"Please say something."
Santana didn't. She just stood there, looking at Rachel's shoes.
"Santana, please," Rachel begged. "Yell, scream, start cursing in Spanish, just… say something."
"What changed?" Santana whispered.
"Sorry, what?"
"What changed?" Santana asked, in a completely calm voice. "You were getting away with it. You weren't acting overcome with guilt. I had no idea - mostly because I never really thought you could cheat on me."
Rachel flinched. Santana hadn't raised her voice, but something in the defeated way she said that cut Rachel to her core.
"So what changed? Obviously something prompted you to tell me."
"She's…blackmailing me. Said she'd go to the press if I didn't pay her."
"How much?"
"Fifty grand."
Santana let out a hollow laugh. She got up and went to the door.
"Santana!" Rachel said, sounding panicked.
"I need to sleep in the guest room tonight," Santana said without turning around. "I need to be alone and think. And I think you do too. We can talk tomorrow, maybe."
"Santana, please," Rachel said, catching her hand. She let a few tears fall when Santana pulled away. "Tell me how to make this right."
Santana stopped just outside their bedroom door. "I don't know how you can make this right," she whispered, before walking down the hall to the spare room.