MAYBE
Disclaimer: We are obviously not Ryan Murphy and do not own nor Glee, nor any of the characters involved. The song used in that chapter is "Maybe" by Emeli Sandé. I suggest you go listen to it while reading the chapter; it really is a good song! (- ItsFinchelLove3) And as if you didn't already know it, the title is from the song "Just Give Me A Reason" by the amazing and talented P!nk. Enjoy!
When we first moved in together
Couldn't keep hands off each other
Now we're lying back to back
In silence in the black
We use to laugh until we cried
You used to look at me and smile
Now we hardly say hello
And feelings never show
April 2018
"We seemed so happy. Why can't we go back to that?"
It's ironic how we're never really what people think we are. For instance, to everyone, they were the perfect little couple: they were married; both had good jobs and looked so in love and settled. Perhaps this was just another way for them to run away from their problems: she would go to all his games and would cheer on him like the perfect wiffey that she ought to be, while he'd go to all her plays openings. And, each time that she'd win one of her numerous awards, he'd be there, clapping with the audience and flashing a big proud smile. However, only they knew the truth: the tears streaming down their faces weren't happy ones, far from that. They were broken and couldn't – or wouldn't – talk to each other outside the public eye.
It had been four months since they had last kissed. While her gaze was now locked everywhere, but at the empty side of the bed, her fingers were stroking her pale red lips, as if trying to remember what it had felt like. Her eyes were starting to fill up with water again and she could already feel the storm approaching. She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry over him anymore, yet, it seemed like her body and mind wanted something else. Every time that she'd walk by a man on the street, every time that she'd see a girlfriend attached to her perfect boyfriend's arm, every time that she'd see a little boy running up to his mother and yelling "Mommy, mommy! Can we go see daddy now?" the only thing she'd think would be: "That should have been me that should have been us."
All the signs seem to say love is lost
but I don't wanna give up what we've got
Maybe
You could stay a bit longer
I could try a bit harder
We could make this work
But maybe, we should stop pretending
We both know we're hurting
Maybe it's time to go
But it wasn't. They had stopped talking about having a family a long time ago, around the same time that they had stopped having sex or even sleeping in the same bed. To whoever would notice it, she'd say it was because of his snoring habits, while he'd blame it on the New York City heat. Both reasons were false: they just didn't want to have to see the other one every morning and think about what they once had.
Slowly, they've stopped talking and then smiling to each other. Later came the day when both simply stopped acknowledging the other's presence. In front of their friends, they would still be the perfect little couple that they were in High School. But once the party was over, no kiss was shared and arms were staying by their owner's side. Still, none of them has ever cheated on the other. On one of his many nights out, Finn may have thought about it once or twice–or was it thrice? –but he would never let the alcohol control his actions and he'd always wake up the next morning with a big hangover and full of guilt. The next day, breakfast would be waiting for her on the table, although there would be no sign of him; that was how she was always able to know what had happened.
For her part, Rachel's costar had always told her that whenever she would get tired of being ignored by what was supposed to be her husband, she only had to knock on his door. She had done it once: two bottles of wine later, he had closed the distance between them two and pressed his lips to her. She had given in to the feeling of being loved by a man, but, as soon as his hands had started to venture a little bit further, she had pushed him off and quickly went back to their house. She had found Finn on the couch as if waiting for her. Without saying a word, she had kissed him on the cheek to relieve herself from her culpability and had gone to sleep: no words had been exchanged, but they both knew what that meant: maybe this was the beginning of the end.
We broke up last Sunday night
Keep on thinking 'bout the fight
Rest my head against the wall
Your bags are by the door
Then your key turns in the lock
You see me on the stairs and stop
Have you had a change of heart
Can we go back to the start
The morning he left, a big fight had just occurred. She had accused him for what had seemed like the thousandth time of having an affair while he had said that she was "just a bitch who didn't care about anything else than her shitty job and couldn't even realize when her marriage was falling apart". They've both said words that they didn't mean, but still, none would take them back. Without a single glance backward, he threw his keys in the designated bowl and started walking toward the door. He did write a note earlier saying where he'd be staying, just in case she'd need to contact him, but no xo's or other affectionate words were added. Silence was filling the house, just like it had been for the last few months. Finally, her eyes met his, pleading him not to leave her alone. She knew he was just waiting for her to say the words; that he only wanted to hear her admit that all this was just a big mistake and misunderstanding and that they could go back to the time where they were truly happy. But she simply couldn't bear herself to say a word. Her mouth was dry from all the crying and no sound would come out. Her lips were trembling and her hands shaking, but still, she just turned around and slightly went back to her bedroom.
With the sound of the door closing, he knew that he wasn't welcome here anymore and that now was the time to leave. He quickly grabbed the handle and, opening the door, exited the apartment. He went past the hallway where they would always kiss before, past the elevator where their neighbors had caught them making out uncountable times and, finally, past the apartment building in which their once cheerful home was located. His brown eyes were joyless and his lips, pressed in a single line, were threatening to let out a muffled cry. He didn't want the world to know that he had failed his marriage and that his wife wouldn't even look at him in the eyes anymore, let alone talk to him. For the first time in many years, he felt like a Lima-loser all over again. His career was going down due to his many alcohol excesses, his family was broken and even his brother had taken the side of his wife. He couldn't imagine what would happen once she'd ask the divorce: he already felt as if he was at the bottom, could it be worse?
A tear slowly made its way through his eyelashes, but he quickly brushed it off. He was a fighter and he had decided to show the world that he was better than all of them, than her. She wouldn't get the best out of him and even though he had loved her one day, did it mean that his life was over? Hell no. However, his heart knew better. Never in a hundred years he'd be able to live without his star by his side. She had made him who he was and now that he was crawling on the floor, well he couldn't get up again. He was tired of fighting, tired of being the bad man, tired of being alone. His life didn't make any sense anymore and he was sure that he could end it right here, right now that no one would care. At least it was pretty clear that his wife wouldn't: what she had done had said it all. Who knows, maybe that's what he was going to do…
But all the signs seem to say love is lost
But I don't wanna give up yet because
Maybe you could stay a bit longer
I could try a bit harder
We could make this work
But maybe, we should stop pretending
We both know we're hurting
Maybe it's time to go
Maybe it's time to go
("Maybe it's time to go")
Maybe it's time to go
We could make it work
We could make it work
She used to tell her fathers that one day she'd get married with her Prince Charming, have many children, live in a beautiful white house on Manhattan, and all of that while singing on Broadway seven times a week. She used to think that life would be simple, that she'd get everything that she wanted the second she'd ask for it and that once acquired, well no one could take it away from her. But what she didn't know is that God, sometimes, has other plans for you. He wants you to suffer, to bawl your eyes out and to beg him to stop and to just give you back the perfect life that you yearn for. Nevertheless, she has come to the point where she understands that God doesn't give a damn about you: you're just one of the many puppets he likes playing with and when he thinks your life is a little bit too easy, what does he do? He puts you on the fastest and most dangerous ride of all. You may be yelling, crying, throwing things at him, he simple does not care.
Her back leaning on her door and her knees threatening to break, she was finally letting herself cry and do everything that she had not wanted to do before, scared that he'd hear her, scared to be vulnerable. Her desperate cries were resounding in the entire apartment and the neighbors were starting to get worried.
"Why? Why me? Why did you take my life away? Why do you want me to suffer that much? Do you find it funny? Hugh? Do you think it's funny to see a poor woman on the floor begging you to give her back her love? Is that what you want?"
So many whys and questions were being thrown everywhere, but still, no answer was coming her way. It's when her eyes caught sight of what was turned upside down on her dresser that she stopped everything. She made her way toward the frame and, taking it in her hand, finally gave herself the time to look at the photograph and smile. It was a picture of the two of them on their honeymoon: he was looking at her as if he had never been more proud while she was trying to act funny in front of the camera. She still remembered that day like it was yesterday. She had asked a stranger if he could take a picture of them at the top of the Eiffel tower and had decided to act silly on that one, just so Finn would never be able to say again that she was always taking posing before the camera way too seriously. Going through those memories again made her think that maybe all wasn't lost and that there was still a chance for them two to win that fight. But God, was she hurting! She didn't even know how to love anymore. Her mind was going a mile a minute and before she knew it herself, she was running out of the house.
Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run.
She didn't know where she was going, but frankly, she didn't care. Every single minute that she and Finn had passed together – the bad like the good ones – was replaying in her head and a big smile was plastered on her face. The first time they had kissed in the auditorium, the first time he had called her beautiful, the first time she had said I Love You, the first time they had made love to one another as husband and wife, the first time they had taken a bath in their new apartment … by then, tears were streaming down her face and she could hardly breath. Withal, she continued running and didn't stop until she was close enough to see a brown door waiting for her.
248, Ap. C – 56th avenue
A mirror was hanging by the door and she looked at herself. Her hair were messy, she had some mascara running down her cheeks – which made her look like a raccoon –, she was wearing an old grey t-shirt way too big for her and some sweatpants that she had bought a long time ago when … when … well, when the incident had happened … But for the first time in her life, she didn't care about all this. She didn't care that she looked desperate, pathetic, and sad, and all the other synonyms of these words: she only cared about one thing.
So she knocked on the door, three short knocks, and waited. She didn't know if he was there, hell she didn't even know if this was the good apartment. But she had a feeling in her guts that somehow, this was the place where she was supposed to be. She waited for what seemed like an entire year, until someone finally opened the door.
It was obvious that he was taken by surprise. They had just left each other a few hours ago and it surely wasn't on good terms. But yet, there she was, looking like she had just woken up and ran a marathon.
"Rachel. I, euh... What're you doing here?"
"I just. I, I, I needed to see you."
Maybe you could stay a bit longer
I could try a bit harder
We could make this work
But maybe, we should stop pretending
Both of us are hurting
Maybe it's time to go
Maybe it's time to go
Maybe we could make this work
Maybe it's time to go
Maybe we could make this work
Maybe it's time to go
Author's note: Okay, so here it is, our first chapter. We've worked so hard on this story and can already affirm that we know where it is going. This first chapter is kind of special since it is the one that "united" us in a way. ItsfinchelLove3 wrote it, DreamMeCory read it and *bam*, a contribution was created. We wrote all the other chapters together and are pretty proud of them.
Do not be afraid to review (and follow of course…), we would like to know if you guys like/love what we've done.
Written by (Twitter names) ItsFinchelLove3 and DreamMeCory.
