Okay. Here we go with my next multichapter fic. This one has been in the works for awhile and now that I have some of it written I finally feel comfortable enough posting it. I am going to warn you now, prepare your souls for angst and lots of it.

Thank you to the-lady-of-misthaven and zengoalie for looking this over.

Lastly, I wanted to give a HUGE thank you to o-u-a-timer who has been my biggest supporter when it comes to this fic. Thank you for the endless edits, the plotting, and for helping me work through all of my crazy ideas. This fic would be nothing without you!

9 years ago.

This was it. Everything he had been through in his life led to this moment. This single moment. Killian's heart was beating rapidly. His hand lightly tapped the box in the pocket of his jeans as they walked down the length of the beach. He needed to do this now or he would lose his nerve.

Looking over, he was rendered speechless at the sight before him. Emma walked slightly ahead of him, sandals in her hand. The wind caught her dress in just the right way, lifting it to reveal her shapely legs. The moonlight reflected off of the water giving her blonde tresses an ethereal glow. She was looking toward the water, a small smile graced her pink lips.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Even at the age of nineteen, Killian knew he would love no other like he did her. He had known it from the moment he saw her wandering on campus looking for the right building.

It warmed his heart when he thought about it. Of all of the schools she could have chosen to go to she chose Storybrooke University in California. Located in a small town of the same name, about six hours north of Los Angeles, Killian had chosen the university because the had a top notch music program. Emma had moved all the way from Boston after she was phased out of the system. She needed a new start she had told him once. Someplace where she could stand on her own. Her past was why she had chosen social work as her major.

It really was amazing that they had found each other.

"Killian?" Her voice was light, questioning. It pulled him from his thoughts. "Is everything okay? You stopped walking."

He looked down and realized she was indeed correct. His converse-covered feet were firmly planted in the sand.

"Aye, lass. I was just lost in the view." He reached his hand forward beckoning her to take it.

She didn't disappoint and he pulled her closer the instant her hand was in his, wrapping his arms around her petite frame.

"The view, huh?" A teasing smile crossed her lips as she leaned her forehead against his and he knew he had been caught.

"The most beautiful one in all of the world, Emma." It was the truth, in his heart and his mind.

Emma threw her head back as laughter escaped her mouth. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard - her laughter. He could spend his life listening to nothing but her laugh. Her hair danced in the wind. It was a glorious sight.

"You can be such a romantic sometimes, Killian," her seafoam eyes returned to meet his, "but I like it."

She did that to him. She brought out his romantic side. It was reserved only for her. Letting his arms falls from her back to her hips, he continued to look into her eyes. One of his hands came up to scratch the place behind his ear, head tilting sideways.

"Emma, I have a question I'd like to ask you." She nodded her head.

"You know you can ask me anything." Her hand came up to rest on his stubbled cheek, forcing him to look at her once again.

His hand moved from his ear to the pocket of his jeans, pulling out the box inside. His other hand moved to grab one of hers in his and he kneeled on one knee in the sand. A look of alarm crossed her features.

"I have loved you from the moment I saw you lost on campus. I swear to you that if you let me, I will make it my job to protect your heart. Emma Swan, will you marry me?"

A gasp escaped her mouth before her free hand came to rest over it. Tears began falling from her eyes.

"Oh, Killian. Yes. Just...yes." Her voice shook as she spoke.

Jumping up quickly, Killian placed the small diamond ring on her finger. His arms wrapped around her waist as he picked her up and spun them in a circle. Placing her back on the ground, his lips quickly sought hers out in a tender kiss as his hands ran through her golden hair.

He had everything he could ever want right there in his arms.

The car skidded to a halt as Killian slammed on the brakes. Throwing the transmission into park, he yanked the keys out of the ignition while opening the door at the same time. As soon as his converse covered feet hit the pavement of the driveway he was on the move, slamming the car door behind him.

Getting from Los Angeles to Storybrooke had taken far too long. Emma. He needed to find Emma, needed her to explain what the bloody hell was going on. There was no way those damned reporters were right. They couldn't be. It was impossible.

He hit his shoulder as he barrelled through the front door of their house. Their home. They bought it after his first album took off. Looking for months before they finally found it. It's perfect, Killian. This is the one. The one we can raise a family in. Our family.

The door hit the wall with a bang, interrupting his thoughts. The house was silent. There wasn't anyone on the main floor. Hearing footsteps from upstairs, Killian turned quickly, taking the steps two at a time. The hallway was dark, only a single light emerged from their bedroom at the end of the hall.

He strode purposely toward the bedroom door, shoving his way inside. The sight before Killian made his eyebrows bunch in confusion, a frown marring his dark features. His heart quickened its pace as he clenched his fists. There were suitcases everywhere: on the floor, on the bed, atop of the dresser. Some filled, some half-filled. Where the bloody hell was Emma?

Stepping further into their room, Killian looked around for his wife. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her in the walk-in closet. Her walk-in closet. Pushing the closet door open quickly, Killian took a moment to observe her.

Her hair was in a ponytail, which was odd because she prefered to wear it down. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater, even though it was approaching midnight. What really struck Killian was her face. It was stained with tear tracks. When she finally looked up to catch him staring, her features hardened.

"Emma. What the buggering fuck is going…" She didn't even give him time to finish, walking right past him to their bedroom. He followed quickly, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

She paid him no attention as she shoved more clothes into one of the suitcases before zipping it up and placing it next to the bed.

Why was she packing? Where was she going? None of this made any sense. Was she leaving? If she was leaving that meant the reporter was right. A pit formed in his stomach. He couldn't think it.

She walked past him back into her closet, a whirl of blonde hair. It was as if he wasn't even there.

He stood there for a moment unsure of what to do. He needed to talk to her, needed to get answers. When she walked back out of the closet Killian reached out grabbing her elbow, forcing her to face him. She stared at him with a blank face and said nothing.

"Emma, stop… please, love. Explain this to me. Di-divorce? They said you filed. Did you?" His voice shook as tears escaped his eyes.

For a moment, concern flashed through her eyes before it was replaced with anger.

"I did." She yanked her arm out of his grasp and moved back toward her suitcases.

Killian sunk to the floor where he was standing, in the middle of the room. It felt like all of the oxygen had been removed from the room at her words. She had filed. This wasn't some hoax that the reporters had made up. This...this was really happening.

"Emma, I…" The words died in his mouth. For once, he had no idea how to respond.

Emma glared in his direction and threw her hands up in the air.

"You know what… I'll, yeah, I'll just come and get the rest of my stuff tomorrow. You'll be needed back in LA by then anyway." He looked up to meet her glare. Her words held a hint of anger.

"Emma, love…" His voice cracked. Hand reaching out toward her. "Talk to me. Please. Don't do this."

For a moment she seemed to hesitate. Her features softened, hand made a move toward him. Then, she shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. Picking up her suitcase, she gave him one last look.

"I'm sorry." Then, she was gone.

He couldn't move. He wanted to follow her, to get her to stay, to beg her to explain. But he couldn't. His legs felt like lead. His thumb twisted the ring on his left hand. His wedding band. His face crumpled as the tears began to fall.

How could this have happened? Why had this happened? He looked at the pictures around the room. Pictures of the two of them. They had been happy. He had everything he could ever want. His career, great friends, and a wife he was madly in love with. Now?

Now, he was alone in this big house surrounded by all of their hopes and dreams.

Finally able to move, he made it to the bedroom window in time to watch her taillights turn into the street. He stood there with one hand pressed against the window as if it were trying to reach out toward her. The other hand reached up to comb through his own hair. There was no explanation, no reason. The pit in his stomach grew larger. What was he supposed to do now?

She was gone and it felt like a part of him went with her.

Thank you for reading! I would love to know your thoughts, so please feel free to leave me a review.