"Come on Dave, you promised you'd take me out on the lake this weekend," Erin Strauss looked up at her fiancee forlornly. Dave Rossi sighed lightly and rubbed his tired eyes;

"I know, I know, I just have so much paperwork to do, Hotch asked me to help him out and I took it on," he looked at her as she rolled her eyes;

"Come on Erin, we can go to the lake next weekend," he offered, knowing ultimately what her next words would be. He braced for the barb of her sarcasm;

"It's always next weekend, I'm starting to think you just don't want to be with me anymore," she spoke with such dreary undertones, her eyes sheltered from his. Dave looked at her for a moment, his words leaping out before he had a chance to stop them;

"I think you're right," he said in strained, yet hushed tones. Erin's head snapped up, shock painting her face. Dave could see her heart break through her eyes, which were laden with cloudy-skied despair;

"You don't?" her voice sounded so raw, like broken china smashed under foot. Dave's eyes looked upon her face for what would probably be the last time. He searched desperately for some words of comfort, of explanation, but he found none, he said only;

"I'm sorry," before turning away, walking out into the driveway of her town house. She ran after him, her tears running, chased by raindrops down her now ashen face. He couldn't bring himself to look back at her, stood barefoot on the dampening floor, her cotton dress probably becoming translucent in the October rain. He climbed into his truck, and she grabbed onto the door to prevent closure, of both the door and their relationship, and she cried;

"You can't! You see this ring? You said it meant forever, we said forever," she whispered, her voice strangled, before letting go of the door, and of them. He closed it and started the ignition, driving away into the night.

Erin somehow found the strength to go inside, she took off the ring, the one that reminded her of the commitment she, and a man she would never forget, were planning to make. She placed it on the mantle in her living room. She sat down on the sheepskin rug in front of the fire place; the first place she and Dave had made love. She laid her head down and wrapped her arms around her body, which was now wracked with sobs.

Dave climbed out of his truck and walked through his front door. He closed it behind him and slid to the floor. He leaned his head back against the wood paneled door. He grabbed the pill bottle from the little table beside the door and popped the last one; he needed the Sertraline more and more these days. He climbed the stairs of his moderately-sized home and collapsed into a heap on his bed, not even bothering to undress. He fell into an uneasy and restless slumber, a barrage of thoughts pervading his mind. Thoughts of guilt and sadness, of anger and wistful nostalgia. When he awoke from the night's torment, he showered and dressed. He sighed a weight of the world sigh, for he knew that he had to walk into the BAU and see the fragile face of Erin Strauss.

Rossi walked into the BAU, a feast of eyes judging his decision without saying a word. He walked up the stairs of the mezzanine to the office of his boss Aaron Hotchner and knocked;

"Come in," he summoned Dave in. He opened the door tentatively and stepped into the sparse office, into the realm of his boss who never smiled.

"Can we make this quick, Dave? I have a lot of paperwork to do before the next case, and I'm still waiting for yours," Hotch's face was fixed into his usual sculpted scowl. Dave cleared his throat and nodded, putting a folded piece of paper in front of Hotch;

"This won't take long, I promise," Hotch's frown deepened as he picked up the piece of paper, his eyes darting, chasing the words down the page;

"I don't understand," Hotch looked up, perplexity in his soulful eyes;

"You're resigning?" This was more a statement than a question. Dave nodded and sighed, again searching for words of relevance and coming up with only seven;

"I don't know what else to do," he shook his head in a definitive, yet crest-fallen way. Hotch put the letter down and interlocked his fingers before speaking again;

"Have you thought all this through? You're running away," Hotch looked at Dave, who flared back at him;

"I know that!" he paused;

"My decision is made," he said matter of factly, and turned to walk out of the door. He got on a plane that day after collecting his things from Erin's house; and fighting with her. He didn't look back. How could he? It hurt too much.

Erin found out that Dave had resigned through the hushed Chinese whispers that were spreading through the office like wild fire. The same eyes that had judged Dave, were now painted with pity, and she felt just like a young high school girl, who had been dumped the day before prom.

Three Months Later

Erin looked up from her book and looked over her glasses at the sound of the door. She put down her glass of wine and pulled off the blanket. It was eleven at night, and she certainly wasn't expecting anyone. She moved to the door gingerly and looked through the peephole. No way! It couldn't be! She thought to herself as she pulled the door open. It couldn't be but it was; there, upon her doorstep, stood David Rossi.

"Dave," she breathed, her feelings of love crashing over her again like a tide upon rocks.

"Hey," was all he uttered. He had a shoebox in the crook of his arm.

"You look good," he smiled faintly and waited to see if she would invite him in. She smiled softly;

"You do too, do you want to come in?" she stepped to one side to allow him through and he walked into her cream and red living room. He surveyed the room to find very little had changed, only that the items depicting their love had been callously discarded from the home they once shared only three short months ago. He took a deep breath;

"Okay, I have a lot to say, and I need you to let me get through it, okay?" he spoke softly and caught her eyes with his. She simply nodded, and bit her lip. He put the shoebox on the table and began to wring his hands;

"The last few months have been so hard on me. The day I left you, I made a mistake. I wake up every night crying, reaching for you, this giant hole throbbing in my chest. I found all these pictures of us," he picked up the shoebox and took the lid off, placing it noiselessly on the table;

"The fight we had when I came to get my stuff? I found your pearls, they must have landed in the box," he let them hang loosely from his fingers;

"All the pictures, the memories, the pressed rose petals from the first time we made love by the fire, and this;" he pulled out a perfectly folded piece of paper;

"It's a letter I wrote to you, I was gonna give it to you on our wedding day. I want you to read it and...maybe you'll come back to me," he finished, his voice barely above a whisper, the words almost lost as they hit the air like wisps of smoke. He held out the note and she took it tentatively, and unfolded it. She began to read, each word pulling upon her heart strings;

"...I can't see myself without you, I want to sit side by side on the porch in our eighties, sharing pureed pumpkin pie on a fall evening..."

A tear meandered down her rosy cheek reading those words, it blanched upon the inked confession. In that moment, a realization dawned on her;

"It'll never work," she choked out hoarsely. Dave looked at her, his whole world shattering in those three words, he dropped to his knees;

"Please, don't say those words, take it back, you know you don't mean that," his voice trembled as he looked up, his eyes pleading and swimming in tears. Erin couldn't find any words to comfort the broken man before her, all she said was;

"You broke my heart, did you just expect me to run back into your arms? Well, I've grown too strong, to ever fall back in your arms. It's way too late," she looked down at the man she had once loved unquestionably, and walked into her kitchen; his signal to leave. He climbed up from her polished limestone floor and wiped his dewy eyes. Erin closed her eyes and sighed as she heard the door click shut. She wondered to herself how she had become such an actress; being strong when she felt so completely dismantled, was the hardest thing she had ever done.

Six Months Later

Dave paid the barista for his cappuccino and popped a stick of gum into his mouth, and walked into the warm July sun. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw a familiar blonde beauty walking towards him. She was on the phone and as she walked by, she caught his eye line. His heart fell into his stomach as she seemed to look right through him, as if he was non corporeal, like they had never shared so much as a glance before this moment. As he reached his car and climbed in, he reached for his cellphone. He dialed the number he had dialed endlessly for the final time. He felt his heart jump as he heard her answer phone message, her voice so full of warmth;

"Hey Erin...it's Dave...I just wanted to say, I still love you..." he left his final words and hung up, the end of what had been a perfect period of time, disappearing like a sunset.

Erin walked through her front door and threw her keys on the table. She casually pressed the button on her answer machine;

"Hey Erin...it's Dave...I just wanted to day, I still love you. You were the part of my life I never thought would be over. I lost you because I was blinded by the mistake of poor judgment. Seeing you today was a wake-up call, I have to end the painful dream of you and me. I know I'll always love you, Hell I have to, 'cause I promised," the answer machine clicked off and Erin stared at it, and spoke to what was now an empty room;

"Yeah, you promised," she whispered, and took the ring he had once given her in love, out of her purse, and placed it in a drawer;

"But promises can break...hearts can break,"

That was the last night Erin dreamed about Dave, for fate had played upon them, like a guitar, and all that was left was the remnants of broken strings.