff.

Here's the prologue. I know it's short and not super exciting, but it's necessary.

Prologue

"You think we ever would've met before?"

"Like before the turn?" she asked without lifting her head from his chest.

"Yeah."

"Hmm..."

She smiled to herself and continued to slowly trace her fingers up and down his bare chest just has she had been doing for the last several minutes. They always had their best conversations after they had made love; naked and alone, sated and relaxed, curled up against each other in the quiet confines of their bedroom. Sometimes silly, sometimes profound, and sometimes both. They would simply talk, allowing the conversation to slowly unfurl and take whatever shape it wanted, and ending only when one or both of them drifted off to sleep.

"I suppose it's not out of the realm of possibility since we both lived in the same area," she decided. "But I didn't come out your way much...or ever, honestly."

"No, I imagine you wouldn't have had a reason to," he said with a sigh.

"Did you come to the city much?"

"Sometimes. Lori and I would go for concerts once or twice a year."

"Which ones?"

"Oh let's see...we saw Faith Hill at Phillips Arena for Lori's birthday one year."

"Mmm, I must have missed that one," she teased, causing his chest to shift beneath her head as he chuckled at her unsurprising revelation.

"We saw Alabama there one time, too," he added, already smiling in anticipation of her reaction.

"Oh no," she gasped. "No, I was definitely not there."

"Yeah, I didn't think so," he laughed. "We'd come up for the Dogwood Festival every April, too."

"Now we're talking. I actually went every year. Never missed it."

"There we go." He smiled, pleased that they had found a setting for this little game. "Maybe we would have met walking through the market."

"Or standing in line for funnel cakes…" she mused wistfully. She was powerless against that sweet smell in the air that could only ever be found at carnivals, fairs, or festivals; its scarcity making it all the more alluring when she did happen upon it.

"Or on the playground. We always ended up there with Carl. I can't even imagine how many hours of my life I spent pushin' him on the swings. Higher, Dad, Higher," Rick illustrated, softening his raspy voice to emulate his son's.

"That how you got those muscles?" she teased as she reached over to pinch his bicep.

"Right," he scoffed, modest to a fault.

"Andre was a slide kid." She began to laugh softly to herself as she pictured him running up to the playground as soon as it was within sight, just laughing and squealing in delight while he left her and Mike in his dust. "He would literally go ten times in a row. Just slide down, land right on his little butt, then pop right up, dust himself off and do it all over again, looking to us for a thumb's up as he ran around back around." She shook her head against his chest. "It was the cutest thing. Mike and I would just be sitting on the bench almost in tears from laughing so hard..."

He didn't need to see her face to know that the apples of her cheeks were pulled high on her face that she was beaming from the memory of her two boys. It was the strangest feeling, one he rarely had the occasion to experience since they hardly ever spoke of their past lives. It wasn't a deliberate omission, it's just that it was so distant and foreign that it almost felt like someone else's story anymore.

But still, here she was smiling at that memory of a former life, and on the surface he was smiling along with her, but deep down, there was a gnawing sense of guilt. It was unsettling to be reminded of everything she had to lose to be here in his arms. If he had it his way, she would never know pain; not then, not now, not ever. But if he had it his way, he would also never know life without her. It was just unimaginable now that he had. She was the greatest love of his life, what some might call a soulmate if they believed in that supernatural notion. And perhaps that's why he found himself asking this next question, just looking for one small in...

"You think we ever could have been together...before?"

Her face fell and her hand slowed to a stop on his chest. She wanted to say of course as she laid here in the arms of the man she loved. She wished it was as simple as that because it was thee type of profession you wanted to make to your love, but she couldn't betray her past. She lifted her head from his chest and met his eyes with a rueful look.

"I was happy," she answered simply, a hint of regret in her voice because she felt like she was letting him down.

He nodded and gave her a small, albeit sad smile, then cupped her cheek with his hand and guided her head back down to his chest, absolving her of any guilt she may have felt over her answer.

"And I wasn't…"

She began to trace her fingers over his chest again as they settled back into each other. She knew that he and Lori had a troubled marriage, but she had never heard any of the dreadful details.

"Why?"

"Why," he repeat with a glum laugh. "Last person I tried to explain this to didn't quite get it," he recalled. Then again, it turned out his best friend harbored some kind of feelings for his wife, so it made a lot more sense in hindsight.

"Try me."

He huffed out a laugh through his nose at her dry delivery and drew her in closer to press a kiss atop her head.

"I guess if I had to blame it on one thing, I'd say that she just didn't love me anymore. I don't even think she liked me."

Michonne winced at his confession, feeling a pang in her chest for the man she loved.

"It's the only thing I can think of," he continued, "because it just got to the point where I couldn't do anything right. Every time we spoke, I felt like I was walking into a trap. She complained about money, so I took on extra shifts, then she complained that I was never around. That was the last argument we had, before I got shot, before everything changed…"

Her eyes shifted to the scar on the left side of his chest. It was easy to forget that this one hadn't been earned fighting for this life like those on his shoulder or under his eye. It was a scar he carried from his previous life.

"We were all in the kitchen, and Carl was eating cereal at the table before school She asked me what time I'd be home for dinner, and I said late since I was workin' a double so go ahead and eat without me, and that was all it took. She turned from the sink and just went off. Sometimes I wonder if you even care about us at all..."

He brought his hand to his forehead then clenched his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. After all this time and everything he had been through, that one still stung, not as bad as the day it happened, but he still felt it.

"...she said that right in front of Carl. That's when I knew...I knew that there was no amount of therapy or time that would fix us because she clearly didn't care about me anymore…if I had come home that day, it would have been the beginning of the end."

Michonne pressed into him and wrapped her arm snug around his chest. She felt truly sad for him. Yes, she and Mike had their own tragic ending, but at least it had taken something as monumental as an apocalypse to tear them apart. In her heart of hearts, she believed that she and Mike would have lived happily ever after, probably had another child or two, and all without a proper wedding because they were just that good together in that world.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his chest.

"You have no reason to be," he whispered back.

He was right. She could never see herself having to apologize to him, not for something she said or did. In this world, she couldn't imagine that anything short of death would divide them.

She held onto him tighter and took one deep cleansing breath to release her body and mind from the heavy memories that they had just unearthed. As she exhaled, she closed her eyes and focused on his breath and heartbeat as she drifted to sleep.