There had been other moments, over the years, when thoughts of Emma invaded. As we hopped around Boston, their quartet came to quite a few shows. We started hanging out at the Jolly Roger on off nights and got to be friends. It was usually just Milah and me, the other guys in the band more interested in the local strip joints. We got into a rhythm, playing darts, drinking, just being friends. About six months into our stint in Boston, the band decided it was time to head to LA. I decided I wasn't quite ready for LA, preferring the Boston scene.

Besides, the guys in the band were rather lecherous. In the time I had spent hanging out in Boston, I felt it might be the possibility of home. I was tired of hopping from bar to bar singing for pennies. I wanted something different, something more stable.

I left the band, or rather they left me, and life sort of happened. I ended up teaching music at a local community center. I had a lot of fun working with the kids, helping them hone skills or develop new ones. I occasionally missed the stage, but I truly enjoyed watching my students play instead.

When David and Mary Margaret got engaged a year prior, I started thinking about my relationship with Milah. She had stuck around after the band left, and I felt closer to her. I thought about proposing a number of times, but each time I would wander to a jewelry store, I found myself wondering what Emma would want in a ring. Knowing that was not the way to go about things, I usually walked right back out of the store. When Neal proposed to Emma, I stopped even going into jewelry stores.

The weird thing was, Milah never hinted or commented at all about us getting married. She seemed to be happy working as a waitress at a diner down the street from the bar. She occasionally grumbled about missing the music scene and New York, but she seemed happy, sort of. It wasn't until that night at the Jolly Roger that I realized she had been just as unhappy as I had. I decided to give her a call.

"Killian?" she answered.

I wasn't quite sure what I was going to say, but I felt something needed to be said. "Hey, Mi," I said. It came out gruff. "How's New York?" I asked her.

"What do you want, Killian?" she asked, wary of my call.

I sighed. The call might go down as one of my stupidest moves ever. "I just called to say that…" I stopped. Why was I the one saying this? "Well, I'm sorry." She was quiet on the other end. I heard her talking to someone else and then a door closed.

"Why are you sorry?" she asked.

I let out a huge sigh and just bit the bullet. "Because I dragged this out longer than I should have. I should have left you in New York, but only because you would've been happier. I didn't want things to end like this. After all this time, I do care about you."

She was silent again. I could just see her standing against a wall, twirling her hair, trying to figure out what to say.

"Look, I'm sorry I called. I just, well, I just wanted to say that. I'll let you go." I started to hang up.

"Killian, wait. I'm sorry, too. I know you weren't happy. When I knew there was something between Neal and me, well, I should have done something. I let it go, and things just got way out of hand. I didn't want you to find out like that. Well, sort of."

"Sort of?" I asked.

"I didn't know how to tell you. I guess it was easier to get caught than to confess."

I laughed into the phone. "Yeah, I guess that's one way to handle it."

"I'm glad you called. I've been wanting to call you, but I just couldn't do it," she said, sounding sincere. "I care about you, too. I just want you to be happy."

Somehow I didn't think that was in my cards. "Thanks, Mi. Take care of yourself down there."

"I will. Take care yourself, bud." And she was gone.