Hawaii is just...perfection. The weather, the scenery, the people, the music. All of it is paradise. I didn't think it could get any more perfect until my husband got down on one knee five seconds ago.

"Marry me Soph," I don't think he meant for it to come out as a whisper, and I really don't think he meant for his eyes to well up with tears as he held out a diamond ring twice the size of the one that currently sat on my right hand.

It took me a minute to pick my mouth up off of the ground. I wasn't expecting this, especially now after spending the day on a yacht right before we were about to go to bed. Not after just walking out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my body and him in nothing but a pair of shorts. "I...We...But...We're already married..."

"So marry me again...lets renew our vows!"

"Babe I-"

"Just say yes so that I can get off my knee would ya? I'm a lot older then I was the first time I proposed!" the smirk that I fell in love with began to form on his face when I reached down to pull him up off of the ground. "So?"

"30 isn't old..."

"Don't fuck around!"

"Hey!" I put my hands up in the air stating my defense, "I don't think you're suppose to yell and swear during a marriage proposal."

"Sorry. Just. I'm nervous!"

My arm wrapped effortlessly around his neck as I placed a soft kiss on his lips, "I don't know what you're nervous about. I'd marry you every single day of my life if I could."

A hand brushed down my cheeks as his lips crashed down onto mine.

 I love Hawaii.

***

I told Justin 4 months ago via E-Mail that I was pregnant. His response wasn't pleasant, not that I expected it to be, but I guess I didn't expect it to be so harsh either. I wrote and deleted a million messages back to him. I didn't know what to say, how to make it better, or even how I really felt, so I sent nothing. I thought about an abortion, and I considered adoption but I knew if I had this child, carried it in me for 40 weeks, there was no way I was going to be able to give it up. Jay didn't take to well to the idea of becoming a father, and when I first told him he accused me of being a slut and slapped me across the face. I knew then that we wouldn't last. I knew I was going to be a single mother at the age of 19 and that made me not want to write to Justin even more. But even after all that. The hitting that continued, the fighting with my mother over how dumb and stupid I was to get pregnant so young, I still made the decision to keep the baby.

3 months after I found out, 3 months after he first hit me, Jay apologized for everything, promised it would never happen again, and proposed. We were laying in bed and he pulled out a box with a pretty good sized cubic zirconia in it, told me for the first time that he loved me and wanted us to be a family. I knew I should have said no but at the same time I wanted my child to have a family so I said yes. That afternoon we went down to city hall and became husband and wife, and that night after throwing up for the second time that day and wanting nothing more then to just lie in bed, he hit me so hard I bled because I didn't want to have sex. I knew I should have left, but I didn't because everything else in my life that was going great was giving me hope that this was just a phase. I'm doing my first major celebrity interview next month, and surprisingly I'm doing really well in all of my classes, so this just has to be a phase. So instead of fighting it I had sex with him and once I knew he was sleeping I snuck out of bed and turned on the computer to write the one E-Mail I've been putting off for 3 months.

Hey,

I bet you weren't expecting to hear from me ever again, and I guess I can't blame you. Sorry I never wrote back. I deserved to hear everything you said in that E-Mail but obviously I was pissed when I read it. I guess I don't really expect an E-mail back from you but I can't say I won't be sad if I don't get one.

So I guess I should just update you on everything and then pray you write back after I click send. Well...I'm married! Jay proposed this morning and we went to City Hall this afternoon and made it all legal. It's good that we'll actually be a family you know? In hindsight that makes the whole teenage pregnancy thing a little bit better. I thought about abortion for like 5 minutes but I knew I couldn't do it, and I'm not going to lie adoption is probably the best option but I swear Justin I already love this kid. I know it's kind of crazy to think of me as a mother...and hell it's crazy to even think of me as a wife, but I know I can be good at both if I set my mind to it.

Work and school have been going really well. One more week left of classes before I got to Vegas for Christmas. I didn't go home for Thanksgiving because I didn't think my Mom was ready to see me yet. She's pissed, as I'm sure you can imagine and as I'm sure everyone else is about the whole baby thing, but I know she still loves me in her own little way. It'll just take a while for everyone to accept it. Maybe I should leave out the whole marriage thing for now and let her get use to the word baby first.

Look, I'm rambling because I really don't know what to say. You're right about everything you said. I'm stupid, the things I did were stupid, and you're probably going to call me stupid for getting married but damn Justin I just want to do the right thing for this kid, and I fucking miss you. I miss talking to you, I miss you making fun of me, and I miss you making me laugh. We've never met but you're my best friend and not having you to talk to has been eating at me for three months. Over the years you've somehow become my person and now I'm just...lost.

I'm sorry for everything. There are too many things to list but just know that from the bottom of my heart I'm sorry okay? I miss you, I need to talk to you now more then ever, and I'm scared. Please, please, please forgive me...

Soph

***

There is something almost magical about two people who have been married for six years renewing their vows. Then there are people who have been married for six years renewing there vows on the beach in Hawaii in front of no one but the minister, and that...that is about as intimate as two people can get. Two people looking so deeply into each other's eyes that they can see the others persons soul. Feet buried in the sand a wind ever so lightly blowing at the perfect time. Two people telling each other how much they are in love without holding back, without doing it for show. Just pure, undisputable, incredible, magical love.

I've been talking for what seems like hours. Giving reason after reason why I'm so in love with this man but everything that I've said so far is all tied into two things that could have summed this up a whole lot faster, "...Thank you for saving me all those years ago before you even knew what you were doing, and thank you for showing me that not only is it possible for someone to love me, but it's possible for me to love as well."

***

The big day has arrived. This will determine whether or not Rolling Stone permanently hires me or if this is just a freshman internship that will probably be looked over on my resume after graduation. I've been preparing for this for over two months now. I have to ask all of the right questions to not only make it easier on myself to write a great article, but it has to be appealing to the reader as well. This was something I knew I could do, I was born to do this...I loved to do this. Only two things could have made this easier. Number one, I could be interviewing someone I knew about prior to reading all about them during my research, and number two, an E-Mail back from Justin.

It's been a month. I prepared myself for this and in no way shape or form did I really think he was going to write back. But I guess deep down some part of me really did, and since he hasn't, I find myself spacing off and thinking about where he is and what he's doing and if he'll ever forgive me when I should be thinking about the task at hand. This huge interview, rekindling a relationship with my mother, learning how to love my husband, or I don't know...preparing for this baby that's been growing inside of me for four months.

I was being led down a long hallway on the top floor of the Beverly Hills Hotel. Suddenly I felt more unprepared then ever. My hands were shaking and I wasn't sure if I could put one foot in front of the other for much longer. I kept chanting a mantra in my head, 'You can do this. You will not fail. You can do this. You will not fail.' The woman escorting me had a stain on the back of her tan skirt. Should I tell her? No, that would be rude. She knocked on the door at the end of the hallway, opening it before anyone even said to come in, "Sophia Callahan Mr. Timberlake."

He was sitting at a desk pushed up against the wall in the middle of the suite. His hair had been cut since the last picture I saw of him on the internet. The leather jacket he wore hugged his arms a little too tightly. In my opinion it almost looked like if he moved the thing would rip at the seams. I couldn't see his face, but my eyes zoned in on a freckle on the back of his neck. "Thank you." He said it without turning around. Without acknowledging anyone else's existence, and without a second glance the women left me in there alone with him. "I'll be with you in one second, have a seat."

I walked over to the leather couch but right before I sat down I realized I should probably take the chair. It was his room after all and what if he wanted to lie down during the interview. I wasn't intimidated by him as I'm sure most people are when they meet someone of his stature, I was just nervous for my future...for my child's future. Once uncomfortably but properly seated on one of the two chairs my focus went back to the back of his head. His shoulders went up as he took a deep breath and clicked a button on the computer, "There goes nothing," he mumbled under his breath, before standing up promptly cracking his knuckles before violently twisting his neck first to the left then to the right to crack that. It was only then that he turned around and actually recognized the fact that he wasn't alone.

I stood up quickly questioning why I sat down in the first place, and put my hand out to shake his, "Sophia Callahan, how are you doing Mr. Timberlake?"

"Please," he took a sip of water sitting in front of him where he sat on the couch, "Call me Justin. That whole Mr. Timberlake thing drives my crazy." He was looking at the computer that still had his Inbox popped up on the screen and not at me.

"Okay, Justin. So let's get right to it I guess...Thanks for meeting with me first of all-"

"It's all in a days work you know..." As if I wasn't already nervous enough he goes and says that.

"Right...So...Tell me about making the album."

"Well...It's certainly a little bit different working on a solo album rather then one for the group. More work and all that..." Great, at the rate this was going not only would it take me days pull useless information out of this guy to be able to write a semi-respectable piece but there was no way in hell I was going to get hired. And damn it, I know you're a celebrity but maybe you could look at me instead of the computer screen.

"I know you did a lot of work with Pharell on this album had you worked with him before?"

"Yeah, we had done a couple of tracks for other people and for the group in the past. We had chemistry so I knew this would work out for my album. He hooked me up with some great...Did you hear that?"

I looked up from my notepad that I was writing in to see him staring even more intently now at the computer. I noticed that his face was pretty pale and if I knew him I'd probably think he was either about to vomit or cry. "I'm sorry what?"

"I said, did you hear that? Like a ding that you'd normally hear when you got an E-Mail or something..."

It's official this guy is either mentally unstable or he's on a whole load of drugs, and since I know he's been highly successful in the music industry I'm going to go with the latter, "Uh, I didn't but I wasn't really listening for it either."

He got up and started walking towards the computer, "It's just that I'm waiting to hear back from someone. We haven't spoken in a while and we've been friends...God we've been friends for over a decade." He shook his head realizing that he was just hearing things and began walking back over to the couch. The look on his face had changed, he was thinking now, but not about this interview that's for sure. Suddenly he turned his head to look at me dead in the eyes, "Do you have a best friend?"

He caught me off guard and I felt a lump go down my throat as I swallowed, "I uh...Well I guess you could say I had a best friend. We've recently had our differences."

"It's hard to have friends in this business. You don't know who you can trust and who is going to stab you in the back. This girl she's been my friend since I was 10 and I feel like sometimes she's the only one that I can actually say things to and not get beat up by my PR team or have it written in a magazine." I should be writing this down, but I'm not. In his eyes I can see pain and they're pulling me in. They're making me want to give him a hug and tell him everything will be okay even though I don't know if that's true. "All this time...all this time and she doesn't even know who I am."

"So why don't you tell her?" I found myself reaching out to place my hand on his knee that was going up and down as he tapped his foot on the plush carpets below him.

"It's not that easy," he replied shaking his head, "I've been an asshole and she seems to have a whole new life now. Married, kid on the way. I don't think I really matter anymore."

Instinctually I placed my right hand on my growing stomach and thought about the current situation I was in. How similar it all seemed, but how different it actually was. "Sometimes," I started but took a moment to take a breath and actually think of the right thing to say, "How do you know she doesn't need you more then ever right now? How do you know she's not waiting for you to call her and tell her that no matter what you are there for her? No matter how happy or unhappy she may be, no matter how smart or stupid she is when making decisions? How do you know you don't matter when you could be the only thing in her life that actually does?"

"You're right," it was a whisper but I could tell he meant it, "I wish I could just call her or something..."

"So call her! I won't stop you I've got all day. But I will ask that you stop your people when they try and cut me off from this interview because this kind of is a do or die for my job right now."

"It's not that simple," his face went into his hands and he sat there for a moment before sighing heavily and leaning back on the couch, "You're going to think I'm crazy," he trailed off.

"Honestly, I'm just happy you're looking at me and not at the computer at this point. And who cares if I think you're crazy, I'm just a reporter for a magazine it's not like I'm God or something..."

He let out a soft chuckle, "That's something she would say."

"Smart girl." He sighed again and suddenly I felt like I was in a room with a friend trying to figure out the facts of life. I wasn't concerned about my article anymore, I'm sure I could make something up if need be. "Spill it," I threw my notebook and pen down on the coffee table, "totally off record."

"Who are you my therapist?"

"If I sound like your therapist I think you need a new one!"

He took another sip of water letting out a laugh. "I've never actually met this girl. We've been writing to each other for years, and she's kind of always been that person that I go to with everything, but she doesn't know I'm well...me." He stopped for a minute looking like he was debating whether or not he should continue when it clicked in my head. Married. Pregnant. A decade. Justin. I stopped breathing for a second, this couldn't be happening right now. "She's off at school and kind of got herself into a little situation and we've been distant for a while," he turned to look at me and must have saw my face go ghost white. I was starting to sweat and could feel tears welling up in my eyes. How had I not figured this out sooner? "Are you okay?"

Oh shit, he's talking to me. He wants an answer and I don't even know what to say. I mean maybe this is a different Justin, that's totally possible and our stories are just strangely similar. My Justin's last name isn't Timberlake anyway its Randall so I don't even know where I come off thinking this could be true. Then I looked down at my open notebook and saw it on the top line, 'Justin R. Timberlake' with squiggly lines wrapped around it, "What's your middle name?" I croaked out before quickly brushing away a tear I let slip down my cheek away.

"It's Randall, look did I say something wrong?" he handed me a tissue the look of concern growing on his face. I managed to shake my head and I felt a weight being lifted off of my shoulders. All these years, and I had no idea. All these years I wondered what he looked like and now he's sitting right in front of me oblivious to the fact that I'm his Sophie. He was rubbing my back now and offering me some water but I refused it turning a little bit to face him.

"My name is Sophia, I work for Rolling Stone," I said looking at him waiting to see recognition in his eyes.

"I know," he replied quickly staring back at me wondering why I just introduced myself again. And then I saw it. The light bulb went off in his head and he took in a quick breath, "Wait...Rolling Stone?" I nodded not sure whether I should be crying or smiling. Not knowing where this was going to go from here. "But she said Sophia Callahan and...and you got married." I nodded again as his hand went over his mouth, "Oh my god...Soph?"