AN: This is the first chapter of an AU fic. Carl and Emma never separated, Will left for Broadway. Part one of this fic, for eight chapters, will be a series of letters, and part two will be written in the present. Please pay attention to the dates of each letter, for this will be the time frame that takes the characters to the present. However, all letters will be in order unless stated otherwise. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

XXXX

10 January, 2012

William Schuester 297 East 49th Street, Apartment 13 New York, NY 10017

Will,

You have no idea how relieved I was to read your last letter. I was so happy for you, yes, but relieved more than anything. Prior to reading your letter, I was concerned that you had put yourself in a pickle of which you were unsure how to get out. You're brave. New York would be too busy for me, and I imagine the city to be a very frightening space. But it seems as though everything is working out for you. In my mind, you're so gleeful.

I spoke to Finn yesterday. He said that he speaks to you over the phone once a week. I'm proud of you. That boy needs you and you haven't forgotten him. He misses you, though. I just know it. He said you're very supportive of his choice to enlist in the army, and while I'm conflicted, I think that you're right. He's a loyal boy, and if he grows up to become half the man you are, he'll be a wonderful asset to our country in any position.

It's their senior year, and although many members of your glee club are leaving, Shelby has managed to recruit some wonderful performers. I'm sure Finn has told you all about them. Don't worry, Will. Your glee club is in safe hands.

Thank you for the tickets to the musical. Mary Poppins has always been one of my favourites, and to see you perform in it would have been amazing. Don't belittle yourself and your success. You may not have a named role, or an understudy quite yet. But you sing and dance with the company. That's huge, Will. I'm so proud.

I wanted to be there at your first performance. I wanted so badly to be there. And I thought about it. I stared at the tickets, read the seat numbers so many times I had them memorised. It was very considerate of you to include a ticket for Carl. Thank you, Will. That there were two tickets in the envelope had me opening the American Airlines website to book seats in first class. I know you meant well by sending two tickets. But I couldn't sit in that audience next to my husband and watch you, Will. It's wrong.

Have you made friends in New York? Surely you have. Is the cast of Mary Poppins large? Are they friendly? How many costume changes do you have? Is the dancing challenging? Are you seeing anyone? Can you date your fellow cast members?

I don't want you to be lonely.

Do you feel guilty? I don't. I hope you don't regret what we did together. It was beautiful, Will. So beautiful. I can remember every detail, the way we touched, and breathed, and lived as one. Sometimes, I feel as though your eyes haunt me. Other times, I think I make it up, sensationalise what we shared that night in your bed. Am I crazy to make it something it wasn't? Was it as wild for you as it was for me? Actually, don't tell me. I don't want to know. No, maybe I do.

I'm conflicted.

What I do know is that I'm married, and I know that it was wrong. It was so wrong to make love to you when another man is so kind, and generous, and good-heartedly committed to me. Carl is wonderful and perfect. It was awful for me to do that to him. Especially when he waited so long for me; a virgin until you.

All of that aside, I don't feel ill remembering us together. What you and I had...Will, I couldn't die without being with you. We have this irresistible connection, and now that I've been with you, and my husband, I know that what we have between us is too intense. It's too deep, Will.

Passion doesn't mean everything. That's what I tell myself when I look around and see my life, and the happiness I bring to people- to my husband.

Now you are gone, and for the first time in my life, I feel like a married woman. Please, be happy in New York and let me have this life. Every day I convince myself this is what I want. And I'm almost there. I'm almost there to the point that I no longer have a choice.

You asked for my phone number. I can't give you that.

Something has changed, Will. Everything is fine, and I'm very, very happy here in Lima, so there's no need to worry. But someone else's life is quickly becoming just as important as mine. Carl is my husband, and he is a good man, and our commitment to each other is stronger than ever.

I know that I led you on the last time we spoke. I know that. I'd take it back if I could. I'd take it back because this needs to stop.

In your last letter you asked how I am. You asked many questions actually, some I refuse to answer because I'm married. Your words bring a blush to my cheeks, Will, that's all I can say in response. How am I? You ask. Doctor Shane is very impressed with how I am handling my life here in Lima. The last time we were together, my OCD was improving. Of course, considering how we were, how we expressed our...affection. But I'm getting better. I take meds for my anxiety, but I've just changed from the type of medication I was on. Change is good, Doctor Shane says. With therapy twice a week, I think I'm going to be okay.

Maybe one day, when your life is established in New York, maybe I'll come and see you, Will. I'll visit you on Broadway. A surprise, perhaps. Would you like that? We'll be older, wiser. Our relationship won't be so strained. I'll be a better person, too.

Last time we spoke, you told me that I wasn't in love with my husband. I do love Carl. I love him very much, and how I share my love is not for you to decide. I made love to you, finally. But we want different things, and soon, we'll really have those things. You already do.

I can't have you sending letters to the house anymore. I've purchased a post office box that you can write to. The return address on this envelope is the box. I don't know how often I'll collect the letters, but you need to know that I will. I'll read them, Will.

I'm going away for a while, Will. Carl and I are going to his father's home on Cape Cod for a few weeks, until February. Carl Howell Snr is the pioneer of a major fishing business on the Cape, and is being honoured by the Massachusetts Business Association. Carl adores the Cape, yet I don't know how I'm going to deal with the smell of fish.

But, Will, my adventures are nothing compared to yours.

I wish you the best of luck. You're a wonderful performer and Broadway is lucky to have you.

A year ago we were both messes. Now, we're okay. We've come far, Will.

May New York offer you as much love and respect as Lima did.

Emma Pillsbury-Howell.