Pehea wau i ʻike ai i kou makuahine

Based on the characters and stories of Hawaii Five-0.

Hawaii Five-0 is owned by CBS and their respective creators.


Catherine stood on the rocky shoreline of Magic Island. The last time she had been there, she thought things with Steve were over.

Mangosta. Doris. Roller Derby. It came back in a flood of memories.

It seemed like a lifetime ago.

February had rolled around and the seventy-five and sunny weather of O'ahu was a welcomed change from the frigid European temperatures she had been battling for the better part of a year.

All the cards were on the table. Nothing held back. It was finally time.

The soft linen of her red sundress danced across the top of her sandals as the breeze blew off the water. The growl of a pickup truck echoed over the beach, the engine silencing as a door slammed shut.

Catherine turned, her hair feathering around her creamy skin. The red dress flowed behind her like fire blazing in the wind. The gold anchor necklace laid just above her heart. She locked eyes with him and in an instant, her pulse neared nuclear. "Hey, Sailor."

The walk from the truck to the rock jetty seemed endless. Steve couldn't get to her fast enough. His feet picked up speed as he pushed through the sand.

But the beach kept expanding. Drawing her further into the sea, pushing him back into the heart of the island.

"Cath! Come on!" He shouted as he struggled against the invisible forces. "You promised! We don't make promises we can't keep! Remember?"

Mountains sprung up between them. Cliffs and valleys dared them to try to reach one another. But they were too tall to climb. She couldn't do it alone.

"Catherine!"

She heard him shouting her name, but he was nowhere to be found. A gust of wind knocked her into the raging ocean, submerging her to inescapable depths. Catherine kicked and pushed, but there was no escaping the water. No getting back to him.

Steve was gone and she was trapped.


"Oh my God." Catherine snapped awake, clutching her chest, gasping for breath. Her pulse raced. Sweat beaded on her forehead as her eyes darted around the room. It had all felt so real, so vivid. She held her breath before slowly exhaling for four long seconds.

She rolled over and closed her eyes. The clock on the bedside table mocked her. The digital screen flashed a contemptuous date.

February 1, 2020.

Catherine was supposed to be in Hawaii. She was supposed to be with Steve, running into the safety of his arms. She was supposed to be kissing him, murmuring how much she loved him as his fingers tangled in her hair, drawing her close.

She was supposed to be walking away from the danger, from the secrets. She was supposed to be done. Instead, she was holed up in a crash pad in Oberrieden, Switzerland, not-so-patiently waiting for the all-clear.

Going dark was more unpleasant than it sounded, especially when you were completely alone. No phone, no internet, not even her trusty e-reader. And whoever had outfitted the space had terrible taste in books. Even still, Catherine had muddled through reading them all just to stave off boredom.

Coen hadn't been heard from since she fled the safe house in Chechnya. Hopefully since he hadn't been compromised, he was working to capture Basayev and recover any intel or devices he seized.

Catherine squeezed her eyes shut as tears pricked at her lids, threatening to spill down her cheeks. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be at all.


Steve's foot bounced against the hardwood floors. Anxious didn't even begin to cover it, and it wasn't just because Eddie had gone berserk earlier in the day and ran into four lanes of traffic.

He was crushed. Angry. Hurt. Resentful.

Worried.

Terrified.

Why didn't she show up? That was something they had always guaranteed each other- that they didn't make promises they couldn't keep. He trusted her. He believed her. Damn it! He had believed her when she promised him that she'd show up on that damn beach.

Was it because of the NOC list that had been stolen? Had Catherine's name been on it? Had it gotten out? Steve had done everything he could to protect it. What if it wasn't enough?

He had tried calling her a hundred times since they were supposed to meet, but all he got from her was radio silence.

Steve stretched out on the couch and tried to relax, tried to close his eyes, but the silence was deafening.

Ever since Doris had died, nothing felt the same. It was interesting, really. She had been out of his life for so long that when it happened, he was left reeling- half out of the shock of her death, half out of the shock of how much it wrecked him. He hadn't been expecting to feel the overwhelming weight of grief that had crushed him. Doris had always been flighty. But at the end of the day, even if she had been more out than in, she was still his mother. That counted for something, right?

Mary had barely reacted at all to the news of their mother's death. It scared him how eerily quiet she had been on the phone. How little she said. Mary apologized for not being able to make it out to the island for the private funeral, but said she would be there to see him whenever she had a break in her schedule.

Since when was Mary the stable, level headed one?

Steve's mind went back to Catherine. Should he wait? Wait to see if she had gotten delayed? Wait to see if she was just wrapping up at Langley and her debrief had gone a few days longer than she planned?

Hurt boiled back into anger. Did Catherine just expect him to wait around? What if he was done waiting?


Journal #17
Zurich, Switzerland

I took a chance today. I broke the rules.

Congratulations, Central Intelligence Agency, you turned the rigid, rule-obsessed Naval officer into a covert operative who is fresh out of fucks to give.

I left the crash pad in Oberrieden and traveled to Zurich. Sure, it's like twenty minutes from the crash pad, but still. I left and took a big chance that Doris wasn't screwing with me.

For some reason, I kept the cipher she slipped me in my coat pocket. When I fled the safe house, it was the only personal item I had outside of my go bag. It took me days, but I sat and worked on that damn thing until I figured it out. Apparently I've gotten a little lax in my cryptology skills and got a little too comfortable with relying on a computer program. Cracking it by hand was a challenge and damn if I didn't love it.

The cipher led me to a key and instructions for accessing a safety deposit box at a bank in Zurich.

Doris McGarrett is an anomaly. Everything that woman ever does is done to protect people. Whether it was her kids and her husband, the United States, other operatives, or herself- she always has both eyes open. Watching.

A long time ago, she stored a microfiche in the floorboards of Steve's house. Un-redacted action reports, agent names- lots of intel that would have the company up in arms if it ever got out.

This time, she protected me.

I spent a little time digging through everything she put in the box, but I didn't stay too long. Basayev probably has people out looking for me, and they won't hesitate to shoot to kill. I did take one thing, though- a letter addressed to both me and Steve.

Once I got back to the crash pad, I spent a good two hours staring at it, contemplating whether or not to open it. I mean, it has my name on it- I can open it without him, right?

Apparently my conscience has qualms with that thought process because I can't bring myself to do it. Not without him. Especially since I missed our meet window.

Why did I even let myself think I could have a happily ever after? Who knows if he'll even talk to me ever again? All I know is that I'll never forgive myself for letting either of us hope that we might have a shot at being together.

And then there's Basayev- fuck him. I've never not completed an assignment and if I don't get him, I know I'll be haunted by it for the rest of my life.


The pounding on the door startled Catherine out of her sleep. Her neck muscles screamed at her as she jumped out of the chair by the fireplace that she had fallen asleep in and made a leap for her gun.

No one was supposed to know where she was.

Her heart leapt into her throat as the knocking quieted. Slowly, she crept to the door and peered through the peephole into the night.

Catherine's shoulders immediately slumped. Oh for fuck's sake. He should have a fucking key. She whipped open the door and braced her hands between the knob and the frame, blocking the weasel from entering. "How nice of you to show up, Coen. Thanks for BAILING and doing absolutely nothing when I got made and had to hide out here for MONTHS." Coen attempted to bypass her and enter the house, but she wasn't having any of it, "Let me make this clear: you left in September and it's…." She paused to look at the date on that damn digital clock. "It's the fucking end of March! I've been in this house for months!"

"Would you like me to tell you why I'm here or are you going to keep screaming things that can get us both shot since you insist on having it out with me in the doorway?" Coen sighed as if visiting her was an inconvenience to his busy schedule. "Two things and then I'll be out of your hair, Rollins." He huffed.

She cocked her hip and raised a threatening eyebrow. "What."

"I have Basayev in custody. We can get you stateside."

Catherine's mouth dropped. "What?"

Coen rolled his eyes, "You're getting on a plane and going back to Langley. You can either re-up or process out after your debrief. I've gotta stay here and clean up your mess." He snapped.

"What's the other thing?"

He pulled a file from his satchel and handed it over, "Your travel arrangements and, uh, something else I thought you might like to read on the plane." And with that, Andrew Coen disappeared into the darkness.


The rules were simple. No contact with the outside world until after debrief. Go straight to Langley and absolutely nowhere else. Don't talk to anyone. Hell, don't even think about anyone until you've been cleared.

There was something about that file in her hand that sent chills up her spine. Catherine was familiar with the black and white blocks of a partially redacted action report. Hell, her name was on more than a few of them. It was probably just something Coen passed on to get under her skin. That's why she didn't bother opening it on the plane. If he was staying in Europe, there was no reason for her to read something that might piss her off enough to skip out on boarding the plane for D.C.. No. She was going home. Fuck Coen.

She had a plan. Go to Langley. Debrief. Process out. Clean out her locker. Pack up her house. Contemplate flying to Hawaii. It had been almost two months since she was supposed to meet him at Magic Island. Even if she called, would he want to talk to her? Had he moved on like he did after she left the first time?

Catherine hadn't even bothered changing out of her travel clothes. She wanted the debriefing to be done as fast as humanly possible. Luckily, the agency was on her side when it came to expediting the process. It would only take a few days and she'd be able to sleep in her own bed that night. Director Haspel herself had stepped into the conference room and shook Catherine's hand. She apologized for the events that led to Catherine joining the agency and offered her personal thanks for the good work that she had done over the years.

Lugging the contents of her locker out of the taxi, Catherine paid the driver and dragged her legs up to the front door of her Manassas house. Exhausted didn't even begin to cover it. She fished around in the bushes until she found her spare key and let herself inside.

The house was musty but tidy. Everything was just as she had left it a long fucking time ago. She slumped against the kitchen table and closed her eyes. She was home. Unlike the silence of the safe house in Chechnya or the crash pad in Switzerland, the quiet here soothed her.

The ringing of the landline pierced through the deadness.

Catherine went to snatch the phone off the wall and yell at whoever had the nerve to call her, but the stipulation that she was not to have any contact with anyone rang in her mind. Then again, there were only a handful of people who had the number for the landline- her realtor, Jude, Caroline, and Decker, and her mother. Steve didn't even have that number.

"Hello?" She answered timidly.

"Lieutenant Rollins?" The voice on the other end of the line asked, "This is Gunnery Sergeant Lincoln Cole. I hope I have the right number. I apologize if you're not who I'm looking for."

Lincoln Cole. It sounded so familiar. Catherine hesitated, "Speaking." She finally croaked out.

"Ma'am, I don't know if you remember me, but you helped my team out years ago working through some intel requests for us for a joint mission between the Marines and the Navy."

That's where she knew that name from, "Of course, what, um… Actually, can I ask who you got this number from?"

Lincoln chuckled, "You're not an easy woman to find, Lieutenant Rollins. I tried the number I had of yours from years ago, but it was disconnected. I went back and called up my old commanding officer. He asked around about you and heard you were with the agency. A, uh, an acquaintance of mine from the Marines is CIA now and happened to have this number. He said it was a long shot that you'd answer, but I figured it was worth a try."

A smile flickered at Catherine's mouth. She hadn't talked to Jude since she left the black site in Afghanistan. Truthfully, she missed him like hell and needed to track him down, to tell him she was okay. To make sure that he was okay. "Would that acquaintance happen to be Jude Beckett?"

"Yes, ma'am." Lincoln cleared his throat, "I hate to cut this short, but I could really use your help."

"What can I do for you?"

She heard him take a deep breath, "I'm working in conjunction with the Hawaii Five-0 task force at the moment. We have a piece of intel that needs decrypting and it's on one hell of a clock."

Catherine felt as though she had been shot. "Does Commander McGarrett know you reached out to me?"

"No, ma'am. The situation here is… volatile. I thought it best to ask forgiveness, not permission."

Spoken like someone who had been around Steve for more than five minutes, Catherine snickered to herself. She rattled off her email address and told him to send it over, that she'd look at it and do what she could. Catherine hung up the phone and bolted into her bedroom. She grabbed the laptop that sat on her desk and blew off the thick coating of dust.

Sure enough, Lincoln had sent over a photo of a cipher. There was something oddly familiar about it, Catherine thought. Something that she had seen before.

The repetition of the letters and the numbers sang a siren song to her as if they were unlocking a deep-seated clue in her brain. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out her journal where she had stashed the cipher and decryption that Doris had slipped her.

Fucking shit.

Catherine didn't even have to open her decryption program to know that the key was the same for both. What the hell had Doris done? Working quickly, she verified her theory and sent the results back to Lincoln.

The clock said it was just past midnight, but Catherine couldn't sleep. Tossing and turning was just making her antsy. There was something about the way that Lincoln had described things in Hawaii as "volatile" that put her on edge. Her bare feet hit the floor as she padded over to her open laptop and squinted into the bright screen. Lincoln had left his number at the bottom of the first email he sent and the new phone she had stopped to get on her way home from Langley was just begging to be used.

Rules be damned.

After a few infuriating minutes of setting up the damn thing, she fired off a text to Lincoln.

Catherine: Was my intel good? -Rollins

Lincoln: Good copy. I owe you big time.

Catherine: Keep this just between us for now.

Lincoln: Copy that. You should know, Commander McGarrett is leaving the island soon.

Catherine: Thanks, Cole.

She stared at the warning he had sent. The commander is leaving the island soon? What the hell did that mean? Was Steve in danger? Was he tracking Doris down? Should she call him and tell him that Doris is in Mexico?

The file folder caught her attention. She pulled it out of her bag and flipped it open. The scribbled signature at the bottom was unmistakable. No doubt about it- it was Steve's. She'd seen that signature at the bottom of intel reports more times than she could remember. The curving S and the hard-cut M were clear as day.

Catherine scanned the rest of the document. Most of it was redacted, but she caught one mention of "Shelburne" and her blood ran cold. Quickly, she flipped through the rest of the pages, the last one being a death certificate.

Doris was dead.

The file dropped from her hands, the pages spilling out across the floor as she gasped. Doris was dead and Steve was leaving Hawaii. He was going off the grid. Her fingers flew across the keys. You can take the officer out of intel, but you can't make her forget how to hack like a pro.

Steve was booked on a flight out of Honolulu in four days. She quickly did the math and scanned flights out of D.C., maybe even going above and beyond to hack the ticketing system and secure herself an exit row seat with a little extra leg room.

She'd make it.

If everything went to plan, which it rarely did, she'd make it.


Luck had been on her side. Debrief wrapped up right on time. There were no flight delays, no bad weather, and no annoying seatmates. That was supposed to be a good thing, right? Catherine paced just outside of the gate for her flight from Honolulu to Missoula, Montana. Why hadn't she just called him? Being turned down over the phone would be a hell of a lot less embarrassing than being stuck on an eight hour flight beside someone who hated her.

But that was just it. She had missed their meet-up in February. Catherine knew Steve- once bitten, twice as shy. And she'd bitten him thousands of times. He'd be a fool to give her the time of day in any form except in person where she could look him in the eye and tell him that she wasn't running. That she wasn't going anywhere. That she was staying and fighting like hell for him.

If Steve told her to get lost, could she really blame him? From his perspective, she'd stood him up months ago. She had been the one who left years ago. She'd been the one to walk out on him.

But she had to try. She had to get peace. Closure. And maybe, just maybe, he'd ask her to stay.

There he was.

Catherine felt all of the oxygen get sucked out of the airport as Steve walked through the gate and stood in line to board. She dipped back into the shadow of a pillar, just out of sight, but not drawing attention to herself by diving behind a chair to hide as Steve scanned his ticket and disappeared into the jet bridge.

Now or never.


The high-pitched whirring of the jet engines pierced his ears as Steve walked onto the plane. He shuffled through the aisle, searching for his seat. He had forgotten how crowded civilian flights were. 14 A - he spotted the empty chair and shoved his duffel bag into the overhead compartment before slipping into the seat next to the window.

The aisle seat was surprisingly empty. He was one of the last passengers in line to board and was hopeful that he would have a little extra elbow room for the next eight hours. Steve staggered in between his seat and the chair in front of him and sat down. He nervously wiped his palms on his jeans. Frankly, it had been a while since he had gone anywhere just for the hell of it. The last few trips he had been on ended tragically - Joe White and Doris were both dead.

It was slightly selfish, he thought: leaving the team indefinitely, but after twenty years of dodging bullets in the military and Five-0, a little downtime was long overdue.

Steve's phone pinged.

Danny: Miss you already.

Somehow he knew Danny would be okay. As much as he would miss his better half, he knew that Danny had always adapted and thrived when he was away. Regardless, his concern brought a smile to Steve's face.

It wasn't an emotion that he had felt in quite some time: Contentment. It was that sweet spot between happiness and peace. He was usually just on the verge of surviving. Steve glanced out the window and watched as the ground crew finished their final tasks. The sun was setting over the Honolulu airport, and he felt that it was fitting. Steve didn't know what lied ahead for him, but he knew that he was ready.

"This seat taken?" A sweet, feminine voice cut through the hustle and bustle of the airplane.

Steve glanced up to greet his seat mate. He looked up again. It had to be a dream. Right? He didn't dare move - Steve didn't want to wake from the dream. He looked around and then looked back at her face. It had been over a year since he said goodbye to her after their mission to hunt down Greer. Her hair was longer, she had a few more lines around her eyes, but the spark in them was the same fire he had admired for two decades.

"Catherine." He wasn't quite sure if it was a statement or a question. He whispered her name as if not to startle her.

"Hey, Sailor." She smiled nervously, shifting from one foot to the other.

Steve paused as he slowly began to realize the events of the past week and her standing in front of him were connected, "It was you?" His brow furrowed, "You cracked that cipher?"

"Mhmm." A mix of pride and honor flashed through her eyes as she nodded. "Lincoln, uh… got a hold of me. Said you guys needed some help. So… yeah."

Steve glanced down at his shoes. The shock was slowly wearing off and he was attempting to subdue a smile, "He's a good man."

"Well, he must be - I mean you gave him the keys to Danno's car." She laughed quietly.

"Well, I mean, we can't have Danny Williams driving his own car." He quipped dryly.

"Like he ever did." She smiled.

A grin crossed Steve's face. He didn't even try to hide it. He was done hiding. The last decade had worn him down to a shell of a man. He was done surviving. It was time to live.

"You gonna sit down?" He nodded towards the empty seat beside him.

"Mhm." She smiled as she slipped into the chair beside him. Butterflies filled her stomach as she caught the fragrance of his cologne. Home. He smelled like home. Steve was home.

Catherine slid her bag underneath the seat in front of her as the Fasten Seatbelt Sign blinked on. She and Steve clicked the restraints across their laps and simultaneously exhaled all of their nerves and jitters. They looked over at each other, examining the wear and tear that the last year had left on both of them.

"You ready?" Her voice was calming. Something about it always put him at ease.

He paused for a moment. Everything was changing. And this time? This time he wasn't fighting it. He was running headfirst towards the new beginning on the horizon.

His voice was hoarse with age and exhaustion, but full of the same resolve she had always known. "Yeah."

A smile flickered across her lips. She hadn't been quite sure how he was going to react to seeing her again, but somehow, she knew that this was where she was supposed to be.

He opened his hand and offered it to her. She slipped her palm into his and wrapped her fingers around his hand. Steve gave it a gentle squeeze before smiling at her. A familiar fluttering of nervous butterflies filled his stomach. He glanced out the window as the plane began to pull away from the gate and smiled.

Steve smiled.

All the pain, all the heartache, all the hurt and fear of the last twenty years. It was all worth it.

His mind went back to the hospital chapel at Tripler. He had never been quite sure if the conversation had been a hallucination or not, but whether it was a dream or reality, the words had stuck with him:

"What we do can't be quantified. Your worth is measured in the closure you bring, the people you save. That's your real legacy. And the best legacy a man can leave behind is the people whose lives have been changed."

That's why Steve smiled. The old man had been right. He had been giving closure and changing lives. It was about damn time he did that for himself.

And he was ready.


AUTHOR'S NOTE

I love you all. Leave your thoughts and comments in the reviews!

FINAL Q AND A

1. Is there a part of the story you wrote that you would change now if you could? Anything big or small? No. I set out to write a story that encompassed Steve and Catherine's entire relationship and I accomplished just that! I strive to tell authentic stories about dynamic people. Sometimes that means characters misbehave. Sometimes it means that the characters make choices that makes the story take turns that makes it difficult to write. Am I a perfect writer? Hell no! Did I do my best to tell Steve and Catherine's story? I believe I did and I stand by my work.

2. Can you pronounce the full title? I'm so disappointed in myself that I can't! When I'm talking to Mr. Mags about it, I either call it "Pehea" or "How I Met Your Mother". The document I write in on my computer is saved as "Jenny Feldman".

3. From your point of view, when Steve asked Catherine if she was happy doing what she was doing when she was getting ready to board the plane in Morocco, was he fishing for a reason to call in a favor with Haspel and get her out? I think Steve was genuinely curious. I don't think it was so much "could he get her out" as it was him asking if she was fulfilled. If she was content. And I think that leads back to the greater theme of love. He loved her even though she had taken a path that neither of them expected.

4. Out of all the things Steve and Catherine have been through, which one is your favorite to write/watch? Oh goodness. The show has too many moments to choose from. (All of them?) Some of my favorite things to write through have been Morocco, finding out that Steve took care of Kelly Hart for years, their first kiss at the Rollins' house in Texas, the Army-Navy gala, and all of Montana.

5. How did you and Mr. Mags meet? We met when we were in college. I was dating a guy who lived in his dorm and we met through him. Things ended with that guy (rather badly) and Mr. Mags and I started talking and hanging out after that!

6. Will you release your outline/timeline? If you follow me on Twitter and Instagram, look for it there!

7. What were your most-listened to "McRoll" songs for this story?

Everglow by Coldplay
Honey Leave the Light on by Kristin Diable
All for One Ohana by Five for Fighting
Love and Hate by Kelsea Ballerini
Fire Away by Chris Stapleton
Grace has a Gun by Katie Pruitt
Hold on to Me by Valerie Broussard
Run to You by Ocie Elliott
Before You Go by Lewis Capaldi
I'm Never Getting Over You by Gone West
When to Say Goodbye by Gone West
Stone Cold by Demi Lovato
Tell Me You Love Me by Demi Lovato
A Little Too Much by Shawn Mendes
What Could've Been by Gone West
Waves by Dean Lewis
Comeback by The Jonas Brothers
Inside of Love by Nada Surf
Don't Wanna Write This Song by Brett Young
Chapters by Brett Young Ft. Gavin DeGraw
Catch by Brett Young
I Was Here by Beyonce
Mercy by Brett Young
The Hardest Thing by Tyler Ward
Fix You by Coldplay
Even Though I'm Leaving by Luke Combs
Change Your Name by Brett Young
Chasin' You by Morgan Wallen
Unlove You by Jennifer Nettles
Drowning by Chris Young
Your Body Is A Wonderland by Taylor Acorn and David Ryan
Truthfully by DNCE
Naked by Jake Scott
I Heard Goodbye by Dan + Shay
Forever To Go by Chase Rice
To a T by Ryan Hurd
Messy by Chase Rice
This Is Me Trying by Taylor Swift
Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift
Tuesdays by Jake Scott
She by Jake Scott
Working for You by Jake Scott
2016 by Sam Hunt
The Bones by Maren Morris
Tequila by Dan + Shay
Lady Like by Ingrid Andress
Good Riddance by Boyce Avenue
Banks by NEEDTOBREATE
To Hell and Back by Maren Morris
A Song For Everything by Maren Morris
Great Ones by Maren Morris
Second Wind by Maren Morris
Graveyard by Halsey
Ruin the Friendship by Demi Lovato
Just for Now by Maren Morris
Oh Darlin' by Kawika Young
The Most Beautiful Things by Tenille Townes
Till There's Nothing Left by Cam
Where We Left Off by Hunter Hayes
For You by Keith Urban
Comatose by Sod Ven
Make You Feel My Love by JJ Heller
Bottom of a Heartbreak by NEEDTOBREATHE
Criminal by Ringside
Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls
What Do You Think Of by Lauren Alaina Ft. Lukas Graham
Jericho by Andrew Ripp
Heart Shaped Wreckage by Katherine McPhee and Jeremy Jordan
Soldiers by Rachel Platten
Seen You in Your Hometown by Lauren Alaina
The Stranger by Ingrid Andress
Both by Ingrid Andress
We're Not Friends by Ingrid Andress
Anything But Love by Ingrid Andress
Looks Like Love by NEEDTOBREATHE
Way Down We Go by KALEO
Cover Me Up by Morgan Wallen
Feeling Things by Ingrid Andress
Dance With Me by Morgan Evans Ft. Kelsea Ballerini
Reborn by Sod Ven
Forgetting You by Cam
Cardigan by Taylor Swift
The 1 by Taylor Swift
Seven by Taylor Swift
Rainbow by Kacey Musgraves
When a Heart Breaks by Ben Rector
A Safe Place To Land by Sara Bareilles Ft. John Legend
Like A Movie by Cam
Smoke by Maddie and Tae
Changes by Cam
Leave a Light On by Tom Walker
Love Me Anyway by P!nk Ft. Chris Stapleton
Pray by Dierks Bentley
Say Something by Justin Timberlake Ft. Chris Stapleton
Ocean by Lady A
Photograph by Ed Sheeran


KEEP READING FOR THE EPILOGUE!

XO,

-Mags-


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