"I'm Coming Home."

It had been no doubt that she'd missed him, that seeing him with other women had hurt her more than it had helped her move on. She had never loved her new fiancé, him just being a replacement to fill an empty void in her chest. But she couldn't deny that seeing him had ignited their old spark within her, her heart beating out of her chest at the sight of his cleanly shaved face. It didn't end right between them, they had both known that. There was something he had never known about that night, that she had ran back home, willing to beg and make him stay. Little did she know that she had been too late, missing him by maybe even a millisecond. He had left with haste, a broken heart in his suitcase, the pain weighing it down. Staying would've caused him too much pain, and so he did what he had been accustomed to, leaving. He had left her with no note, no possible way to even reach him. His phone lay on the table, and she knew that he was gone for good when she heard it ringing in a half-empty closet. Rain covered her body as she stood in the empty apartment, a place that once felt like a home, but now felt more like a room with a ceiling and four walls. Tears fall down her cheeks as she realizes the inevitable, that he was never coming home to her again. She'd never see his face again, and that nearly tore her to shreds. It had been her fault, she thought, as to why he felt as if he needed to leave a place that wasn't home anymore. Her heart sinks into her chest as she screams into her hands, not worried if anyone hears her cry of heartbreak. If maybe, she thinks, if maybe she had realized it a few minutes earlier then she could've still had him. She could've caught him with one foot out the door, but at least then she could've stopped him. This was something she had never admitted to him, that she had went back for him, admitting she was wrong. Now it was too late, now that she was engaged to another man and he was in love with her friend. "There's something you don't know," she'd tell him in the confined space of the motel room, their lives on the line. His heart shatters at the thought that if he had stayed they could've been married by now, or so deeply in love that nothing else in life mattered. It could've still just been him and her. Why did I ever leave home, he thinks to himself. "I never stopped loving you." Their hands were practically touching, as tears fall down her face. Please come home, she pleads within her mind, please find your way back to me. His hand caresses her cheek, soothing her broken heart. She never loved her fiancée, not like she had loved him. He pulls her in, close enough for his breath to fan over her face. His hands tangle with her golden locks, his fingers running through the past. Then it happens, everything comes back to them. His lips crash onto hers, a feeling so pure and full of love that it takes them both over and makes them forget of anyone else. Their lips move in sync, something that works so well only between them. They found their way home, their way back to each other, and from now on they wouldn't get lost or stray away from their home again. "I'm home, baby." And just like that, they were home.