A disclaimer:
This was originally written as just what I've posted as the first chapter, but upon sharing it with my friends and creative writing class a sequel was called for, so
I wrote a few words for those who are unsatisfied with the original ending, they are as follows:

It had probably been the worst moment of my life. Worse than finding out my dog had died, worse than finding out I had to keep my braces on for a third

my boyfriend of two-and-a-half years in the mall with my best friend, chatting and hugging as if I didn't even exist; that is until they saw me there.

They tried to explain, I saw their lips moving, sounds unintelligible to my shocked mind being emitted, but the surprise and guilt I saw in their eyes was more

than enough explanation for me.

The explanation attempts continued over the next few days. I ignored their calls, when he came to my door I threw things at him, eventually they just

stopped trying. That betrayal, by the two people closest to me in my life, took its toll. I stopped going to all the places I had once frequented; my house had

fallen into disarray;dark bags developed under my eyes, the result of nights spent crying rather than sleeping. I had been driven back into my shell.

It was about three months later, after I had finally begun to get back into life, that I ran into him, literally.

"Pardon m..Emily!" He exclaimed. His hands grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to face him.

"Hello." I remarked politely, coldly.

"Emily, please listen to me." He said, one hand now rummaging in his pocket for who knew what.

"I'm listening." I said, impatience lacing my voice, impatience my method of dealing with the pain of reopened wounds. He pressed something small and soft

into my hands, a box.

"I asked her to come help me pick this out, for you."

I didn't even need to look in the box, but I did anyway; a glittering diamond ring winked up at me.

"Oh my…I thought…" My knees began to buckle with the realization of what had happened; of the truth.

"I know what you thought." He replied, his hands on my shoulders, holding me up. I looked up into the face of my almost-fiancé.

"What should I do now?"

He smiled, his eyes twinkling, "I would start by talking to Amanda, she's been really worried about you."

"And then…?" I asked.

"And then we do the only thing we can do, start over."

And so we did.