Hello! I'm back. This is just the first chapter, and I didn't name the names of the people on purpose. See if you can guess who it is. Please review and make me feel better, because I am not having a good day. I just got back from my Western Civ class where I had fallen asleep. Oops. The worst was I was near the front so the professor definitely saw. Oh well. The song is by Train. Review!

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

She had cried when she told him that she couldn't do it anymore. At least she had the decency to look upset about it. She had sat on the chair, and buried her face in her hands and sobbed so hard that he thought that she would break. And his heart broke watching her, against his will. He didn't want to have this overwhelming desire to go to her and pull her into his arms and tell her that he was wrong and he was sorry and whatever it was, whatever he had done he would fix. He would fix it for her. So that she would stay.

But he knew that offering her that wouldn't change anything. One foot was already out the door. Her bags had been packed and ready for weeks. He didn't tell her that he knew that. He didn't tell her that she sucked at hiding the suitcases, and that he had found them when he was looking for wrapping paper to wrap the birthday present that their son was going to take to his cousin's birthday party. He knew that she kept the wrapping paper in a plastic crate in the back of her closet, and he had been on hands and knees searching for the right color, it having to be boy enough that his son wouldn't be embarrassed taking it, but girl enough that his niece wouldn't pout to her mother that it was a boy's present. And good God, if she pouted to her mother, then her mother complained to his wife, and then he would have to hear about one more thing that he had messed up.

One more thing where he hadn't been good enough.

That's where he found the suitcases, sitting so innocently in the back behind the box of Christmas presents. She liked to get her shopping done early. The presents were already wrapped and ready for Christmas morning, which wouldn't be for another three months. It was one of the things that he loved about her. Still loved about her.

How long had her bags been packed? And were his son's bag packed too? His head spun and he had forgotten all about the wrapping paper. But he didn't say anything. He didn't say anything to her. He didn't let her know that he knew. He had held onto the hope that there was some kind of mistake. That maybe she would change her mind. He held onto that irrational hope until the day that she announced she was leaving.

It was on a Tuesday. It was raining. Somehow, it made sense that it was raining. It wouldn't have been right if it was sunny and beautiful out. It was like when he went to a funeral and it was a gorgeous day, and it just doesn't work. In his opinion, if he was going to feel like crap, then it should be crappy out.

"Where are you going?" He asked. He played dumb. Hoping that if he did, she would change her mind.

He was desperate for her to change her mind.

"I don't know."

"When are you going to be back?" She didn't answer, she just looked at him and he got it, he understood. She wasn't going to be back.

"I'm sorry," she said. She was sorry? She was sorry. Yet that wasn't stopping her from leaving was it?

"Why are you sorry?" He yelled back. "For leaving? Then don't leave!" It was a simple solution to him. If she felt that guilty about leaving, then it was easy, don't leave.

"Please," she pleaded. "Please understand." And the worst part was that he did. He did understand. Because he had flirted with the idea of leaving too. "It's not the same. It hasn't been the same in a long time."

He knew that she was right. It was killing him that she was right. It wasn't the same.

"What about our son?" He asked running a hand over his face.

"I'm going to take him with me," she said. He knew that she would. She loved him too much to leave him behind, and he loved her too much still to take him away from her.

"And what about me?"

"He'll still see you. We'll work something out." She was so sure of this. She was always so sure of everything. She had been sure about their marriage though, and hadn't that failed? Hadn't that gone wrong?

And whose fault was it really?

Was it his fault? Had he done something wrong?

Or was it her fault? He didn't want it to be her fault. But he was still at a loss as to who was to blame. Maybe no one was to blame. Maybe they just weren't meant to be.

That was terrifying thought. Because they had been perfect together. They had fit together. The two of them...it was just right. His best friend said it all the time. That the two of them were too much alike for their own good.

"Maybe that's what makes you work," he had said shrugging. Having never had a relationship that worked himself, he wasn't really sure of relationships and what made them tick.

But now everything was falling apart. She was leaving, taking his son, and he would be stuck there. In their old apartment haunted by the memories.

Alone.

If I could ride this slide into forever

What would I give to getaway

That pain that stayed

Seemed like forever

What would you give to getaway?

She moved to Chicago. Sent him a postcard of the Sears Tower. Sent him pictures of his son in various Chicago settings.

She had lied. They hadn't made it work. He hadn't seen his son since she had left him exactly 52 days before.

He had cried on the morning she left. She didn't. But he did. His son had clung to him.

"Daddy, aren't you coming?"

"No, kiddo. I'm not. It's just you and Mommy." The four-year-old's lip quivered and he looked from his mother to his father.

"But I want you to come too."

"I can't buddy."

"Why not?" Why not? It was the $64,000 question. Because she didn't want him to? Because they had somehow drifted apart, until they didn't even know one another anymore? But how to explain that to a little boy.

"It's grown-up reasons, kiddo," he had offered.

"Will I get to see you?"

"Of course."

"Will you come see us?"

"Sure." And before he could start crying, he picked up his little boy and kissed him one more time before handing him to his mother.

"I love you Daddy."

"Love you too buddy."

52 days. 1248 hours ago. His best friend Joey told him to cheer up.

"There's other fish in the sea," Joey had said. "There's another trolley just around the corner."

"I don't want a fish or a trolley," he told Joey. "I want her."

"Well, she's gone, and she's not coming back." It was the first time any of his friends had said that out loud. That she was gone. That she wasn't coming back. He had just been pretending that she had run out to the grocery store and she was just running a little late.

"I know that."

"Do you?"
"I do!"

"Then act like it. She's moving on with her life, dude, you need to move on with yours."

It was definitely easier said than done.

I know this is how I could be over you

You know this is not another waste of time

All this holding on can't be wrong

Just come back to me and I am not alone

Okay, so this is just the start. Can you guess who the guy is and who left him? Review and I'll let you know, I'm not above blackmail.