It was all so perfect.

Until it wasn't.

As Killian tuned his guitar prior to walking out onto the small stage, his mind wandered once again, back to the day when his life, for all intents and purposes, ended.

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"Don't lie to me, Killian!"

"I'm not lying to you, Swan! You're the only woman I love. I would never cheat on you!"

"I saw the pictures of you having sex with another woman!"

"There aren't any bloody pictures! How could there be pictures when I haven't been with anyone else?"

"You can't deny it was you in them! I might be stupid, but I can still identify the man who's supposed to be my boyfriend!"

"You're hardly stupid, which is why you should know I would never cheat on you. You always say you can tell when somebody is lying to you, so use your superpower now, Love."

"Don't ever call me that again! Love is built on trust and I can't trust you now, Killian. How can I?'

"Emma…"

Her voice, which had been nearly hysterical, dropped to a whisper and it cut through him more deeply than her shouting. "It's over, Killian. We're through."

Then she was gone, and he spent the next eight months trying to figure out how it all went wrong.

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He was three songs into his set when he made his usual announcement, unwilling or unable to change it, even though it always tore at his heart. "I wrote this song for the love of my life."

As he played the first chord, he wondered again why he chose to torture himself. She was never going to hear this song, no matter how many times he played it.

You are my dream

The sweetest I have ever known

My heart is in your hands

It's yours, no longer my own

I live for you

And the happiness you give me

You're everything and more

With you, I'm the best I can be

My beautiful love

Straight from heaven above

You helped me to see

Just how sweet love can be

How can I tell you

I love you more every day

I'll never be the same

Since you stole my heart away

With it in your hands

To protect it or to break

I need to know your choice

What decision will you make?

My beautiful love

Straight from heaven above

You helped me to see

Just how sweet love can be

My life's not the same

And your love is to blame

Our fate is in your control

Please don't crush my soul

My beautiful, beautiful love

My beautiful love

As his broken voice finished whispering the lyrics and the last notes faded away, greeted by a smattering of applause from the few people in the bar who were listening, he thought he was having a hallucination. Because she was there; her golden hair glowing in the dim lighting, giving her an ethereal quality which further convinced him she was a figment of his imagination.

He blinked several times and refocused his eyes on the same spot, shocked to see she was still there. He almost involuntarily took a step toward her, until he realized she wasn't alone. Neal fucking Cassidy was sitting beside her with his arm draped over her shoulders and an arrogant smirk on his face that said he won.

And that's when it clicked.

EKEKEKEKEKEK

Emma couldn't believe Neal brought her to the bar where Killian was playing. When he walked out on the stage, her heart nearly beat out of her chest, his face and body so familiar to her, but now, so foreign. She thought she knew everything about him, but his betrayal had almost broken her.

The pictures which revealed his unfaithfulness were imprinted on her brain, no matter how hard she tried to scrub them from her memory. It took her weeks to feel anything other than numbness, and that's when the anger and pain set in. Her friends had good intentions and attempted to cheer her up. Despite their loyalty to her, they still tried to convince her that Killian would never do something like that, but they hadn't seen the photos, and she was too humiliated to show them.

Neal had been there for her, calling to check on her and giving her a shoulder to cry on. When he asked her out after months of being her sounding board, she felt she owed it to him to show her appreciation for all he had put up with from her.

She never meant for it to be anything more than two friends going out to listen to some music and hang out. But he was making her uncomfortable with the way he was draping himself all over her, and she had a feeling he was doing it for show, trying to get under Killian's skin.

From the look on Killian's face once he noticed them, it worked.

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For most of the first week after the breakup, Killian didn't leave his apartment. He wallowed in his misery and in his bed - the bed he'd shared with her so often - keeping his face buried in her pillow to inhale the fading scent of her. He didn't eat, sleep, or shower and barely dragged himself out of bed to take care of his bodily functions.

He tried to call and text Emma, but quickly figured out that she must have blocked his number, driving him further into his pit of despair. Robin called him incessantly and finally barged into his apartment on the third day of his self-imposed isolation, intent on urging him back to the land of the living. After resisting his friend's attempts to get him to eat and shower, Robin left, threatening to call in the big guns to bring him around.

When his brother's voice broke through his foggy brain two days later, he knew Robin made good on his threat.

"What the bloody hell is going on with you?" Liam roared, causing Killian to tug the pillow over his head. It was promptly pulled away and his bloodshot eyes beheld the angry and concerned face of his older brother.

"How did you get here?" he croaked.

"I took some days off work, kissed my wife and daughter goodbye, and booked a flight from England. Then I convinced the building manager that my ponce of a brother might be in danger so he would let me in. Now, answer my question."

"She broke up with me," Killian said mournfully.

Liam sat down on the bed beside him. "What happened?" he asked in a much softer voice.

"I don't know. She said she saw some pictures that proved I cheated on her."

"Did you?"

"Fuck no! You know I'm completely in love with Emma and would never do that!"

"Then how do you think she got the idea you were with someone else?"

"I don't bloody know. I've wracked my brain trying to figure it out and I just can't make any sense of it."

"Well, shutting yourself away from the world isn't getting you anywhere, brother. When was the last time you showered? You stink!"

"What does it matter?"

"So you're just going to give up? You're not going to try to get her back?"

"She fucking blocked me! How am I supposed to talk to her if she's cut off all communication from me?"

"If you really want her back, you'll find a way. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets."

Killian sighed and flung his arm across his eyes. "I don't need your lectures, Liam."

"Fine, but you DO need a shower, and I'm assuming something to eat."

Like a petulant child, Killian flung back the covers and got out of bed. While he showered, Liam ordered food to be delivered and stripped the sheets off the bed, replacing them with fresh ones from the linen closet in the hall.

When Killian emerged from the bathroom, he noticed the change in his bedding and dug through the hamper to retrieve the pillowcase that still held the faint scent of Emma's shampoo, replacing the clean one on her pillow. Then he pulled on clean sweatpants and an old T-shirt before wandering out to the kitchen.

Liam was pulling cheeseburgers and fries out of bags as Killian slumped into a chair at the table. While he nibbled at his food, he listened to Liam telling him to pull himself together; but how could he do that when the better half of him was gone?

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Killian's jaw clenched tightly as he continued staring at the couple sitting across the room from him. Emma wasn't looking at him. In fact, she seemed to be actively avoiding it as her eyes darted around the room, looking at everything except him.

Meanwhile, Neal took advantage of having Killian's attention, pulling Emma closer, kissing her temple and cheek, while keeping his eyes on the man standing mutely on the stage. Then he used his fingers to turn her face towards him and pressed his mouth to hers, deepening the kiss almost obscenely until she put her hands on his chest and pushed him away slightly, breaking the contact between their lips.

Killian could tell Emma was trying to catch her breath, while Neal once again looked at him, running his tongue across his lips, before a smug grin transformed his face into the embodiment of mockery.

Without giving the audience any explanation, Killian threw the strap of his guitar over his head and placed the instrument in the stand at his feet, then stepped off the stage and let his feet carry him across the room. As he closed in on Emma and Neal's table, she finally looked up to see him approaching.

Anyone who didn't know Emma Swan would have missed the look she gave him, just before the mask of indifference dropped over her features, but Killian did know her and he saw it. It was regret mixed with anger, but he also sensed sadness.

"What are you doing here, Cassidy?" he gritted out, knowing he wouldn't be able to address Emma without being overcome with emotion.

"Just thought I'd treat my girlfriend to a night out on the town. I didn't realize the entertainment was going to be so…depressing, shall we say?"

"I'm here every Friday, mate. Don't try to pretend you didn't know I'd be here."

"Oh, I knew you would be here, I just didn't realize your, um…singing…would be so…melancholy. Really, dude, play something upbeat, would you? No wonder nobody is listening to you. I don't even think they realize you've stopped playing."

"Neal…" Emma started, putting her hand on his arm where it lay on the table.

"What, Baby?" he crooned, nuzzling his nose into the crease of her neck. Killian didn't miss how she flinched slightly.

"Why don't you go get us some drinks?" she asked tightly.

He gave her a perturbed look, then shot another at Killian, before pushing to his feet. "Anything for you, gorgeous," he said, not quite disguising the anger in his tone.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Killian turned to her. "What are you doing with him?"

"Who is the song for?" she asked, not acknowledging his question or meeting his eyes.

"The song?" His brain tried to catch up with what she was asking.

"You said it was for the love of your life, so I'm assuming it's for her."

"It's for the one and only woman I've ever loved, or will ever love."

She finally dragged her eyes up to meet his, and his heart broke all over again seeing the hurt and betrayal in the depths of them. "Who is she?"

"Don't you know, Emma? It's you. It will only ever be you." He refused to let her break eye contact with him, willing her to see the honesty in them.

"Then how do you explain…"

"The pictures? Why don't you ask Neal's mother?"

"Milah? Why would I ask her?"

"Because she has the ability and the equipment to enhance photos and I think she…"

"Here we go, Ems. Good thing the bartender knows me so I was able to get our drinks quickly and come right back." Neal set the bottles of beer on the table and slid into his seat, putting his arm around Emma and tugging her into his side. Casting a wary eye at Killian from under his furrowed brow, he growled, "Shouldn't you get back up on the stage, Jones? After all, that's what you're being paid to do."

Killian fought to keep a lid on his temper because he knew throwing a punch at Cassidy would only draw unwanted attention and upset Emma. He hadn't said a fraction of what was on his mind to her, but he knew the opportunity was lost. There was no way Neal was going to leave her alone again tonight.

Giving her one more lingering look, which he hoped conveyed his feelings adequately, he said, "It was good to see you again, Emma. I wish…I wish you nothing but happiness."

Before she could reply, he turned and made his way back to the stage. After picking up his guitar and strumming a few chords on it, his head dropped and he stood still for many long moments. Finally, he stepped up to the microphone and said, "I apologize, but I can't finish my set tonight."

Then he turned and walked off the stage.

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Liam stayed four days until he was satisfied his brother wasn't going to retreat back to his bed again. During that time, he encouraged Killian numerous times to try to pinpoint when everything went wrong.

"I truly don't know, Liam. One day, we were happy and in love, the next day she was telling me it was over. I have no idea what happened."

"What about those pictures you mentioned? Do you know anything about them?"

"Not a bloody thing. Apparently she saw some pictures somewhere - Facebook or Snapchat, I suppose - that showed me in a compromising position. I tried to look on her account, but she has me blocked on everything."

"But you don't remember them being taken?"

"I can't remember them being taken because I have never been with any other woman since I met Emma!"

"Could they have been from before you met her?"

"I haven't been with anyone else since I moved to the states. Any time I was with a woman before that was in the privacy of my bedroom or dorm room. There was never anyone around to take any pictures."

"Did you get plastered one night and take up with some lass? Or could it be a groupie at one of the bars where you play on the weekends?"

"I've never gotten so drunk that I lost my ability to think straight. The possibility of me being in pictures with another woman is zero percent." He huffed out an exasperated breath and began pacing around the living room. "I tried to call her friends and none of them will even talk to me. Not even Mary Margaret, and she's the kindest person I've ever met. I don't know what else to do."

Liam stood up and put his hands on his brother's shoulders. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I think you're going to have to give her space until she calms down and thinks things through rationally."

Killian hung his head. "That feels a lot like giving up, and I'll never stop fighting for her, Liam."

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After leaving the bar, Killian put his guitar case in his car, climbed into the driver's seat and pounded his fists on the steering wheel numerous times, before crossing his arms over it and resting his head on them. How could he be so bloody stupid? For as long as he could remember, Neal had designs on Emma and tried everything to get her to go out with him. Was it that far-fetched to think his mother had doctored some pictures and spread rumors to get Emma to break up with him so Neal could have a shot with her?

With these thoughts still swirling through his mind, he started the car and drove home through the busy Friday night traffic.

EKEKEKEKEKEK

When Emma saw Killian exit the stage, clearly distraught, her first instinct was to run after him and try to comfort him. She had to remind herself that he hurt her far worse than he seemed to be hurting right now. Still, what he started to say about Neal's mother's ability to enhance pictures sparked her curiosity. Was it possible things weren't what they seemed? Could she have been wrong all these months?

She thought about it for several minutes, absently sipping her drink, before stating flatly, "Take me home, Neal."

"What? Why? Because of Jones? Don't let him spoil our good time, Baby."

"Don't call me that! Why are you acting like this? We've just been going out to have a good time as friends, Neal - nothing more. You know I'm not ready to get involved in any kind of relationship right now."

"C'mon, Ems. It's been months and that bastard cheated on you! Don't you think it's time to move on?"

"I'll be the one to decide when it's time for me to move on, Neal. Now, if you aren't going to take me home, I'm going to call for an Uber."

He heaved a theatrical sigh. "Fine, have it your way." He threw on his jacket and stomped out of the bar, with Emma trailing in his wake.

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For weeks after Liam went back to England, Killian continued trying to contact Emma in every way possible, with no luck. When he went to her apartment building, the doorman informed him that Emma had put Killian's name on the list of people who were not permitted into the building. Going to where she worked at an accounting office garnered the same results.

She even seemed to have stopped going to her favorite coffee shop and bakery. He went there every day for a month, sitting at an inconspicuous corner table, hoping to catch her when she came in, but she never did.

It was as if she simply dropped off the face of the earth, or more likely, he had entered a universe in which everything that brought him happiness had vanished. He drifted through every day in a haze of miserable loneliness and despair, and time did nothing to heal the wounds of his heart.

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His phone vibrating against his cheek woke him up the morning after seeing Emma at the bar. He had fallen asleep with it in his hand, after checking through every social media site fruitlessly for the hundredth time, trying to find the elusive, damning pictures. He finally succumbed to a fitful sleep around four-thirty in the morning.

Groggily, he checked the number of the incoming call and bolted straight upright, fumbling to swipe the screen before the call cut off. "Emma?" he nearly shouted.

"H-hi, Killian." Her voice was soft and hesitant. "Did I wake you…"

"No," he hurried to assure her. "No, I was, um…I was…gods, it's good to hear your voice."

"Look," she said, sounding stronger, "I just wanted to…to…"

"Why were you there with him last night?" He knew he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't help himself. The question had been making his head ache for hours.

"I've been…we've, um…gone out a few times."

Killian squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to keep the hot tears from flooding them.

"And he wanted to…he said he was meeting a buddy and his girlfriend there, but they never showed up. Or they were never going to be there in the first place. I don't know."

"He knew I'd be playing last night. He brought you there on purpose, just to rub it in and to see how I would react."

"I don't think…"

"Come on, Emma! You know that's what he did!"

"I didn't call you for your commentary, Killian," she retorted.

"Why did you call, then?"

"I wanted to continue our conversation from last night. You said something about his mom enhancing pictures. How do you know that?"

"Because Belle has had her do some for the summer reading program at the library. She takes kids' pictures and turns them into animals or astronauts or pirates, things like that. I'm told they're really well done, like a work of art."

"I still don't think she would do something like faking pictures…"

"Of course she would, Swan! She'd do anything to make sure her spoiled brat of a son gets what he wants, and he made no secret of the fact he wanted you. And guess what? It worked!"

"You don't have any proof she did that, Killian!" Emma responded angrily.

"Where are these alleged photos of me with somebody else? I guarantee you they're fakes, because I have never even looked at another woman since you and I have been together. That's all the proof you should need."

"They look pretty convincing."

"I told you she's a professional, Emma. How did they even come to your attention in the first place?"

There was a long pause. "Jefferson sent them to me," she finally answered in a small voice.

"Jefferson? As in Neal's best mate? And that didn't raise any suspicions with you?" His anger was beginning to boil over and it was all he could do to keep a lid on it.

"They look legitimate. You're…the two of you are…it's in the alley behind The Rabbit Hole. You have her pressed up against the wall and you're…well, it doesn't leave much to the imagination."

"Bloody hell, Emma! You were with me every time I had a gig at The Rabbit Hole! Why in the hell would I sneak off into a back alley to fuck some random woman while the love of my life was sitting in the bar on the other side of the wall? How could you think so little of me?"

"Am I?" she asked quietly.

"Are you what?"

"The love of your life?"

"There will never be anyone else for me, Emma. My heart belongs to you, whether you want it or not."

"Did you really write that song for me?"

"Aye, I started it when we were still together and finished it about two months after you…ended things. I tried everything to contact you but you completely shut me out. The only way I knew to express my feelings was to put them into a song. I've been singing it at every show, hoping it would somehow help my heart to heal, but all it seems to do is keep the wounds fresh."

"It's a beautiful, haunting song," she conceded.

"Well, it was inspired by the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Killian…"

"I'll never stop loving you, Emma. Nothing you say or do can make me do that."

The silence that fell after his declaration stretched on for nearly a minute, before her voice, thick with emotion, came through the line. "I have to go, Killian. I'll, um, maybe I'll take another look at those pictures. I haven't been able to bring myself to look at them again since…since it all happened."

"If you want someone else's opinion, take them to Belle. She knows Milah's work and she would be able to tell you if they were faked; I mean that they ARE faked."

"I'll think about it."

"You'll let me know when you find out the truth, aye?"

"Yes, just don't push me, okay?"

"I won't, Love."

She closed her eyes at hearing the endearment. She used to love hearing it fall from his lips, but now it just rubbed at a raw wound. "Goodbye, Killian."

"It was very good to hear from you, Emma. I hope to talk to you again soon."

He lay looking up at the ceiling for the next ten minutes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and something that felt a lot like hope blooming in his chest.

EKEKEKEKEKEK

Emma ended the call and stared at her phone, working up the courage to pull up those abominable pictures again. Since viewing them the first time they appeared on her screen, she had stubbornly refused to look at them again, so she really hadn't studied them closely.

Taking a deep, quavery breath, she tapped in her passcode and opened her photo gallery. As she began slowly scrolling through the photos, her thoughts went back to when she first laid eyes on the incriminating pictures. To say she was shocked would be the understatement of the century. There was the man she loved with every fiber of her being, fucking an unknown, dark-haired woman against a brick wall. Her face was buried in his shoulder, so Emma wasn't able to identify her, but Killian's face was easily recognizable.

When she knew she was getting close to the date when Jefferson shared the pictures with her, accompanied by a text that simply said, "Thought you might be interested in seeing these," she nearly closed the gallery. The pain that had been present in her heart for eight months reared its ugly head again, grasping at her throat and forcing tears to gather in the corners of her eyes.

At last, the photos came into view and she swallowed hard before bringing one up. She felt the familiar stabbing sensation in her chest as, with shaking fingers, she swiped the screen to zoom in.

Killian appeared to be looking off to the side. Emma shifted the view, being careful not to move it down to where the two bodies were joined, and studied the shirt the man was still wearing, obviously not taking the time to undress completely for a quick fuck. It appeared to be a light colored dress shirt with thin stripes and she blew out a disbelieving breath. Killian never wore shirts like that when he played gigs; he either wore plaid flannel or a Henley. She wasn't even sure he owned a shirt like the one in the photo.

She zoomed in again on his face. The expression on it didn't look much like someone in the throes of passion. He looked almost serene, with a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

"Hold on a minute…" Emma murmured. She minimized the gallery and opened her Facebook app, bringing up her profile page and clicking on the photos. Scanning through them quickly, she soon found what she was looking for, a picture taken at Mary Margaret and David's baby reveal party, when Killian was sitting at the picnic table looking over at Emma. Ruby had taken it and posted it on Facebook, adding a caption which said, 'The look of a man in love.'

Emma flipped back and forth between the photos several times to compare them. "Son of a bitch!" she cursed. Not only had someone created a fake photo, they had used a picture of Killian smiling at her sweetly to do it.

She felt bile rise into her throat and swallowed it back down, but it didn't do anything to alleviate the sick feeling in her stomach. Although she still didn't have proof it was Neal's mother who did it, she would bet every dime she had that it was her work.

All those months of heartbreak and pain were because of a spoiled brat whose mommy decided to break up a blissfully happy couple, so her son could get what he coveted.

She was torn about what to do first. She wanted to call Neal and rip into him with her accusations, but she also wanted to call Killian to tell him she'd discovered the truth. After several moments of contemplation, she opted to call Mary Margaret to get her advice on how to handle the situation.

EKEKEKEKEKEKE

Killian sat on his couch, listlessly plucking at the strings of his guitar. It had been hours since Emma's phone call and he wondered if she decided not to take another look at the pictures. He knew if she did, she would definitely discover the manipulation, and surely she would have called him.

When a soft knock sounded on his door, his eyes shot up and his heart rate soared. Laying his guitar aside, he stood up and crossed the room, a bit anxious, but daring to hope.

The door opened to reveal Emma on the other side, nervously wringing her hands, her face pale, drawn, and absolutely beautiful.

"Swan?" he questioned, his voice coming out strained.

"May…may I come in?" she whispered.

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