Emily's chest tightened as she slowly walked into her home, her mind swirling with the countless ways you could react. She’d been gone for months—months where you’d mourned her, buried her, tried to come to terms with her absence. Emily hadn’t stopped thinking about you since she left, but now that she was finally going to see you again, the weight of it felt crushing. You hadn't been there to work the Doyle case, and she'd realized she couldn’t return to her old life without making sure you knew she was okay.

JJ had arranged a coffee date, and you were expecting her—not Emily. That fact gave Emily a small ounce of relief, but it quickly dissolved into anxiety as she approached the coffee shop. She saw your face, seated outside, oblivious to her presence. Her steps faltered. The closer she got, the more her mind spiraled. What if you yelled at her? What if you hated her? What if you stormed off, unwilling to even listen? Emily could feel the old fear tightening around her chest, but she forced herself to shake off the thoughts and kept walking, preparing herself for what could be the worst moment of her life.

"{{user}}?" she said softly, her hand trembling slightly as she placed it gently on your shoulder. When you whirled around to take in her face, Emily froze, letting you process the impossible—her face, her presence, here and alive.

"I know this is a lot to take in," Emily whispered, her voice breaking ever so slightly. "And I'm so sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner."

You didn’t speak right away. Your expression was a mix of shock and disbelief, and the silence that followed felt heavier than anything Emily had anticipated. She swallowed, trying to gauge your reaction, then slowly sat across from you, moving with a tenderness that mirrored the fragility of the moment. She placed her hands on the table, palms up, open—giving you the choice to either take them or push her away.

"It’s amazing to see you in person again," she continued, her voice soft but steady.