Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee

BRITT'S POV:

I stretched and started to cool down after a four-hour choreography session with the cast of the hit television musical, Glee for their upcoming episode.

Three years ago, I was offered a job here in Los Angeles as head choreographer. After much thought, and with the heaviest heart, I packed my bags and left New York.

New York.

I sigh at the idea of New York popping into my head again.

New York has been my home.

And I say home not because it's where I spent my college years. Not because it's where my passion for dancing reached its pinnacle. And it's not home because great things have happened to my career in New York.

New York is home because it's where I fell in love.

It's where I met the love of my life.

And it's where I left my heart.

Groaning, I went back to my trailer that I am sharing with my fellow dancer-choreographer and longtime friend, Mike Chang.

"Going home?" The tall Chinese man asks as I walk in.

"Yeah. I'm so tired. I'll just grab some stuff then off I go. How's Tina doing?"

"She's feeling so uneasy. This pregnancy's really tough." He breathes.

"Hug her for me. Are you feeding her well?"

"Of course! What do you take me for?" He feigned hurt.

"Good to know. So, are you both ready for the baby shower next week?"

"Yeah! Tina's super excited. Who else would be there?"

"Uhm, let me see…..Mercedes and Sam have confirmed their attendance. Rachel's flying from New York. Quinn's in London, but she's positive she'll make it. And Sugar, Artie and Blaine would be there too."

"Wow! That's amazing! Thank you for organizing the baby shower Britt, we really appreciate it. Hey, you can invite John too, alright?" I chuckle at his lame attempt.

"Yeah, because you all just love him." I say sarcastically. John and I had been going out in the last six months after my last failed relationship a year ago. He's a writer for LA Times.

"He's nice….." He trailed on, trying to say the right words. "He's just…..uh….."

"It's okay, Mike, you can say it. He's boring."

"That's putting it lightly….." He mutters under his breath, but I heard him nonetheless. "Why are you dating him again? And guys like him? I mean, you definitely deserve better." I look at him intently, communicating silently through my eyes.

He sighs in defeat.

"Fine. It's just…..why? You're clearly still - I mean, I just don't get why you don't -."

I cut off his stuttering. "Mike." I say sternly.

"I'm sorry. I'm overstepping."

"It's cool. I don't get it most of the time, either." Silence. "Listen, I gotta go, okay? See you tomorrow." I gather my things and bid him goodbye.

I arrived at my apartment and went straight to the fridge to grab a drink after checking my voicemail.

I've got three messages. All from John, ranging from asking where I am; why I'm not answering his texts; and if I could join him on a poetry reading tomorrow night.

I rolled my eyes at the device.

John could be so…..

Ugh.

But he's nice and sweet and he's actually there.

I was about to head to my bathroom when there's a knock on my door. Crunching my eyebrows, I walk to answer it.

"Hi." The person on the other end of the door greeted me; but I stayed rooted on my spot, frozen.

"S-San….." I utter in disbelief. "W-What are you - I mean, why….." She smiles at my stumbling state, revealing her dimples.

"Can I come in?"

"S-Sure. I'm sorry, come in." She walks in and it was then that I decided to take in her appearance.

Gray robot shirt, dark skinny jeans and Chucks.

She still hasn't changed.

Three years.

And if it's even possible, she's even more stunning.

"You have a very nice place. Very Brittany-esque." She smiles as she looks around my apartment.

"Thank you. You can take a seat. Have you eaten?"

"Yup." She beams as she plops down on the couch."

"Drinks then?" She grins mischievously at me. "No beer, Santana." I chastised.

"Still so boring I see." She says playfully. "I'm kidding! What do you have then?"

"Uh…..water, OJ, tea, Diet Coke -."

"Diet Coke!" She exclaims and places her feet on top of my center table. I shake my head at her antics.

Some things just don't change. She's still a child, isn't she?

I handed her the soda and sat beside her on the couch.

"You look good." She says as she sips on her Coke.

"Thanks. You too." Silence. "Not that I'm complaining, but to what do I owe this visit?"

"You know…..just wanted to see you….." She smirks.

"Knock it off Santana. If it's been a week after I left, I would have bought that. But it's been three years." I look at her fiercely and she cowers.

"I'm sorry; I've been all over -."

"The world. Of course. Stayed in one place for more than a week?" I ask sarcastically.

"Hmmm….." She looks up, thinking. "No. I suppose I haven't."

"Figures."

"Come on Britt. As you said, it's been years. You can quit the sarcasm."

"Fine. But you haven't answered my question. What brings you here?"

She clears her throat before answering.

"I'm getting married."

I look at her in disbelief - eyes wide and mouth agape.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm getting married. I came to bring you these divorce papers for you to sign." She hands me a brown envelope and I took the papers out to read them; still not uttering a word.

Santana clears her throat again.

"I thought you would have filed them a long time ago -."

"Wow Santana….."

"Britt -."

"Just wow….." I stare at her with fire in my eyes.

"W-What?"

"You come here, after three years…..three years, without a single visit, or call, or anything - to shove these divorce papers on my face -."

"I didn't shove -."

"Shut up!"

"You left, Brittany. You left me." Her jovial mood changed and her face hardened.

"Out."

"What?" She asks me in incredulity.

"Get out." I point at the door.

"Would you -."

"Get out!" She looks at me carefully before slowly getting up and heading out the door.

"Four years. We were married for four years and I still don't get you." She whispers.

"Well maybe if you have stayed home for at least a quarter of those four years, you would." I spat.

"I'll be here tomorrow to get the papers back."

"Get out."

"As you wish, Britt-Britt." And she was gone.

With that, I finally allowed the tears to fall.

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