He looks at the golden numbers on the door. 356.

He then brings his eyes down to the key that is resting in the palm of his hand. 356.

It is now that hesitation and doubt creeps over him. His mind is yelling for him to get the fuck out of here, but his feet won’t comply. Neither will his shaky hands that unlock the door.

His heart is pounding insanity, but as the possibilities run trough his head like the rain pouring down outside, he know that he can’t leave. So he doesn’t. Instead he pushes the door open, ignoring what his mind is telling him because his heart needs to know.

The empty room in front of him comes as a shock.

What had you expected Justin? That it would look like it did back then? That the curtains you picked out, would still flow down the giant window? It doesn’t help.  He can’t comfort himself and he starts to feel dizzy. He takes a few steps back and hits the now closed door.

That’s when she appears. Soaked in a white dress, she looks more beautiful then he remembered.

“I’m glad you came” Her lips are trembling and her voice is hoarse.

He only nods.

She opens her hand and reveals a small key, the exact copy of the one he has.

This confirms what he feared.

Tears are burning in both of their eyes.

“I don’t want it”

She shakes her head “but we said-“

“I don’t want it!”

A sharp pain shoots trough his heart as he thinks back on it.

It was his idea…his perfect plan.

He knew she loved the apartment, but he also knew about her dreams of starting a family.

So he did the only thing he could think of….he took advantage of the scenario. The first one to marry has to give up the condo.

Maybe this way she would wait….only for a while…only until he was ready to give her his blessing.

And then he would even be able to give the key to her, like a present for her future happiness.

He now realizes that he is lying to himself.

He had always thought that they would start over. He would make her his, and she would make him hers.

This would be their home, like it used to.

Tears roll down his cheeks.

“Justin…” she cries. She always cried when he did.

“Go!” he yells “Be with what’s-his-name” 

She falls down on her knees next to his scrunched down body on the floor.

He tries to push her away when she wraps her arms around him.

He furiously tries to pull out of her embrace, but she doesn’t budge.  So he closes his eyes, his heart like a stone, and breaks down. By her shaking shoulders, he can tell she is too.

“Don’t do it” he sobs “Britney please…”

He props himself up so that he can look into her eyes “please”

Her breathing is rapid, so is her tears “You’re just saying this because-“

“No baby” He puts his hands on her shoulders “I love you. I’ve always loved you”

“It won’t be the same”

“Tell me…” He lifts her chin and leans into her, his lips brushing against hers “that you don’t feel it”

Her eyes flutter shut as she feels the goose bumps on her arms and the familiar longing.

With one motion she throws herself in his arms and crashes her lips against his.

She does feel it.