Forgive the inaccuracies, but I stopped watching this a long time ago so I barely know a few details from canon I tried to keep.
This idea found a way into my head, when I really wasn't planning on writing for these characters. If you like it, please let me know. And if you don't, well you can tell me that too. Thank you.
Struggle
The garden looked at her with the bright colors of the spring. It seemed like a space too big to belong to one home, but her father loved gardening — it was one of his favorite hobbies and she was glad he used it as a therapeutic medium to recover from yet another failed relationship. Since her fathers' divorce, Hiram hadn't found himself again, but he seemed to be on the right track with the purchase of a new house.
"It looks lovely, Daddy." Rachel turned to watch his smile as he returned from the kitchen with two cups of tea. "I'm so glad you're building a refuge for yourself. Of course, you're always welcome to visit us in New York, but I'm quite aware it doesn't agree with your nerves. I'll make sure to visit more often."
"I don't need you to babysit me, Rachel." He sat down on his newly purchased chaise longue, and then smiled at nothing in particular. "Even if I do enjoy spending time with you. Did I show you the two extra rooms? I'm still hoping for the day my grandchildren will come and keep me company. Then I'll feel this is a home."
Rachel knew it was a well-meant thought. More than that, she knew he wasn't trying to chasten her for yet another year without little children to spoil, but it certainly felt that way. So far her life had been going according to plan. She had made herself a name in Broadway, gotten a nice group of friends and a gorgeous and talented husband. Dreams hadn't been sweeter. But as Elizabeth, Kurt and Blaine's daughter, grew, she craved more and more to have a baby she could keep. By no means she regretted having carried their child, but if back then the little bug of motherhood had bitten, she was now completely infected with the need to care and provide for a tiny life.
She avoided the topic and instead sipped from her tea — a few drops of lemon and a spoon of honey, just how she liked it.
"Jesse sends his regards. He was terribly sorry not to come, but as you know he's preparing to tour and is quite difficult for him to leave rehearsals."
"I'm sure," Hiram responded dryly.
It wasn't a surprise for her that her father was so cold towards Jesse. LeRoy wasn't fond of him either, which was one of the few things they agreed on those days. They just couldn't seem to shake off the memory of her covered in eggs or the crying that followed their breakup back in high school.
She wasn't going to deny feeling glad Jesse had en excuse not to join her. It was already hard to have him complaining about Lima to add the tension between him and Hiram. And she wasn't even counting on their own issues at the time. Rachel was convinced a little time apart would do them good.
"Sam asked me to come to school and give a little speech for the new students. Sam Evans?" Rachel saw her father nodding, yet he did not look overly enthusiastic about it. "I believe it's quite inspiring to plant the seed on those new performers, and show them you can achieve your dreams."
"Not without some tears, sweat and blood, though."
"Daddy," Rachel muttered under her breath. "Don't be like that."
"I know, I know. You strayed off the path we had planned for you, but luckily you came back. I'm just saying that if you only had followed our advice, everything would've come sooner. Maybe things would be different for all of us."
Those were the words she hated. It wasn't the first time he implied all that coming and going had brought trouble in their home. She knew and was eternally grateful for him to defend her in front of her Dad — Hiram was the one who stood behind her after the many stupid decisions, while LeRoy wanted her to follow his rules. She felt guilty enough as it was. Each time they had the chance, they brought it up. Rachel was very aware they didn't mean to hurt her. She had tried to be a good daughter, but the intensity of her emotions drove her to places none of them thought she'd be. She always wanted things too much and dove head first to try to get them. It was why Jesse was so upset with the idea of having kids — she was pushing too hard.
"I forgot I was meeting an old friend," Rachel babbled quickly, carefully placing her cup over a coaster on the coffee table. "I'm running late. Forgive me, Daddy." She stood up and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek before making a quick exit, with barely enough time to take her handbag and the keys.
Both of them knew she had almost no friends left in town, but those things were easy to ignore to avoid a fight. If they wanted to keep a cordial relationship, they had chosen to look past those little lies. The problem were the big ones they refused to acknowledge.
[#]
After wandering around town for almost an hour, Rachel parked her car near Lima Bean. She wasn't hungry or thirsty, but a excuse to be away from her father's house for a while longer was very welcome. She could very well deal with the pressure from the press and her career, but her family was a different story — they knew her and her plans.
When she approached the register to order, the girl with braces behind it stared at her for a moment longer than necessary, but politely kept on working. Rachel obviously realized the freckled girl had recognized her when she didn't ask for her name and just wrote it on the side of the cup — that earned her an extra tip. After all she was some kind of celebrity, probably the biggest Lima had in the last century. Rachel had never thought that going back would offer her a breather from the hectic life in New York, but it did.
As she waited for her drink, she turned to search for a secluded spot to sit at. When she did, near the stools lined against the back wall, she watched a tall man pouring sugar on his coffee. He was giving her his back, but it was difficult not to appreciate his physique. Her husband, as most of her friends and co-stars were extremely handsome as business required, but they were lean and sophisticated, while this man had broad shoulders and narrow hips that could belong to some action star or an underwear model — the jeans did him a big favor hugging his body. She was not ashamed to study him — as a grown woman, Rachel didn't feel very apologetic for staring at attractive men, not after performing half-naked in front of hundreds of people every night for a few months.
"Rachel?" An aloof boy, tall and ungainly, called to hand her the cup of coffee.
It was at that moment the man she had been looking at turned his head. She almost broke down into hysterical laughter, but instead just snorted rudely. "Of course."
The smirk was the same, but he looked more built if possible, and ruggedly handsome. Noah Puckerman was nothing like the men she knew back in New York. "Hi, Berry," he said with eyes trained in his cup before he took a long swig.
Yes, his arms were lovelier than she remembered.
"Noah." She approached him. Had he always been so big? She felt tiny standing near him. Noah hadn't been extremely tall like Finn, but he was more muscular — she remembered well from the hugs back in the day, when he seemed to cocoon her in his arms. "Never thought I'd see you back in Lima." Her eyes were still on him, but she drank from her cup. The hazel orbs were more intense than before.
Noah shrugged one shoulder. "Moved back almost a year ago. Mom needed help. Becca got engaged."
"Oh."
He chuckled. "And she dumped the guy before the wedding."
"Oh," this time she scrunched up her nose while Noah laughed. It seemed those Puckermans couldn't be tamed, not even the little and sweet Rebecca — who probably wasn't as little as when she last saw her.
"Yeah, and the old man got himself arrested again, so I had to come back to keep my mother from yet again paying his bail and offer him a place to stay." He spoke about it without much emotion, as if he hadn't as well fallen on that horrible man's schemes once. Noah's savings as his dreams were stolen by his own father while still in high school, but he thought it better than having his mother involved with him again. "That pretty much sums up my last year. What about you? How's life treating you, Berry? Or should I say St. James?"
"Berry. I kept my name." She sat down at a table near by, and he soon followed. "I came to visit my father." But that wasn't the whole truth, and she wasn't about to confess she needed some time off from her marriage.
"Hiram. Yes. Got himself a nice place in Willow Street, though the floors cost him a fortune to be redone. Not to be ungrateful, but he gets very obsessed once he decides what he wants." He saw her smiling and then snorted. "But I shouldn't be surprised, right?"
"No, I guess not." Rachel bit her lip and shook her head. "I didn't know you and Daddy talked."
"I did the floors and the roof. Actually, I have to go back next week to work on his studio. He said something about built-in cases."
Noah. She couldn't be too surprised with this information. Out of all her boyfriends, her fathers had always seemed fond of him for whatever reason. It was strange considering all the rumors around him that traveled across town. The married women, the adolescent fatherhood, juvie, the bullying and his stupid haircut. But he always would be the handsome Jewish boy who picked her over popularity and football — the one who caused her to change her mind when she wanted to get a new nose.
"So you're doing repairs or just offered to do this job?"
"I'm working as a contractor."
"That's great!" She was being a bit too enthusiastic, so he chuckled at her. "I mean it. I'm glad you have a nice job, and doing something I'm assuming you like."
"We cannot all be superstars, right? I didn't have it in me. But I do enjoy my job." He stood up after draining the last of his coffee. "And by the way, I should get going. I'm on the clock."
"Right," Rachel replied awkwardly. "Um, have a nice day." She looked up at him, and for some reason she felt small and young, like the girl she had been in high school and not the Broadway starlet she was. In front of Noah Puckerman, she was Rachel, not the Tony winning performer she was in the eyes of her new friends.
"Look, I don't know if you talked to me to be polite or whatever. If you're still the same Rachel I knew back then, you didn't." Noah smirked, because he was absolutely right. She might've been a good girl, but she wasn't nice — she could be ruthless if needed. "So if you want to talk or catch up, maybe complain about your husband using your makeup."
"Noah," she drawled in a chastening tone at which he laughed. "That's preposterous."
"Just call. I'm at the same place I was before you left."
"You're living with your mother?" Her voice rose so loud, his eyes crinkled at the corners and something akin to embarrassment washed over him.
"Just until I finish building my place, but thank you for making me feel like an even bigger loser. Not that your stardom, awards and new life hadn't managed to do that."
"I'm sorry." It was earnest, but the damage was done and some people was staring at them — including a buxom redhead who until then was quite interested in Noah.
He only nodded and muttered his farewells, a tight smile on his lips.
"Would you like to have a drink?" She all but shouted, and again people stared at them. Rachel was aware her people skills were as rusty as ever, but she had the dire need of spending less time feeling guilty around her father and with her head some place other than in her troubles with Jesse.
"Now?"
"No! I'm an actress, not an alcoholic, so unless you're thinking about champagne or mimosas, I'm talking about this Thursday or Friday."
[#]
The hotel's bar was as upper-class as Lima could get. That had been why Rachel had picked it. She was not about to step into a dive bar and risk her reputation if someone happened to tweet a photo of her in a place like that. Other reason was so she felt comfortable and safe in a place where everything was under control. She never meant to make Noah uncomfortable, but by the way he frowned when he arrived, she had managed to do it anyway. Fortunately for them, he soon relaxed when a cold beer was placed in front of him.
"What time did you tell your mom you were coming back?" she quipped.
"Ha-ha. Funny." Noah smiled, nonetheless. He licked his lips and his gaze flicked towards the TV screen behind the bar before settling on her. Rachel giggled.
"It's not everyday I can mock you. Actually, I believe it's a first time for me." She drank through the straw, feeling childish but playful. Old friends could make you feel like that, unless they were Kurt or Santana — they would just forbid her to behave like a teenage girl. She loved them, but she didn't have to agree with them all the time.
"It's fine. I deserve that." He clinked his beer against her cocktail. "Sam said you visited the kids at school and left them pretty starstruck."
"I would've liked to have that kind of hope when I was younger. Not that I needed it, but there were days I felt like it was impossible. Fighting the world was exhausting, and encouragement would've been nice." At her words, he hummed and nodded. Apparently, forgotten was the sarcasm and his need to belittle good intentions. "I didn't know you and Sam still talked."
"We hang out occasionally." He then smiled, a little too much for comfort. "Not much now that he's rekindling his friendship with Q, but I'm trying to look past that."
"I'm sorry?" Rachel shook her head as her eyes widened. She wasn't aware of that piece of information, but she was quite sure Santana knew it — she and Quinn still talked often. It was through her she had learned about Noah and Quinn's breakup almost four years before. Quinn had decided to focus on her career and not wait for him each time he went on tour — ironically, Noah had decided to quit the Air Force two years later, as he had told her. "I thought she was living in New Hampshire."
"Last I knew of her, she was." He sighed after gulping down a good portion of his beer. "I haven't asked about technicalities, but he told me they were in touch and something was going on. Sam's a decent guy, so he wanted to clear things up and tell me before I found out through someone else. Not that I want to talk about it."
"Right." Rachel took a small sip from her drink while her eyes still looked at him. "That's why you brought it up."
Noah chuckled, shaking his head. He had obviously wanted to vent about this news. If Noah kept being the boy he was back in high school, now turned man, he didn't have many true friends and much less people who understood the complexity of his relationship with Quinn. Rachel was one of them, mainly because she had been in his position a few times. It was fine if he wanted to get it off his chest — she would gladly serve as a listener this once.
"It's hard for me to accept she always could move on when it was me she had to move on from." He said it with such resignation, it was as if he had finally given up on the idea of their happily ever after. He had grown out of it.
"I can hardly believe Quinn could forget about you, Noah. You had a child and a meaningful relationship for a long time."
"Time doesn't matter. It's the intensity of it, and we didn't have it. We wanted it, and we loved each other, but we were kids. We knew shit about the world. Songs and dances can't fix our problems now, because they're not the dumb details they were. We can't blame it on hormones and bad decisions. We're adults, and it's fucking hard but I learned. I don't need the girl way out of my league to feel better about myself." Noah smiled at her and with his glass he pointed at her. "You had that clear freshman year. You forgot, but you wanted to be yourself and be happy under your own rules. And I guess I was jealous of that clarity."
Rachel swallowed hard and look away from him. "I'm not sure I'm that certain anymore. There are things that need more than one person to achieve them. It is frustrating when your goals aren't shared by the ones you wish you could share them with. The ones who promised."
They kept quiet for a moment before Noah snorted. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "This is so pathetic of us. It's why I don't like to hang out with old friends."
Rachel laughed loudly, snorting a little. "I'm so sorry!"
"I'm the loser living with my mother, single in a small town, with a friend kind of dating my ex and moping about it with another ex. So I guess my golden years were during high school, and they were fucking bad."
But he laughed and Rachel joined him.
For different reasons they hadn't had the best of adolescences. They both had come from non-traditional families and had troubles they had not been able to control. Who knew if they had done the best they could? At least they tried. They fought and had apparently won. Sure, perhaps they could've transformed into happy and successful adults or not, but that didn't erase the old scars.
"Blaine said you're not that lonely, anyway," Rachel quipped, nudging his side.
"He has a big mouth."
"Maybe, but he's the only one who gets updates from you."
"Yeah, that's because he wasn't supposed to be a blabbermouth." He motioned the bartender for another beer, and once he had it in his hands he kept talking. "And by the way, Kurt and Blaine's little girl looks so much like you. It's a little scary."
Rachel's smile faltered, but then she grinned. "You met Elizabeth?"
"Last year. They were visiting Blaine's parents, I think. I bumped into them at the mall, and saw a carbon copy of Rachel Berry when she was in the first grade."
"No! She's much prettier."
"That's debatable. She's a paler than you, and her eyes aren't the same shade of yours, but it's not hard to tell you were in that mix."
"She's lovely. Liz is extremely sweet, smart and kind."
"Thank God for Blaine, because if that kid had been yours and Kurt's you'd need to tie a rope to her foot so she wouldn't fly away with such a big ego."
"Noah! You're incorrigible."
For a while they filled silence with small talk. It was easier that way, even if Noah wasn't prone to elaborate long sentences when he had to describe his job or the house he was building for himself. Rachel never knew if that was because he didn't like to talk about his life, or because he wasn't used to it. Rachel instead told him about her life and the Hollywood stars she had met — more than once he interrupted her to ask if an actress was as pretty as you saw them on screen or if their breasts were real. But it didn't matter if she went into detail about her job, she purposely left Jesse and her marriage out of their conversation. She didn't need Noah asking about it — there was enough of it with her parents, Kurt and Santana.
When they decided it was time to go home, Noah offered to drive her. At first she refused, since she had taken a cab to get to the hotel and she was perfectly fine doing the same to go back to her father's, but he insisted one time and she caved.
It was soothing to sit in the cabin of his pickup truck, soft music coming through the speakers and having him near.
"This is nice."
He glanced at her curiously. "Driving?"
She hummed. "It's always planes and cars, hurrying to be somewhere and never really enjoying the trip."
"It's fucking Ohio, so I wouldn't enjoy a trip that much."
Rachel laughed, looking at him and that smirk. It was easy to hate herself a bit when she let her eyes wander along the shape of his arms, his profile and the new lines age had carved around his eyes. His strong jaw was the same, as those long lashes she envied. It felt like an scene taken from a cheap romance novel, but she was not about to be dragged somewhere for a lustful night with an old flame. And yet, she did do something it was usual for them.
"Here we are," Noah announced while parking in front of her father's new house. "Hope to see you before you leave."
"Thank you. It was... a good evening of reminiscence."
Noah nodded. "It was. We could repeat if you visit again."
She smiled and stared at his hazel eyes, at the relaxed posture and the warm way his lips curved upwards. "I missed you."
He said nothing and instead chuckled, his gaze sweeping down the street through the windshield. "I'm guessing you barely remembered me."
Alcohol wasn't to blame — she had drunk three glasses of wine over the night and they had little effect on her after the three hours spent together. She just felt the urge, and acted on it. Rachel leaned over the console, and with one hand angled his face to hers. Her lips touched his. They were soft and warm, like all those years ago. After kissing his bottom lip and the corner of his mouth, he gave up and kissed her back. Softly. He didn't put a hand on her, yet she had cradled his face in her hands. His breath brought goose bumps on her skin. The stubble peppering his cheeks felt itchy against her palms.
"I'm not that guy anymore, Rachel. I don't want to be him again," Noah murmured almost into her mouth, while his hands curled around her arms to gently detangle her from him. He was careful, and she couldn't find it in her to be angry at him. Noah was right. He had done so much to grow, and she kept trying to make him stumble and fall. It wasn't the first time she resorted to him when she felt undesirable and weak, but she had no right to use him like that.
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm married! Can we pretend this didn't happen? Could you forgive me?" The words left her mouth quickly as her body try to put distance between them. She was married. Happily so, at least she thought that. It had been the memory of youth and a heated fling. Meaningless, Rachel tried to convince herself.
He faltered one second before painting a tight smile on his face. "Sure. It didn't mean anything."
But pretend and forgive didn't mean forget.
[#]
Long before she had given up on her six in the morning routine. There was barely enough time to keep away the bags under her eyes when parties and gatherings were held at night. Rachel loved a good night of sleep, and therefore she forgot alarm clocks and whatnot. So when she woke up Saturday at almost ten, she didn't feel guilty. That was until she heard voices downstairs. It was quite the inconvenience, considering she was hungry and to get to the kitchen she would need to go through the foyer, quite visible from the living room.
Rachel groaned, but decided to be a little daredevil. With her slippers on, she tiptoed her way down the stairs. She would need to dash to the kitchen but she was very confident in her ability to make it without being seen. By the time she was about to do a little victory dance, her win was taken from her hands.
"Hello, Rach."
She jumped about a foot off the ground and turned to see an amused Noah with her father right behind him.
"You— What are you doing here?"
"Noah came to take measurements for the built-in cases," Hiram explained as he walked past them towards his studio. He was hellbent on starting a new career as a crime novel writer while living off his investments.
"You do know you need books to fill those, right?" Rachel asked teasingly, but her father glared at her.
"I'm sure my daughter will cooperate with my collection."
Noah snickered, and they both watched the older man disappear inside the studio. He lingered for a moment, watching Rachel as she kept her eyes in the direction her father had gone.
"Nice PJs."
Rachel rolled her eyes before turning to see him. Her nightwear wasn't the most sophisticated one — she was at her father's and as much as he liked to treat her like his baby girl, she played the part. Her shorts had tiny cupcakes on them and her tank-top shirt one big cupcake with pink frosting and a smiley face.
"Sexy," Noah offered with a face that implied the opposite.
She laughed. "Thank you. I was thinking of your reaction when I chose them." The implications of that seemingly innocent statement made them both feel uncomfortable, but with a great actress and a superb liar, it was easy to ignore it.
Noah left her to follow Hiram, and Rachel moved towards the kitchen not half as hungry as she had been moments before, but she decided it was best to distract herself making breakfast. An apple and some grapes, plus toasts and cup of coffee were in front of her while she read the paper with no interest.
During the days of her visit, Rachel hadn't done much other than catch up with her reading list, a few new records and pile up some hours of rest. She was still deciding what her next big project would be — she was being offered a record deal and a few minor roles on movies, aside from another big role on Broadway in a new original production. Even if Jesse was clearly favoring the next step in theater, she didn't have things clear. She loved performing live, but she wanted to grow and expand her horizons. Perhaps a small movie role would be a first step, so she could be a big name like Barbra Streisand.
Good thing Lima gave her all the time and peace she needed. It was so different from when she was a teenager.
As she was munching on the last piece of apple, her father and Noah entered the kitchen, talking animatedly about one thing or another — she didn't pay attention to them.
"I have lemonade," Hiram said as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard.
"Water is fine."
Rachel and Noah looked at each other but said nothing.
"Has Noah told you about the place he's building for himself on the outskirts of town?" Hiram wondered aloud, and Rachel swallowed her food quickly to reply.
"He has, though he didn't comment on the details."
"It's technically out of Lima," Noah intervened. "At least five yards from the limit," he quipped.
"How's it going?" Hiram handed the glass with water an a few ice cubes.
"Good. I have most of the structure ready and soon will begin with electrical and plumbing installation. My plans are to have most of it ready before winter, so I can focus on details then." Noah gulped down half of the glass while Rachel looked at him.
There was certain magic in building one's house, knowing the walls had been placed to protect yourself and whoever you chose to share it with. It was a statement of life, too — Noah Puckerman, shaping his life from the ground up.
"May I see it?" Rachel asked him out of nowhere and both men stared at her. "I don't have much to do and... I've never imagined you building anything. Destroying? That I saw plenty during high school."
"If you want, how about tomorrow?" Noah's eyebrows were still knitted together, his confusion showing.
"Perfect."
After Noah left, Hiram sighed heavily and looked at his daughter. Rachel sensed it, but she ignored the unspoken argument. She was tired of feeling conflicted. She didn't need her father's advice or accusations. She knew what she was doing. Right?
"Rachel."
"He's just a friend, Daddy. You know Noah. He has grown so much. Do you think he'd try anything?" She was running upstairs to get dressed and ready so they could go out to the market, but she heard him muttering under his breath.
"I'm not scared of that."
[#]
Noah believed her choice of clothing was amusing. She saw nothing bad in her white mid-length skirt with colorful dots, her white cropped top or her pale pink cardigan. Even the sandals matched her outfit! There was nothing to apologize for. At least that was what she thought until Noah's truck made its way through a dirt road, past a row of trees that kept the properties away from prying eyes. Rachel soon realized her clothes wouldn't be having the best of days as he slowed down and entered a property where grass reached her knees and then dirt looked like it had been mud not long before.
"I should've worn jeans and sneakers."
He laughed and before she flashed him, he helped her out of the truck.
"Come on, Berry. Time for the grand tour. I finished the stair last week, so you and your pretty shoes are safe."
But instead of following him as he quickened his step towards the structure, Rachel stood rooted on her place while looking at the place. She could barely distinguish one room from another and the only thing she was certain of was the roof, but the place was big, maybe even bigger than her Daddy's house, and with all the space the property had, even if not extremely large, Noah would have a great place to live in.
"Something wrong?" Noah asked as he approached her slowly.
"When you said you were building a house for yourself, I imagined something closer to a cottage, or a small bungalow. But this? It didn't cross my mind," she babbled and for a second he seemed embarrassed.
"Why not make it big from the start?"
Rachel smiled up at him. "How many bedrooms?"
"Four." He cleared his throat and stood next to her, pointing at the right places with his hands. "Dining room. Family room. A big kitchen with a solarium next to it to start the day with a nice dose of sun, or a great look of the snow. Main bedroom downstairs with an ensuite. My workshop next to the mudroom, where things get dirty," he joked. "Three bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs, plus a playroom." He smiled at her but her face didn't reflect how happy she felt for him. Rachel didn't even know how to begin to explain it to him.
"You want children."
"Yeah. When the time and, well, the person are right, I want kids." He was certain. There wasn't a hint of doubt in his words, not an ounce of fear.
"Did you plan this with Quinn in mind? Were you with her at the time?" In her head, it seemed like a good question, but when it left her lips, it looked like a very unwise one. She had no reason to need that information — if it had been like that, well it was Noah's problem, not hers. Never hers.
He chuckled. "No. Actually, this came later. After we broke up, my mind and heart were clear. We had different goals, and this is mine." He ducked his head and scratched the back, sighing. "I think after Beth, Quinn decided not to complicate her life with kids. Maybe it's too hard, I don't know. She never talked to me about it, even if I tried. But for me? I know that's all I can ever make right." When Noah didn't get a reply, he turned to watch Rachel with her eyes filled with tears and a couple already running down her cheeks. "Rach?"
"Jesse doesn't want children. He doesn't want to be a parent and I want it so much, Noah." Biting her lip didn't help her with the tears that kept flowing. "I'm sorry! You have beautiful plans and here I am, classic Rachel Berry, always making things about me." The laugh that poured out of her lips was humorless. "Some things never change."
Noah didn't pronounce a word and she soon felt herself wrapped in his arms, her cheek pressed against his chest while her hands gripped the back of his shirt. The gentle rhythm of his heart was able to help her regulate her breathing, until she was calm enough to explain, and let it all out so she could finally feel the weight lifting off her shoulders.
While she had been pregnant with Elizabeth, Rachel had brought up the subject of having children. At the time, Jesse dismissed it and didn't give her a proper answer — they were still young and starting their careers. She believed they had time, but watching Elizabeth grow had been hard. At her insistence, Jesse agreed to try to conceive, but after almost a year of unsuccessful attempts, they had seen a doctor. Apparently Jesse's extreme dieting and rigorous training, that had put his body through tremendous stress, had taken its toll on him. He couldn't have children, and for him that was a sign. When the doctor offered other alternatives, like using a donor or even adopting, Jesse refused adamantly — it was emasculating to be the reason why they couldn't have children of their own. More importantly, he was relieved, because he didn't want anything or anyone that could distract him from his goals.
"And then he told me I should be happy, because my career wouldn't benefit from being away from the spotlight for more than three months." Rachel shook her head. "I had planned ahead to have this year free so I could care for a child, and he didn't care. I'm not saying he doesn't love me, because he's an amazing friend and a great partner, but this is one thing we don't agree on."
"It's a pretty big thing," Noah said.
They were sitting on the steps of the recently finished staircase, both looking outside.
"I know. But then I saw you, and I thought that maybe you understood what it was like giving away a child, even if our circumstances are very different. They are both loved and given what they need. I thought that maybe you'd know how to live like that. And I wanted to ask but I didn't know how."
"I wanted to keep Beth," Noah muttered softly, his hands clasped together and his elbows on his knees. His jaw looked tense. "But I was a kid, so I always knew there was no chance. We didn't have money for another mouth or daycare or anything. But I wanted her. She just wasn't mine to keep. Just like Elizabeth was never yours."
"It never crossed my mind to keep her, but I wanted a family bigger than the two of us. When Elizabeth grew and I saw Kurt and Blaine raising her... I'd like to do that with my own."
"You want to know you can live with that feeling?"
Rachel nodded, and Noah turned sideways to face her, since he was a few steps down from her. "Is it possible to live with the feeling of a piece of you being missing? It seems like a hole I can't fill, no matter how hard I work or the praise I get."
"I'm still waiting, Rach." He opened his arms and looked up. "This house is entertainment until I can fill it with life. And damn, my mother should never hear of this, but I do want to marry and have kids she can spoil. So if you came to me looking for comfort, I'm sorry, but I can't help you."
"Would you change your mind for a woman?" Rachel saw him, and he didn't need to reply because he had given her an answer before. Noah had broken up with Quinn as much as she broke up with him — he wanted a family. Quinn had perhaps done something very difficult by letting him go, and they maybe would always love each other but they were aware they couldn't fulfill their needs together. "Do you still love her?"
"I think I always will. I mean, she gave me the best part of me, even if that part is not with me. And I think she loves me too. At least enough to know we would've ended up miserable together."
"I don't want to seem selfish, but I've always fought for what I want. It's as if I had given up on my dreams of being on Broadway. Had I stayed and had a family, I would feel a part of me missing too."
"He could change his mind, Rach."
She smiled sadly at him. "No. He's just like me. We had everything planned from the get-go." She swallowed hard and kept her big, bright smile on place a fresh tears ran down her face. "Jesse loves me, and because of that he thought I needed this time off to think and make up my mind. He will accept my decision either way." She blinked some tears aways and wiped her cheeks. "Could you please take me back now?"
"Your wish is my command."
Noah stood up, he took her hands and helped her up. Rachel was on the last step, right in front of him. "It would've been so much easier if it had been you," she whispered.
His eyes flickered down, and the corner of his lips turned upwards. "Don't go there, Berry. We had our quota of drama for the day. Even the rest of the year, if I'm being honest."
[#]
At her father's home, Rachel quietly moved looking for him. She found him outside, working on his plants with enthusiasm and singing softly to himself. He was certainly better now, after a long time, but it gave her hope that she wouldn't end up completely destroyed.
"Hello, sweetie."
"Hi, Daddy." Her tone gave her away. Hiram looked up immediately and for a second he studied her expression. There was a wooden armchair close, and she sat on it. "As you know, right now I'm between jobs and I was wondering if you could welcome me in your home for a while. Perhaps more than ten days."
Hiram put his tools aside and tugged his gloves off. "Has something happened?"
She tried to laugh it off, but her face twisted with sorrow. "Jesse and I are getting divorced."
"Honey."
"He doesn't want children." A sob abandoned her and as it did, her father ran to her and hugged her. "I can't overcome that. I won't, so we need to take separate ways." She felt herself being squeezed tight with love and Rachel finally breathed.
It had been so easy to think she was alone in her conundrum, she had forgotten about the people closer to her, the ones who would never doubt her pain and always be on her side for support. Rachel knew the news would take most by surprise, but it was evident they would understand. Her friends knew how passionate she was about goals and dreams, just like Jesse had known — he had confessed he was pretty much renouncing her the moment he put the decision on her hands, but despite his ego, he was allowing her to be happy in the end.
Hiram took his daughter's face in his hands. "This will always be your refuge, sweetie. Always. I'm here for you."
She smiled behind tears.
Perhaps some thought it was selfish, and others that she was being brave. She had no idea, but like when she chose to try her luck as a performer, she had to try. It was all about not giving up.