[Beca's POV]

I was eighteen when I first realized that we were soulmates. I had known for a while that I was in love with you; I think I've always known. You took your time admitting your feelings for me, and even though there was a time where I almost gave up on us and let you go after another guy, we still came back to each other. That's how it always was though. There was no Beca without her Chloe, no Chloe without her Beca. When we were younger, you and I always had sleepovers beneath the stars if the weather was nice. As we grew older, we kept that tradition, shy hand-holds replaced with stolen kisses and whispered admissions of love. I don't think I can ever forget how beautiful you looked that night.

We had lain on the grass shoulder to shoulder, our hands interlaced as we stared up at the star-littered night sky. We spoke of how amazing our senior year was going to be, now that we were together and ready to tell our friends. Then when I told you that I love you with all my heart, you turned your head and looked at me, your eyes shone with so much love and admiration that I didn't even need to hear you make your own declaration.

"Look at the stars, Beca," you whispered quietly.

I gave you an incredulous look, but did as you asked. I looked up to the heavens; there seemed to be more stars out on the sky on that night than ever before. You must have sensed that I was getting lost in my thoughts because you nudged me gently.

"Count all of them."

"But babe," I said, clearly confused. "You're kidding me, right? There's like a fucking million of them up there!"

You smiled that beautiful smile of yours and turned your head to me. "Just count them, you dork. When you're done, that's when I'll stop loving you," you said before leaning in and capturing my lips between yours.

I knew in that moment that I never wanted you to stop loving me. I also knew that you were just making a point; you just wanted to show me how much you loved me in a way that would challenge my cheesiness and corniness when it comes to you. I simply rolled my eyes and started counting them off like a kid, pointing at the stars as I counted up to ten before I turned my head back to you and kissed you again, making you hit my shoulder before eventually kissing me back.

Most people thought that you and I wouldn't last, but we proved them wrong. We were twenty-one when we got married, in Los Angeles of course, with Fat Amy in charge of our wedding and Jesse as my best man and Aubrey as your maid of honor. You looked so damn beautiful, Chloe. Words cannot express the unbelievable amount of emotion that surged through me when I saw you walk down that aisle in a beautiful white dress, tears already running down your face. It was the second best day of my life.

The best day of my life came a year and a half later, when Samuel Kristoffer Beale-Mitchell came into the world. He was perfect, you were perfect, that whole day was perfect. You had always been so scared of being a mother, scared that you'd never be half as good as your mom, so I stayed on your side, telling you constantly how I couldn't ask for a better wife and there's no way that Kris would ask for a better mom. I was living a fairytale life. I had my queen and my sweet young prince. But fairytales come to an end eventually, and sometimes, they don't have a happy ending.

I remember the day when you were taken from me. You woke me up with a soft kiss on my temple, telling me that it was time for your shift at the hospital. I was so proud of you for completing medical school; you were on your way to being one of the best doctors in the country, but your heart belonged to helping out the people who needed it most in clinics. Like I said, I was proud of you, especially because of your dedication to your job. I remember joking that morning at the breakfast table, telling you to call in sick and spend the day with me and Kris. You just smirked and told me that there were lives to save. I pouted for a moment, only to have it wiped away by a kiss and a gentle "I love you."

You walked over to Kris and wrapped the six year old into a hug. "Kris, mommy's gotta go to work, okay?Be good to mama for me and I'll bring ice cream when I get home. I love you."

He smiled widely and said the phrase back, his mind already on the treat he would get when you come home.

"You can bring him to the studio later but hon, please, don't ever let him spin and spin on your swivel chair. I don't want our baby throwing up over your stuff again," you said to me as you pointed a warning finger at me which I just smirked at. "I'll call during my break and he better be sitting. Just sitting. I'll be home early tonight. Promise."

I nodded my head in agreement and gave you another kiss. If I had known in that moment that this would be the last time I saw you, held you, got to feel your lips on mine, I would have made it last longer. I would have poured all my love into that kiss, but I had no idea that later on that day, I would be receiving the worst phone call of my life. You told me you would come home to us. You didn't.

I got the call at around eight, just as I had finished putting Kris in bed. When I saw that it was your work calling, I got excited, thinking that maybe you were getting off then and coming back to me early. Imagine my surprise, my shock, when it was a police officer's voice that met my ear, not yours. He told me that he was very sorry, but a man had tried to steal medicine from the clinic today, and when you refused to give it to him, he pulled his gun and, well, took you from me.

I thought it was a prank, some cruel, cruel April Fool's prank that you pulled on me but when I realized that it was in the middle of August and that no, it wasn't a prank, I sat on our bed and cried. Just cried, for hours. I called Jesse, then Aubrey, damn, all the Bellas. They tried comforting me, but nobody really knew how because you were the only one who knew fully well how to comfort me, like how you calmed me down when my parents divorced. Our friends tried though, and looking back, that's all that matters.

All of our batchmates and some of our teachers showed up for your funeral. It warmed my heart a little bit to see them all there. Bumper was there as well, and he sat beside me during the requiem mass, wordlessly squeezing my shoulder gently everytime a sob escapes my throat. There wasn't a dry eye in the place. They loved you, Chloe. Maybe not as much as I do, but they loved you in their own way.

There was a time when I thought I wouldn't get through this. That I wouldn't be able to wake up in the morning without you by my side, but I had to be strong for Kris. He missed his mommy just as much as I did. After you left us, Chlo, he refused to eat every ice cream flavor I bought him, telling me that he wouldn't eat unless you come back home to us. It was heartbreaking and endearing at the same time. It was hard trying to talk with him, to tell him it was going to be okay, because whenever I tried to sit him down and talk to him while we eat, he would just run away yelling "No, I don't want you. I want mommy! It broke my heart, and all I could do is cry as silently as I could so he wouldn't feel worse than he was already feeling.

After a while, it got better. I was still hurting but the wound wasn't as fresh as it was before. Kris looks more and more like you everyday, Chloe. It's like I have you here with me, in the form of an almost fourteen year old boy. He's freaking smart like you, but has great talents in mixing, like me. He has your piercing bright blue eyes, but you can tell just by looking at him that he has my nose and mouth. All those weeks spent looking for the "perfect sperm donor who could pass as my twin" really did pay off. His skin is the exact fairness as yours and I swear, Chloe, if you could hear him read those medical terms without any difficulties, you would be so proud. I am, too, but it makes me miss you. It reminds me so much of you.

It's our anniversary today, and you'd never guess what I'm doing right now, babe. Well, you probably could, because you knew me better than anyone, but anyways, I'm sitting out on our balcony, looking at the stars with Kris.

"Mama?" his still deepening voice breaks my thoughts.

"What is it, Krissy?" I answer, even though he hates it when I call him that.

"Do you miss Mommy?"

His question stuns me for a moment. I feel my eyes glaze over with tears before I clear my throat and answer him.

"Every single day, honey."

I see him get up out of the corner of my eye. He hugs me and then walks back inside, leaving me to my musings. He's always been perceptive of people, always knowing when to give space or give a hug, or in my case both. I guess I rubbed off on him.

I was eighteen when you told me to count the stars. I was twenty-one when we promised to love each other unconditionally in front of God. I was twenty-eight when you were taken from me. I'm thirty-six now, Chloe, and I haven't stopped counting. I'm going to keep counting until I see you again, until I hear you whisper that soft "I love you, Beca. Forever and always" in my ear again. I won't ever stop. Three hundred fifty six thousand, eight hundred ninety-three stars and counting, my love.