It was Christmas 2003. We were all together in the livingroom.
My family, his family, everyone.
It was just a normal Christmas, but I felt like there was a weird tension ever since we entered the house. Like everybody was waiting. We had exchanged gifts already, we were about to sit down for dinner, when he called us back. He gathered us around the Christmas tree. I didn't have a good feeling about all this.
"Santana Lopez?" he called me, and I slowly shuffled forward.
I started internally freaking out when I saw him go down on one knee.
"We have known eachother for quite some years now" he said "And I want us to spend many more together.''
I was hoping with my entire body and soul that I wasn't about to hear the words I was fearing.
"You are the love of my life. Will you do me the extraordinary honour, and marry me?"
I gulped.
The entire room was staring at me.
My family, his family, everyone.
Even the cat was staring at me.
I looked around the room and saw my mother forming a frown on her face. She gave me a look, like she was saying 'What are you doing, Santana? Don't be stupid.'
She had always been very fond of him, so to her, this proposal was a dream come true.
I looked at him and forced a smile "Yeah, I guess .."
A bright smile spread across his face and he jumped up and took me in his arms. I hugged him back, and faked a smile.
This wasn't how I wanted it to turn out.
Any girl would've killed to share this moment with him.
But surprisingly not me.
I didn't like his strong arms around me, and his prieming blue eyes, looking at me with so much love. I found his hair too blond, and his chest too muscular. I didn't like hugging him, he wasn't soft. His voice was too low and he was a flawless cook, a fact most girls would swoon for, but not me. I wanted someone to get messy with, to attempt baking brownies with, but eventually burn them all because we would be too distracted by eachother.
He wasn't the person I needed, or wanted, or would ever want. His house was too clean and his family too kind and his humour too dry and his impressions too weird and his singing too good and I didn't love him at all but yet I said yes.
I said yes, but why?
The whole room was cheering and congratulating and smiling.
My family, his family, everyone.
And I said yes.
We were on a holiday in Corfu when he first told me about her. I found it pretty weird that he hadn't told me anything. We got married a couple of months ago and I had met his family multiple times, but he had never mentioned her.
He told me they looked pretty similar, which isn't that odd since they were twins. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, just like him, he told me. He said she was an artist, she liked to draw, which was pretty great, I thought. Because I liked art. I was more into music than painting, but I could appreciate it for sure. After all, it's all about finding a way to express your soul.
He wasn't that impressed by her creative skills apparently, he said she had more potential than drawing fruit, but if that was what she wanted to do, he would let her go her own way.
I asked him why he had never told me about her, and he said it had never occured to him that he should have. They weren't that close anymore after all. In college they had found their own path, he explained to me. He was going for his studies, to get a decent job, and she kept wandering around in her own world.
As to me, I found that sounding pretty offensive, and I didn't even know the girl. But I kind off wanted to meet her. She seemed like an interesting person.
He told me she was. Interesting, I mean. She could be really sweet, but she wasn't naive. Apparently she had a temper, which he always found disturbing. He wasn't scared of her, there was no reason to be, but he recommended me not to make her angry if I ever met her.
I told him I would probably be able to handle her if I did.
I asked where she was living now, and he said he didn't know. She moved away some time ago, after a couple of tragic love situations, and broken hearts.
When he asked me why I wanted to know more about her, I shrugged.
"I would like to meet her some day." I said, and he nodded at me.
"I don't know if that is possible, but if you really want to, I'll try."
He then kissed me on my temple and stood up to pay the check.
I looked out on the sea, a clear blue sky and a shining sun. The horizon separarated the different shades of blue, and a group of exotic birds flew over my head.
I sipped from my coconut cocktail and thought about life and that exact moment, when I decided to change.
I know he wouldn't want me to tell you all of this, it's not exactly your business. But it's a story that's, well .. Worth telling.
It all started in High School, with this girl I once kissed. We were at a party, everybody was having fun. At a certain moment a girl decided we should play spin the bottle, and so we did. Some people kissed, some didn't want to.
It was all fun and joy and laughter, until it was ofcourse my turn.
I gave the bottle a soft tick with my hand, and it started spinning.
It spinned and spinned and spinned around.
Until it stopped.
I looked up and looked in the eyes of an unknown girl. My friends were all being excited, because Santana Lopez had to kiss a girl.
Normally, I wouldn't have minded. But this wasn't just any girl.
I had never spoken to her, I still haven't actually.
But she smiled at me.
This heavenly smile.
I leaned in and softly kissed her on her lips. I wanted to pull away, but she cupped my cheeks and pulled me back, kissing me more passionately.
As she finally let go of me, I looked her in the eyes and stared.
I stared and people stared at me.
And it felt like they never stopped.
The girl went to my school, I tried avoiding her for a while, but she wouldn't let that happen.
Those secret rendez-vous in places all over school were equally as exciting as terrifying to me. The amazing feeling and the kick of almost getting caught was locked in my bones. She was in my bones.
She was inside of me and there was no possible way to get her out.
But she was a girl.
I had tried, and tried, and tried to let go of her. But that one little piece of me thrived on feeling her lips on mine, and kept desperatley hanging on.
And then, she broke my heart.
Again, and again, and again.
She destroyed my love for her, my love for anyone.
I was young and naive, and the idea she had given me of love was so completely wrong. The idea of loving another woman to me was wrong.
How she had loved me, had given me an unrealistic idea of life.
And that was when I promised myself, to never love a girl again.
We came back from our holiday in August. It was a warm summerday, and the sun made our eyes hurt and our skins burn. The feeling of the sunlight on my back made me smile. He carried in the bags while I sat down in the grass in front of the house.
Our house.
He had insisted on buying a house for us to live in, a house for us to grow old together.
I had never protested against him, that is the main reason why we never fought.
But he didn't love me.
He thought he did, but I wasn't his type. He just didn't realise it yet.
He didn't know me. He knew the idea of me. The me he wanted to see.
Santana Lopez, the perfect house wife, who never argues and always does as anyone says.
He had never seen me before I changed.
He always told me it was love at first sight, that he knew I was the one. I knew it too, that he was the one. But he wasn't the one for me to love.
He just didn't know it yet.
"Come in" he said, and I told him no. I wanted to enjoy the sunlight for a bit longer. He nodded and sat down next to me.
We watched the sunset together, and I was glad that he didn't put his arm around me.
He was a decent guy. He had always been like that. I would've blamed his parents for raising him too well and too strict, but apparently I couldn't. Because of his sister. You'll meet her soon by the way.
Anyone who knew me in High School, would've laughed at me if I introduced them to him.
If I introduced them to my husband.
I would like to say I loved the sound of that, but I didn't.
It was a typical evening in the beginning of Octobre. It wasn't really cold, but I couldn't sit outside anymore. He had just came home from a business trip, so he wasn't up for a busy night.
The fire was burning, and it gave the room a nice, warm glow. I was glad to feel that warmth again, in my days alone at home I had made many attempts to light the fire, but I had never succeeded.
He asked me if I was cold, and I shaked my head, but still he draped a blanket over my bare feet. I hinted a smile at him and picked up a book. While I was pretending to read, my thoughts spinned back to that spinning bottle.
If it hadn't landed on her, I wouldn't be sitting there, cosy by the fire, reading a book that is probably upside down .. Maybe I would even been in bed with the woman I truly loved, maybe with someone I barely knew. My life would've been different. Maybe better, maybe worse.
My fantasies were interrupted by a loud and painful noise.
When I had finally realised it was the doorbell, he was already up on his feet, heading to the frontdoor. I heard the bell ring a couple more times, before the door was opened.
He was talking to someone, he sounded surprised and confused, as I remember. It freaked me out that I could recognize how he felt by the simple sound of his voice, two rooms away from me.
I heard footsteps, but they weren't his.
Just as I put away my book, a woman walked into the room. I instantly knew it was her. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, just like he said. Her cheeks were blushing from the cold outside air, and her tred was light and careful, like she was walking on feathers. She looked at me, and her eyes bored deep into my soul. I felt her gaze lingering on me, like she was fascinated by a creature with the name Santana Lopez.
I wouldn't have blamed her. I was fascinated too, by this angelic, beautiful young woman, suddenly standing in the middle of my house.
I decided to keep up my facade, and I stood up and shaked her hand.
"Hello," I said. "I'm Santana Lopez, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."
She looked at me, still fascinated, interested maybe.
I hinted a smile, to be polite. But when she spoke with that soft, raspy voice, and she curled her lips up in a smile, that was when I broke the promise to myself.
Maybe it was faith, maybe it was not.
"Hi .."
It was the simplest word, yet the sweetest sound I had ever heard.
I looked at her and couldn't help but to smile. We didn't speak, but we knew.
I knew she would love me, and she knew she was the one.
When he walked into the room, at first I didn't notice.
"So, I see you met my wife already" he said, causing us both to turn our heads.
She nodded at him and he smiled and gave her a hug. He asked her what she was suddenly doing at our house, where she had been, and how she was doing. He asked a lot of questions, and she gave a lot of answers. And all I could do was to stare and smile at her.
She sneaked glances at me while she was talking to him, and every time our eyes locked for a nanosecond, I felt my heart flutter and my whole body warm up. I didn't listen to their conversation, though I probably should have, but when I heard him say my name, I looked up.
He asked me if I could give her a tour around the house while he prepared dinner. I nodded and smiled at him.
I turned to her and noticed she was watching me. I nudged my head in the direction of the hall and signed her to come with me. She followed.
I hung up her coat and turned around.
Her lips curled up in a little smile.
"You're beautiful" she said.
I remember blushing, and thinking of something cheesy, but I stayed quiet and smiled at her.
She knew.
I took her upstairs and showed her around. We didn't say much, it wasn't needed. It was when I walked into our bedroom that she started speaking. She held still in the doorway, like she had to be invited in the room to be able to enter. She leaned against the frame and bit her lip.
"Santana," she said. "We can't do this to him"
Only then I realised she had an accent. I didn't know where it came from, but it made her even more gorgeous. I walked up to her, telling her we weren't doing anything wrong. Or anything at all.
She looked me straight in my eyes. "Why did you marry my brother?" she asked me. I gulped, this was the one thing I felt like I couldn't tell her.
"It is obvious you don't love him. Does he really buy it?"
"Everyone does .." I responded quietly.
She stepped closer to me as I looked down, and I felt her arms wrap around my neck.
I hugged her back and sighed.
We fit perfectly together.
She was soft, and cuddly, and sweet. And she knew when to hold me and when to let go.
I loosened my grip and looked at her.
She smiled, and I thanked her for being there, for showing up, for being her.
I had only met her half an hour ago, but I could swear it was the best half hour in my entire life.
I know this sounds strange, and I can tell you it was.
We had never met before, we didn't know eachother at all, but we just knew.
He called us for dinner, she took my hand and we walked down.
It was different, holding her hand. She didn't have a strong grip, her skin was soft and smooth. Her fingers were longer than mine, and her nails were trimmed and polished in a light shade of blue.
She let go of my hand when we walked into the dining room. I sighed, she was right.
We couldn't do that to him.
But yet, we did.
He had no idea why I was eating with my right hand.
He didn't get why I kept smiling at her.
He didn't ask why there was a napkin on my lap.
He didn't know.
That evening, we were sat in the livingroom. He was reading, as he always did, and we sat down on the sofa. She showed me pictures of where she had been, told me stories about her life, and with every word I loved her more. She had been in Europe, she had travelled and worked as a teacher, a dancer, an artist, and so many other. She lived in England for a while, so that was where the accent came from. She got a cat in France, and he had travelled with her since. When I asked her what his name was, she smiled.
"Monsieur Tubbi" she said.
He told me to show her the guestroom, and we stood up from the couch.
I picked up her bag and lead her upstairs.
She held my hand in the hall, smiled at me by the door, and kissed me in her room.
I couldn't stop, I didn't know how.
One look and I was in love.
One kiss got me addicted.
I had lived my entire life running from this, running from myself. With a different view in my head and a wrong feeling in my heart.
But with one look, one kiss, one touch, I knew love. I knew what it was, how it felt, what to do.
She told me with her words and her whispers, she showed me in the following nights.
She was in my bones.
And there was no possible way to get her out.
A/N : Thoughts? Should I continue this or not?