There are moments in your life when you stop and insulate yourself from your life's whirlwind, for a while you only look at yourself from the outside and then you ask to yourself "But what the hell are you doing?". Because sometimes we aren't just brave enough, we are lazy or we don't simply think enough about what we really are and what we really want, don't we? And so we inexorably continue to do something we don't really love to do, something we do just to please someone else or something one time maybe we loved but that's not just for us more. It was that morning, that Tuesday morning Santana experienced something like this.
She finally got up without being able to stop swearing in the direction of her damn alarm, she went to her wardrobe, thoughtfully caught one of her professional tailleurs and yes...yes...that was the moment...exactly when she closed her light hand around the crutch of that tailleur.
"But what the hell are you doing?" she said almost aloud. Then she put it down and she sat again on her bed beginning to think, losing her deep look through her room's window.
In that exact moment she thought about how many years were passed since the last time she had done something just because she had wanted to...don't know...it's like...like she had lost her braveness...she...don't know...no, no...she was sure...sure, sure...she had been brave...she was the fucking Santana Lopez! She was the fucking brave bitch of Santana Lopez! Where the hell had her braveness gone? She...she was afraid...she was always afraid...afraid of everything...in that moment she thought she hadn't probably had neither the courage to leave her husband if only she hadn't grasped in the act while the asshole was fucking that whore of his partner of his law firm...she had understood he had had a relationship from months, but...yes...she wasn't absolutely proud of herself...and thinking about it again she began to feel only disgusted by herself...disgusted...really disgusted...but stop. Stop, damn, stop. Ok, she had been wrong. Absolutely wrong. But fortunately somehow her marriage had ended and now she finally understood she had the chance to start again. Start again. She would try to find again her braveness, 'cause she was sure, sure that there still was somewhere inside her. She was the fucking Santana Lopez! She had her lovely honey baby, she was still young, she was still fucking hot, she had all the money she needed and even more, she had a wonderful house, she had a wonderful fucking job and yes...she had the chance to live again the way she wanted to!
So she went again to her wardrobe, but this time she didn't direct her hand to a fucking taillueur, no, fuck! She was still 32 years old, holy christ, not 60! Why the hell did she have to dress like her grandma? She was really good in her job and her bosses hadn't chosen right her because of her tailleurs...she hated those fucking dick of tailleurs! She had to be particularly beautiful that day, beautiful and hot and Santana! She chose a pair of clear Marc Jacob jeans, a adherent black and brown top that left bared one shoulder, that old leather black jacket with the fringes on the back and a pair of simple dark brown high heels.
"My honey baby...it's time to wake up..." she finally said to her little daughter when there was half past seven caressing and gently kissing her forehead, Joey murmured something in sleep, then she sweetly opened her brown eyes.
"Hi, mamy...you're so beautiful today!"
"Oohhh, thank you...you're so sweety!" the woman answered kissing again the baby with a huge smile on the cheek this time.
"Dress always like this!" continued the baby jumping off her bed and running happily to the bathroom.
After they had breakfast it was the time of the last touch-up, the woman went to the bathroom...a bit of rimmel more...and...and then yes...yes...oh, yes...finally she recognized her...finally looking at the mirror she recognized her: that was again the real Santana Lopez. She was back. She was officially back.
That morning she collected several kinds of looks: surprised looks, admiring looks, lustful looks, envious looks, lustful looks...lustful looks...lots of lustful looks...yes...maybe the looks were lustful for the major part...but the best look, the best look ever was her look. Brit's look. Oh, yes...yes...'cause lustful and envious looks could make you feel better, feel beautiful, could be the best injection of self-esteem, but...that look...that look by itself would be able to make Santana forget every kind of moodiness and concern...don't know...when the woman arrived at the table of the Italian restaurant where Brit was already waiting for her to come and they eyes met, Santana was overwhelmed and relieved at the same time by that wonderful look...don't know...it was like the blonde with that spontaneous look wanted to say "THIS is you.", "So you're still the woman I knew.", "So you're still the woman I fell in love with.", it was a look of approval...a look of recognition...a look of relief maybe. For a couple of seconds Santana feared to have only imagined it, like in a sort of extremely realistic dream or hope, but...but then Brittany sincerely smiled in her direction:
"You look great, San."
"Thanks, but you're too kind..." answered the brunette sitting on her chair without stopping to fix her eyes deeply into that unforgettable look.
"No, that's just the truth. You're radiant today."
Santana didn't know what to say, she felt only burn like every single time she look at her, so she gently smiled and then, looking down to the menu, she found the courage to reply:
"You're very nice, too. Like always on the other hand."
For some moments only silence, but...somekind she could physically feel her smile.
"Sooo...wow...yesterday I was...totally shocked and...don't know...so much enthusiastic to see you! After all these years! You can't, you absolutely can't imagine how many times I thought about you in all these years!" Brit started again beginning to absently and maybe a bit nervously browse the menu too. Santana barely held the pure and child joyfulness that those few words had made born inside her still madly fallen in love heart:
"Trust me I can. I definitely can." she replied then she looked up to Brit who was smiling proud and satisfied in her direction.
The conversation continued pleasant and spontaneous.
"I absolutely love your baby! She's simply adorable! She's six, isn't she?"
"Yes, yes, yes...she...well...she is the most wonderful happening in my life. Yes, I can say it." Santana answered with a sweety smile, "I would be definitely lost without her."
"And...the father? Are you married or...?"
"Divorced." she simply said putting down her glass after she had drink a bit of black good wine.
Brit felt her body freeze thinking she had asked something too personal, inappropriate and embarrassing:
"Oh, I'm...I'm sorry, I didn't..."
"No, no, no...don't be. Don't worry. It...I...I...kinda walked pass, you know? It...don't misunderstand me, it..it was horrible, especially for Joey and...and...also for me...you can imagine...or maybe not 'cause..." for a couple of seconds she rested in silence fixing her eyes into Brittany's and trying to decide if she couldn't still trust in her.
"You don't have to...if you don't..." Brit interrupted then gracefully gesticulating almost she wanted to say "Don't worry, honey, I understand."
"I know, I know...but I want. I really want. It's just...it's not so simple to say...I think this is the first time I say it to someone exception for my layer, but he doesn't count. Well...I saw my husband while he was...betraying me with her job partner...job and not only...so it seems."
Brit's face turned to sad, she looked to Santana like she had perfectly understood and then she took her hand that was lying on the table, her sincere blue eyes suddenly veiled of tears.
"I can't absolutely imagine how much hard and horrible that moment was. How much I would had been there, there with you to hug you tight. No...you know what? I'm remedying now." she finished, then she came up and in two steps was near to Santana.
"Come here!" she continued and then spread her arms hugging her old friend.
Santana moved herself almost to tears.
"Thank you. Thank you so much." she began to say while they were still hugging, "This means a lot for me. It was...hard...yes...hard. Especially the fact I didn't have someone to tell about and...you know...confess...my feelings...my private feelings."
"But it...catching him in the act, I mean...it...it was the best thing." she continued when Brit sat again, "I think I otherwise didn't have the courage to leave him go, even if I perfectly knew our marriage had ended."
"Oh...c'mon...I can't believe it...you've always been so brave!" Brit interrupted. Santana for a while looked only into her blue eyes diving into them.
"Not always." she ended. Them both understood what she was trying to say without any need of other words.
"But you? Married, engaged, single...?" Santana asked then after they ended to eating the first course, "No, no, no! Let me guess!" she continued stopping her words with a gesture, "Well..married...no. Isn't it?"
"You're right." Brit answered.
"But..." she started again looking at her like she was trying to read the right answer into her face, "...you've a man...a man you've seen since long time ago...a man older than you, not so much, but...six/seven years? And...and he...he is a...a...businessman...divorced, but no sons." she ended then and started to look at her with waiting.
"I knew it." Brit answered seriously.
"What?"
"That you're just a fucking witch!" she ended laughing.
"Am I supposed to deduce from your compliment I guessed it right?" Santana asked pretending superiority and indifference but without being able not to laugh a bit.
"You fucking guessed all right! I confess: I'm a bit scared now! Well...I'm engaged with a man I've seen since six years ago, he's a manager of a company, he's 40, divorced but no sons. And, I confirm it, you're a fucking witch. That's all I have to say!"
Santana tried to smile and laugh and...damn...it was so hard to hide her true feelings, 'cause what she felt in the exact moment the words "I'm engaged" had come out of her mouth were just astonishment, jealousy, disappointment...'cause yes, yes, she had imagined that she wasn't single and that even if she had been she couldn't have any chance to...you know...but...but...don't know...maybe for a while she had hoped so. And disillusion is always hard to face with.
"Do ya know I dreamt you tonight?" Brit said suddenly then. Santana nearly chocked drinking her wine, so then pretended to cough.
"Really? I...ehm...I dreamt you too. "
"Really?" Brit answered extremely surprised, "And what did it happen in your dream?"
Santana started to stammer cursing herself for being so stupid!
"Oh...ehm...we...we were...I was...and...I really don't remember it so well. You know...some...confused memories...there were you and me and...and...my husband...and...but yours?"
"Well...in my dream we were in my dance school but still wearing Cheerios' uniforms and we were talking about your daughter and our...our lives. And then you...well...you kinda...kiss me. So I woke up." the blonde ended lifting a bit her shoulders. You kinda kiss me. Oh, God...Santana felt so good, so cheered up, so brave...
"Nice dream. Aaand...tell me...I was still so good?" she asked with a voice extremely sensual and suggestive.
"Must say...yes. Yes. Very very good. Great kiss." Brit replied and then for a couple of seconds them both started again to eat diving in memories.
Too little time after Santana had to go, she had to return at work, so they got up and slowly walked to the exit.
"Tuesday you will meet the asshole." the brunette said.
"Who?"
"That fucking asshole of my ex-husband. He'll always bring Joey to your lessons 'cause I normally finish to work at 5 p.m. so he is the responsible for take her home or to you from school." the woman explained. Brit seemed very interested in.
"Good, good. I've right got something else I wanna remedy to." she concluded then nodding and kinda planning.
"Oook...I am scared now!" Santana answered laughing, "Scared but curios honestly." she ended smiling in her direction.
"I'm really really glad we met again." Brit whispered when they were on the footpath, tenderly and sincerely smiling.
"Me too."
For a couple of seconds they just looked into the other's eyes, then Santana finally spoke with her scathing and blown timbre that would make everyone melt:
"Sooo...see you Tuesday, Bri-Bri."
Brittany laughed happy and satisfied she had used that old nickname, then, turning back, this time aloud she replied:
"Bye, honey."