A/N: I've decided I truly do hate angst... With as much Brittana!Angst as we get on the show, I think I'm only sticking with fluffy awesomeness for them from now on, LOL! This has been oddly therapeutic to write, I do have to say. Probably not for you all to read, though. Our next update is going to be here soon and also the last chapter of this story. I may consider writing an epilogue after that, but with what I have planned it will probably be better not to. ;) Read and review! :D


The office was quiet and a little too cold for Santana's comfort. The lighting was muted in such a manner that she was sure it was supposed to be calming, in addition to the odd music playing from an iPod dock resting on the shelf of a built in bookcase filled with medical texts, self help manuals, and books with no names clearly visible on the spine. Her gaze drifted lazily from one title to the next, reading them slowly. Hope Focused Marriage Counseling... Save Your Marriage Today... Can We Live Happily Ever After? She couldn't help but roll her eyes at some of them, thinking to herself why anyone would even bother reading something by that title.

"Ms. Lopez?"

"Santana," she answered sharply, though she hadn't meant to. She never had taken well to being startled. They'd been sitting in silence so long she'd forgotten there were other people in the room. She turned her attention back to the squatty man sitting across from her in a large wingbacked chair and smiled, her demeanor changing slightly.

"I was just saying how I'm glad that you're here with us today. I know Brittany has been trying to get you to come for some time now. I understand this was a hard choice to make." He looked at her expectantly, resting the clipboard in his hands on his knee as he waited for her to reply.

Santana cut her eyes to Brittany momentarily, knowing that was a mistake as soon as she did it. Brittany was looking rather sullen, shoulders slouched and drawn in on herself. She'd looked like that ever since Santana had shown up in front of the house, ready to go to her therapist with her for their first session. Santana had no idea exactly why, considering how badly Brittany had wanted her to go, and it only served to irritate her. Looking back at the doctor, she smiled wider.

"It was, yes."

"Well, Brittany has told me quite a bit about you. As you know we've also talked about what lead up to your seperation... And I wanted to open today's session with you telling me about that in your own words."

Despite wanting to be open minded, Santana's brow rose. What did it really matter, if they all knew what went down. How many times did he need to hear it to fix it? She decided not to mince words.

"Brittany cheated on me. I caught her finally. I left."

"Did you know that she was cheating on you?" he asked, his question posed as truly inquiring, not to make her feel stupid if she hadn't known. But she had, and she said so. He nodded briefly. "For how long?"

"About four years I guess, I don't really know," she answered, trying not to become flustered at the memories from around that time. Pushing them back she breathed deeply. She felt Brittany shift beside her, but she ignored her.

"Four years. That's a long time to say nothing about what was going on. That must have been difficult for you." He acted as if he was wanting her to speak again, so she did.

"It was, yes."

"How?"

"I'm sorry, I don't really understand the question..." Santana sat up a little straighter, clearing her throat. How? What kind of a stupid question was that? It was like asking a mouse how a snake hurt it once it was already in it's belly. Wasn't that obvious?

"Brittany needs to hear what you went through during those four years," he explained, gesturing to her wife. Santana looked at her briefly, noting how Brittany didn't meet her eyes.

"I..." Santana faltered, not really knowing exactly what to say. How? "I had to treat her exactly the same as I always did, before, even though I knew what was happening. I had to pretend that... everything was normal when it wasn't."

"Your relationship?"

"Yes. Our relationship, our lives..."

"Your lives weren't normal?"

"No," Santana said quickly, as if that was fairly obvious, almost scowling now. "How could our lives be normal if she was doing what she was doing?"

"Why didn't you confront Brittany when you first found out?" he asked, his pencil posed above his clipboard now. Santana frowned openly.

"Because I was afraid of what would happen when I did." She wasn't stupid. She knew why. She was pretty sure Brittany knew why, too. She settled again, her back sinking into the couch slightly. "I don't think I was wrong to be afraid, all things considered."

"Care to elaborate?" he pressed, jotting down something on his stupid clipboard.

"We're here for one," she said irritably, getting tired of his always asking her the difficult questions. Wasn't Brittany ever going to talk? She scowled slightly, waving her hand haphazardly. "We're seperated. I still haven't gotten any answers to anything, as to why or..." She stopped, remembering she had asked Brittany why. Brittany was probably very sure that that was enough of an answer for her. She wondered if she'd be satisfied with anything Brittany could say, deciding automatically that she probably wouldn't be. Brittany had been right; any reason was only an excuse and would never justify what she did. So perhaps the why didn't matter so much.

"Are you prepared to deal with everything now? I know that you took a break, and some people need that to gather their thoughts. Now that you're here with us, I assume you're ready to start to move past and sift through the feelings and events leading up to where you are today. Am I correct?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Santana retorted, her arms crossing over her chest. She quickly realized that could be seen as defensive, and she sighed, dropping her hands into her lap.

"Alright. I've become aware just from some of the things you've said that perhaps Brittany didn't ever discuss exactly what happened?"

He said it lightly, but Santana could tell from the slight glint of hesitance in his statement that she should be wary. She shook her head slightly. The therapist looked over at Brittany and nodded before returning his gaze back to Santana.

"I think now would be a good time to ask whatever questions you may have. Just know that this is a safe environment, and I'm not going to judge either one of you by what you say here or have done in the past. My job here is to facilitate your reconsiliation, and help you start dialogue. So whatever is on your mind, feel free to express that."

Santana ignored his little spiel and turned to face Brittany, settling her gaze on her wife's face. Brittany met her eyes timidly.

"How long? I know I said I knew for four, but how long was it?"

"Seven years," Brittany answered automatically.

Santana's eyes went a little wide at this news, having suspected it was longer than what she originally thought but having no idea it was almost double in length. She really had been blind, hadn't she? Seven years... She mentally counted back in her mind. Before Maya was born. There went her theory of Santana doting too much attention on their daughter that Brittany felt left out or jealous. Brittany fidgeted slightly, feeling the therapist's eyes on her, silently prompting her.

"But it wasn't constantly... There were gaps. Once it was a whole year between..." Brittany faltered, unable to think of a way to describe what she did without flat out saying it.

"Discrepancies," the doctor offered, and Santana cut her eyes to him dangerously.

"Forgetting to take the trash out is a discrepancy; sleeping with someone who is not your significant other is outright betrayal," Santana corrected, feeling color rise to her cheeks. She looked back at Brittany. "How many? Who?"

"Do you really want to know?" the blonde asked softly, her eyes downcast.

No. In reality she didn't want to know any of the details, any names, faces, none of it. The more she knew, the better she was able to imagine it, and she didn't need any more help in that department, her imagination supplying her with more than enough harrowing images in addition to the one time she actually caught Brittany. Her nightmares of seeing her wife in the throes with another person were vivid enough without any factual details. But on the other hand, she admitted to being curious, to wanting to know what exactly had won out over her for seven years. How many people had it taken to satiate her wife when she couldn't? Were they hotter? Smarter? More daring? What had drawn Brittany to them, made them so inticing that she couldn't help herself?

"Yes," Santana said in reply, her eyes boring into Brittany's even though her wife refused to meet them at this point.

"There were seven. Two girls, five guys. You know most of them..."

"Chris," Santana acknowledged, a flash of his panicked face when she'd walked in on them causing her to see red. She waited for Brittany to go on.

"Carrie, Elaina..."

Santana nodded, the two women's faces appearing in her mind's eye easily. One was a make up artist and the other a dancer Santana could admit to finding attractive. Okay, so the girls were pretty. That much was obvious, made a little sense.

"Devon, Josh, Logan..." Brittany hesitated clearing her throat before declaring the last name. "Tyson."

At this Santana visibly started, hearing the name of Brittany's dance company's director. He was an older man, seemingly nice. He never seemed all that interested when she came to visit the studio, though he was polite, and she really couldn't say she knew too much about him. But that was Brittany's boss, and wrong on so many levels she couldn't even comprehend. She already was sickened by this entire debacle, but this made her stomach churn even more.

When Brittany saw her face, her expression hardened, the blonde's face setting in a grimace. After a few moments it faltered, and Brittany broke down in ragged sobs, shoulders shaking as she just let the tears fall.

Santana made no moves to comfort her, stoic beside her hysterical wife. Had she not just been completely blown away, she might have tried, even in their fractured state of matrimony. As it was, she almost got a hint of satisfaction out of listening to the blonde cry, thinking of all the times she'd done exactly the same thing. Finally Brittany was the one feeling pain, obvious, gut-wrenching pain.

At the same time, it saddened her. Brittany wasn't exactly unemotional, in fact she was better with her feelings than Santana was, but when she cried, she meant it. Santana'd almost never seen her carry on like this before, and though it was probably deserved, it was unsettling, and her stomach was doing awkward flips at each ragged breath Brittany attempted to suck in.

"Brittany, I know this is hard for you, but Santana needs to know how this started," the therapist said softly, leaning in closer to Brittany. She met his eyes for brief second, trying to stifle her crying as she nodded. She turned to Santana then and fresh tears spilled over once more.

"Do you remember, when I got my first lead?" she asked waterly, and Santana nodded slowly. It was about a year before Maya was born, when everything really started looking up. She always thought of that first big job as the one that set their life in motion... It enabled them to afford the baby they dreamed of for so long, amongst other things, and lead Brittany to continuing leads and choice teaching positions within the company. Their lifestyle was thanks to that first job.

"I got it because I slept with Tyson."

Santana blinked. All this time she'd thought somebody had finally seen what true talent Brittany possessed, and that her first lead had been well deserved... But it was a lie. Like so many other things.

"You know you didn't have to do that; why would you have done something so stupid?" Santana said, her voice almost pleading. They hadn't been struggling before then, it wasn't like they absolutely needed that opportunity as far as money went. For Brittany's career obviously it was vital, but it would have come in due time, surely. What would have driven Brittany to do something so low as to sleep around for a position?

"I did have to... He offered to pay me, to pay for the IVF for you to get pregnant," she explained, her voice becoming panicky. "He knew we'd been having a hard time, and he knew how much we wanted to get pregnant. He offered and I couldn't turn it down, I just couldn't. I did it for you, so we could have a family," Brittany said through fresh sobs. "I'm sorry, Santana, I know it was wrong but at the time it seemed like the only way, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry..."

She had taken up Santana's hand in her fervor, face strained and fat tears rolling down her cheeks completely unchecked. But none of this registered as Santana sat there, completely dumbstruck, wide eyes unseeing as she was lost in her own rapidly firing thoughts.

How could she not have seen this? She'd asked herself this question probably a million times, but now it was as if for the first time. How could she have missed something this monumental, something that truly affected everything they've ever had together? The impact of every single moment since that first job being an absolute lie... Her own daughter, her pride, her joy, only given to her because Brittany lied and decieved her, played a dangerous game that it turned out only Santana could really lose. How could Brittany do that?

"You disgust me," she finally choked out. "You make me feel ashamed and revolted. How could you do this to me? To our family? How dare you!" She was shaking now, quivering with outrage that quickly gave way to desolation, her own tears coming quickly. She stood up from the couch, shoving Brittany's hands from her own. Her chest ached, as if she couldn't quite get her heart to beat as it needed to, as if it was truly breaking into thousands of tiny pieces.

"Ms. Lopez, please sit, and let's talk through this. I know this was a big shock but you need to talk to your wife," the therapist urged, clipboard forgotten at his side as he stood, a hand out to Santana.

"I'm done talking," she snapped, though the effort was hard as her tears were choking her.

Brittany was now soundlessly sobbing, but Santana didn't care. Looking at her, her own face a mixture of misery and anguish, she shook her head at the blonde.

"I can't believe I ever trusted you. I can't believe I ever loved you."