Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Any and all original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.


A/N: The other day, I was listening to my iPod on shuffle, and the song Let Her Go by Passenger came on. It got my creative juices flowing, and I thought up a new story, so here it is. I have it all plotted out in my head, so I'm super excited to get this started, because I know where it's headed. For those of you reading, I want to thank you for taking the time out of your day to check this out. Some are you are becoming very loyal readers of mine, and that doesn't go unnoticed. I appreciate you all, and I really hope you like this. Let me know what you think!


Photos were all she had to hold onto.

Stephanie spent her days clawing at the open air, struggling to grasp any part of him, to reel him back in on his line. Much like a fish who refused to be caught, he ignored the bait on her hook, and all he left her with was an expanse of time. Time to think, to reconsider her personal choices, to ask herself what she truly deserved in life. Her love for Chris was unique, the kind of intimate relationship she doubted she would ever find again, but she had nothing to show for their time together. Not a solid marriage, not a bouncing baby, not a sparkling engagement ring, and most of the time, not even the attention of the man she adored most.

Chris loved her, and she knew that to be true in the depths of her heart, regardless of those around her who doubted his dedication as a boyfriend. He did love her, but he took her for granted. He had the set idea that she would always be there, that she would wait patiently for him as days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years. She couldn't blame him for thinking so, because that was precisely what she had done, staring at the phone in desperation each weekend as she waited for it to ring, all so she could hear his voice for what usually only amounted to a couple of minutes at a time.

She lay sprawled on the couch with a half-eaten, assorted box of chocolates sitting in her lap, and when she sneaked a glance at her phone for what felt like the hundredth time, she knew she had a problem. A bored shell of herself — standing by and praying for the phone to ring — was what Chris had reduced her to, and, ultimately, she had no one to blame but herself. She had allowed it to happen, but she couldn't wait for him anymore. She extended her arm and snatched another picture at random from the messy stack on the side table: Stephanie was kneeling beside a pond, holding a rock in her hand as she prepared to skip it across the water, and Chris grinned from behind her, holding his leg up and pretending like he was about to kick her in.

Her heart clenched in response to the image, as did her jaw, and she growled and tossed the photo onto the floor, another distant memory of the inattentive man she prepared to say goodbye to. Except she wasn't prepared; not by a long shot. Chris was her heart, but hearts were made to be broken, and surely both her heart and Chris himself would break when she set her ultimate decision in stone, but they would each be better for it in the end. Chris deserved to travel the world and put on concerts with his band in peace, just like Stephanie deserved not to have to spend every waking moment waiting for him.

On the weekends, she rarely went home to Connecticut, instead spending her time in Chris's Tampa home. He wasn't there to greet her all that often, but they had created a bank of wondrous memories there, and she was comforted staying in the home, almost as if Chris surrounded her, even in his absence. His home was Stephanie's security blanket, or at least it had been, but as she grew misty eyed and tugged her ring off of her finger, she knew her decision was the right one, despite how terribly it would hurt everyone involved. Stephanie sat up on the couch and deposited her ring onto the center of the coffee table.

She crossed the room, shouldered the bag she had packed for herself that morning, did a final sweep of the house, and stepped outside.

She was out of Chris's life and, this time, her decision was final.

::::::::::

Waiting for Chris to notice her, to pick up on her sudden absence from his home in Tampa, was almost like a game. The only aspect that set that game apart from the average one was that Stephanie wasn't having any fun. She was sleepy and agitated all day at work, checking her watch multiple times as she sat at her desk, wishing the hours would tick straight through on the clock so she could return home and sink into bed. Two days had passed since she left Chris's house, and her anxiety had shot through the roof as she waited for the inevitable phone call from him, which would entail Chris trying his hardest to win her back.

Stephanie worked a short while longer, but when her concentration was broken by her rumbling stomach, she removed her eyeglasses and sighed. Placing her elbows on top of the desk, she used her fingertips to gingerly massage her temples. It had been a struggle to even get out of bed that morning, and she had forgotten to grab anything from the cupboard for breakfast, so her body struggled to remind her to eat. Without bothering to turn her head, Stephanie felt around near the bottom of her desk and searched for her purse, which she placed in her lap when she found it, tugging out her matching, designer coin purse.

In the middle of gathering quarters for the vending machine down the hall, a powerful knock boomed from the opposite side of her office door, making her jump. Few people were given access to the hallway housing her office inside Titan Towers, which meant that whoever sought after her had passed the security check. Stephanie cringed, not in the mood to talk to anyone, but she left her swivel chair and went to the door regardless, pressing her palms flat against the cool wood. "Who is it?"

"It's me. Can I come in?" His tone was a mixture of determination and regret, and she knew right away what he had come for; Chris wanted to win her back. Stephanie, however, had other plans in mind.

"Chris, whatever you've got planned, it's not going to work," she called through the door. "You made your choices and I made mine, and this is where we're at. Just accept it and move on so that I can do the same."

"Please, Steph?" he said, as if he hadn't registered a single word she had said. "I really need to talk to you and see your face. It's been too long."

"I can't right now. I'm working," she said.

Stephanie's stomach let out another low growl and she cringed, wishing her determined hunger away. Now she would never be able to make it to the vending machine without Chris encroaching on her territory, and she had not a single ounce of food in her office, so she was stuck. She could either go out and confront Chris, or she could wait it out in her office, hoping he would eventual tire and leave. The more perceptive part of her knew that wasn't true, though. Chris wasn't leaving without putting up a fight, but his efforts would be wasted.

"I'd really like to have a private conversation with you instead of yelling through a door," Chris said. This time, there was a sense of urgency to his words. "Can you let me in, please?"

"Go away!" Stephanie shouted.

She crossed the room and returned to her seat, scooting up to her desk and slipping her glasses back over her eyes. In the middle of typing some numbers into a spreadsheet, a project due in her father's e-mail inbox before lunchtime, a solid series of knocks sent a shocked jolt through her body, and she let out a low whine. Apparently, being left to her own devices was too much to ask, but either way, Chris wasn't leaving until she spoke to him first, so she ran her fingers through her hair out of habit. It wasn't until after she had done it that she realized she no longer had to make an effort to look good for this man. He had left her and, now, she was returning the favor by leaving him.

Stephanie turned the lock and opened her door a crack, only poking her head out. Chris let out a long breath and smiled, actually bared his teeth, as if she were supposed to return the gesture. He held a large bouquet of what she guessed were at least two dozen red roses, and in his other hand, he held the unfinished box of chocolates she had left at his house. His fingers were curled around the strings from a cluster of five helium balloons, each of which displayed the only three words she ever wanted to hear from Chris: I love you. Tied to the end of the balloon strings was the diamond ring Chris had bought her as a token of his love — the same ring she had left on his coffee table.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"To talk to you. Can I come inside?"

"Why?" she demanded. Chris thrust his foot in the open doorway, trying to maneuver his way inside, and she shot him a glare icy enough to make him rethink his decision. He backed away, dropping his shoulders like a little boy who had just been denied ice cream. "We do this every time. Every single time, Chris. You ignore me while we're a couple, I get fed up and leave, you go out and buy me flowers and come to win me back, we get back together, then you go back to ignoring me again after a little while. It's the same formula over and over, but it's not going to work anymore. Roses can't always fix everything."

"Don't you want to work this out, babe? Aren't I worth it?" Chris asked, flashing her those droopy blue eyes that always played a significant role in winning her back. She looked away, not wanting to let him win. He always won, and she was the person forced into losing. Enough was enough.

"I'm more concerned with what I'm worth. Can you please leave?" she said. "You're interrupting my work day, and this isn't really the time or the place. Not to mention, you're airing our dirty laundry for all of my coworkers to see, and I don't appreciate that, either. You don't bring personal issues to my job."

Chris happened to glance behind himself and caught a small group of people watching them intently. His frame shrank, and he shrugged guiltily. "I'm sorry, but people can talk if they want to. I don't mean to upset you for coming here, but this was the only thing that felt right, and if people want to watch, let them. I don't really care, as long as there's a way for me to get you back."

"There's not. Are you listening to me at all?" Stephanie said, shaking her head when she remembered who she was speaking to. "Of course you're not actually listening. All you're concerned about is running your own little selfish agenda."

His face dropped. "Why are you being so cold to me?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes and guffawed, all at the same time. She crossed her arms and began tapping her right foot against the floor, a light clapping sound accompanying the action. "You left me, Chris, not the other way around. I got sick of being by myself so I flew back to Connecticut, because there's no point to living in Florida if you're not going to be there with me."

"Is that so?" Chris asked, arching both eyebrows.

"Yeah, that's so. Tampa is hot, humid, and sticky, and I hate it there, but I was willing to pick up and move away from the only place I've called home since I was a little girl, because I thought we were going to be together in Florida," Stephanie said. Her volume had grown the more passionate she became, but when an employee from the marketing department strolled by, she bit down on her lip and stayed silent until he disappeared around the corner. "I can't talk now."

"Steph, please?" Chris said. He jutted out his bottom lip, and no matter how furious she was with him, Stephanie couldn't turn him away when he was making such a sweet face. Something told her he knew that, which was why he pulled out the big guns whenever he felt he was fighting a losing battle. "I need you."

"I needed you, too, but you left me by myself."

"Then give me a chance to make it right," he begged.

"You've already had chances," Stephanie replied. She sighed heavily and swiped her palm across her forehead. "You're stressing me out."

"I'm not trying to," Chris said, scratching his cheek with his thumbnail, using the hand holding the balloons. They bobbed around freely in the air, not quite touching the ceiling all the way. "Is it almost time for your lunch break? Can I take you out somewhere?"

"I can't leave yet. I have a spreadsheet thing that my dad needs me to complete before I can go get food," she said. When another company employee passed, peering at them curiously during his walk down the hallway, Stephanie made up her mind. She wasn't going to leave Chris in the great wide open and have people talking even more than they probably already were, so she tugged the door open the remainder of the way and yanked at his arm. "Come in, I guess."

"Thank you so much. You won't regret this," Chris said.

Stephanie wasn't entirely convinced of that fact, but she kept quiet and perched herself on the front of her desk. Chris went over to hand her the roses, and she thanked him, laying them on her desk, next to the plaque that bore her name. He placed the chocolates down on the opposite corner of her desk and brought the balloon bundle over, reaching for Stephanie's hand. He exposed her ring finger and slipped on the ring that was still attached to the balloon strings, all while the assorted balloons hovered overhead, creating an indoor rainbow effect.

"It hurt me that you left your ring behind. I got home and saw it sitting there on the table," Chris said, doodling over her ring finger with his thumb, just above the spot where the ring sat. Stephanie said nothing, mostly because she was at a loss for words, and Chris brought his other hand up to her right cheek and caressed her face with his thumb. "I thought about you the whole time I was gone. You think I forget you, but I never do. You're always on my mind, and I do love you a whole lot, Steph. I'm not sure why you think I don't."

She stared down at her shoes and Chris gave her hand a supportive squeeze. Knowing what Chris felt for her wasn't enough. Sure, she knew he loved her, but she needed it to shine through his actions, and as of late, his efforts had fallen short. "It's not that I don't think you love me; I know you do. I just want an attentive boyfriend, and you don't do that for me anymore. We were happy together in the beginning, but that was when you were still wrestling a full-time schedule. You were always here, and we spent almost all of our time together. Now, I barely ever see you."

"Only because I'm on tour with Fozzy," Chris pointed out. When she picked her head up, he searched for her eyes and didn't speak again until she met his gaze. "You promised you would always support me and my dreams, and I asked you if it was okay for me to go on tour. What did you say?"

"I said yes."

"Exactly. You said yes, so I went, and now you're breaking up with me over it. How does that sound even remotely reasonable to you?"

"It's not that," Stephanie grunted, kicking at the floor. "That's not what's upsetting me and you know it."

"No, I don't. You're acting crazy right now."

"Oh my gosh," Stephanie muttered, snatching her hand violently away from his and turning her back.

She fumbled with the ring Chris had slipped onto her left ring finger and clawed it off, tossing the jewelry — and inadvertently the balloons — across the room. Chris slipped his hands onto her hips from behind, and in her weakened state, Stephanie fell against his chest, angry tears forming in her eyes. As much as she wanted to grab the balloons and tell him exactly where he could shove them, her heart longed for Chris. She wanted him close, but she couldn't handle the chore of struggling to keep him nearby.

"What is it?" he asked, leaning in close to her ear. His breath tickled the side of her neck. "Will you be honest and tell me what the deal is?"

"You're acting like my anger is unreasonable, but it's not. I broke things off in the past, but you were the one to come and get me back. You promised me last time that things would be different and that you would be here for me a lot more, but that's not the way it is. I'm fine with you chasing your other dreams and going on tour, but that doesn't mean you should leave and completely forget about me. In the entire two weeks that you were gone, doing concerts and appearances and radio shows, you called me three times. Three times in two weeks! I called you way more than that, and most of my calls went unanswered."

"I said I was sorry."

"But I don't want your apologies anymore. I want your attention!" she exclaimed, turning around in his arms. "Don't you get it, Chris? I'm in love with you, and I want you to put forth the effort to be with me. If you're not interested in doing that, then let me go right now so I can move on and find a man who will be willing to make me a top priority in his life! It would hurt me to know that we're over for good, but I would rather you be honest than to keep stringing me along like this. It's pure torture!"

She saw the hurt in his eyes, the pain he wore on his face, and it was a relief. Stephanie didn't want Chris to hurt, per se, but to finally see some sort of emotion from him served as proof that he still cared. The only problem was, she had already partly made up her mind that their relationship was one that couldn't be saved. She was pulled from the distraction of her thoughts when Chris swiped his thumb over her cheek, wiping a stray tear that had managed to fall. He leaned forward and peppered her face with soft kisses, bumping the tip of his nose lightly into hers. Stephanie's lips fell into an easy smile.

"I never wanted to make you feel that way," Chris admitted. He looked heartsick and broken — as broken as Stephanie felt inside. Chris pulled her into a hug, and she hugged him back, without hesitation. "I thought you understood how busy I was, but if you need me to pay more attention and call you more while I'm gone, I can do that. I want us to be together, and when I got home and saw that you weren't there, I felt like shit. I don't want to live without you. My life isn't worth anything if I don't have you in it."

"You don't act like you care," Stephanie mumbled into his shoulder. "I try to call and talk to you all the time, but you're always busy. Have you been talking to other women?"

"No, never," Chris said, pulling away slightly, only far enough to look her in the eye. "There's no one else at all. I just get so busy and overwhelmed with all the stuff I have to do for Fozzy and my podcast and everything, but that's no excuse for not paying attention to my own girlfriend." He hid his face in the crook of her neck. "I wish I could have another chance. I know I could be better to you, and better for you. Please let me make it up to you, babe. I don't want to go without you."

"I already said I wouldn't do this," Stephanie said, pressing her eyes shut as her hands fell to rest on his back. "I said I was breaking up with you for good this time. If we get back together and this turns into the same thing all over again, we're going to be done, and next time will be permanent. I mean it, Chris. I'm getting older, and I'm looking to settle down with someone, and even though I would love for that special someone to be you, I need some kind of proof that you're in this for the long haul. If you don't want marriage or a long-term relationship, be honest with me now and we'll end this. I don't want to end it, because my heart would always be broken if I lost you, but that would be better than being led on."

"I'm not leading you on," Chris said. He kissed her neck twice and pulled away. "This time, I'm going to prove to you that I'm husband material. You'll see a completely new side of me, I swear it. Give me one more chance?"

"Just one more chance," Stephanie said. "Please don't blow it."

"I wouldn't dream of it."