"Blaine?"

"Kurt?" said Blaine eagerly, his heart stopping. "How are you?"

"Good, Blaine. I . . . I really need to talk to you."

"Okay," Blaine replied hesitantly, crawling onto his bed, placing a pillow in his lap and holding it tight to his chest. It still hurt to hear Kurt's voice. "What's wrong?"

"Well, nothing, not really anyway. I just . . . I needed to hear your voice." Kurt sounded conflicted, and a little out of breath.

Blaine's lips pursed, thin with tension. He felt his pulse in the tips of his fingers and in his cheeks. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't sound like yourself."

"I—yes, I'm okay. I just . . . really needed to apologize about the phone call from a month ago. I was completely hammered, and I wasn't thinking straight. I shouldn't have called you; to be truthful, I can't even remember what I said. Something embarrassing, no doubt. Adam told me that the alcohol really loosened my lips." Blaine swallowed, although it was difficult past the lump lodged in his throat. "Anyway . . . that's it. I just needed to apologize."

"Oh." Blaine could barely breathe past his disappointment. "Well, I forgive you. I—how have you been, Kurt?"

Kurt didn't answer for a few moments. "Fine," he said finally.

"Really?" Blaine knew him enough to be suspicious. "You don't really sound it. Your voice is kind of shaky."

"I know, I—I'm just really stressed about school is all. And I'm trying to make it home for the wedding, but I don't really have enough money and I really wanted to go if I could—"

"You're going to be at the wedding?" Blaine's voice was high and breathy with hope.

"If I can afford it, of course I'm going. When have I ever passed up the opportunity to dress up?"

Blaine laughed, a cute quiet squeak. "That's true," he responded quietly. After a long moment of silence, Blaine finally piped up again. "Kurt . . . are, are you happy?"

Blaine was expecting a 'yes, of course, I'm living my dream,' or something similar that would crush him to pieces. But it didn't come.

"I don't know anymore, Blaine. I don't even remember what happy feels like." The raw honesty in Kurt's voice stilled Blaine and silenced him. "Were we happy, Blaine? Together?"

Blaine swallowed hard and tried to find his voice. "Do you not remember?"

"I do, of course I do, but my memories of us have just been clouded with all this hurt and I can't seem to see past it. I think about you and it hurts. I think about what we had and how special it was, and it hurts. And there's only pain now, and it overshadows the happy. Do you know what I mean?"

Blaine nodded, even though Kurt couldn't see him. He adjusted his grip on the pillow in his lap, clutching it until his knuckles turned white. "Yes." A single tear fell, quickly followed by more. Blaine's voice cracked, but he continued, uncaring. "I feel so guilty, Kurt, every second of the day. So guilty and horrible and ashamed that I threw you away, that I threw away what we had. And I just don't know to tell you how sorry I am, or how I could possibly ask for your forgiveness." Blaine took a breath, and it rattled with tears and agony. "Do you think . . . we'll ever be together again? Do you think we'll ever have what we had before?"

"No." The rejection was immediate and skewered Blaine like a dagger. He put a hand over his heart to stop the wound from bleeding, but the blood flowed nevertheless. "If we ever end up together again, we'll be stronger. We won't be careless children; we'll know how to maintain it without letting it fall through our hands again."

"So . . . there's hope?"

Kurt chuckled – as in, he actually laughed. "Of course there is, Blaine. Don't you believe in soulmates? Or fate? Don't you believe that we're meant for each other?"

Blaine was choked by the words he never thought he'd hear Kurt utter ever again. "Of course I do."

"All we need is time, Blaine. Time apart is good for us, and you have to understand that we need to live our lives separately before we can live them together. Forever is a huge commitment; we need to know that we're ready before we decide to do this again."

"But what about Adam?"

Kurt scoffed loudly. "What about him?"

Blaine smiled for the first time in months. His personal raincloud had vanished.

Kurt had given Blaine a promise. Kurt had promised Blaine the rest of his life, no matter what – and that was everything that mattered.

Blaine was jittery in the weeks leading up to the wedding, and everyone else saw the improvement in his mood. No one asked, afraid that Blaine was putting on a front that would crumble at the first sign of attack. No one except for Sam, who correctly correlated Blaine's unmistakable joy with the knowledge that Kurt was returning to Lima for the wedding.

"Is it Kurt?" he'd asked out of the blue, holding open Blaine's locker door while he put away his textbooks. Blaine had nearly dropped his books in shock, turning to look at Sam with an incredulous expression.

"Is what Kurt?" Blaine retorted, eyebrows pulling together.

Sam smirked. "You've been jubilant lately. You keep getting this look on your face when you daydream – I know that face. You only look like that when you're thinking about Kurt."

Blaine smiled in spite of himself, wiping his hand across his mouth. "I didn't know I did that." After a moment, he looked up at Sam. "I think . . . I think we're going to get back together, Sam. I think he's going to give me a second chance. I—," Blaine broke off, his voice shaky and his golden eyes wet. "I just can't wait to see him."

Sam wrapped his arm around Blaine's shoulder, pulling him in for a tight hug. "I'm happy for you," he whispered fiercely, fighting back emotion. Over the course of the year, Blaine had become his best friend, and this was the first time since breaking up with Kurt that Sam saw him genuinely happy. "You two need to be together. Okay?"

Blaine pulled back, his eyes welling with gratitude. He nodded. "Thank you, Sam." He whispered.