Author's Note: So after last week's reviews, I came to realize that there are many of you who have no idea the premise of how this story was inspired. That is completely fine, of course, because it really is just centered on a love triangle, but it might help those who are concerned about Rachel understand a little better. Then again, I suppose that is my job and obviously I haven't been doing it well; I tried to add a bit more introspection into this chapter, to help give some perspective to those concerns and clarify certain things, but it just wasn't flowing well. So, please, hang in there (especially since I'm sure no one is going to like this chapter). LOL.
Regardless of all of that, I really want to say thank you again and definitely ask that ALL feedback keep coming. I love the dialogue, whether it is something good or something bad. In the words of Puck, "Bring it." :)
Rachel sat at one of the terminals of the John F. Kennedy airport, her eyes trained on the large open window directly in front of her as she waited for Christopher's plane to arrive. She'd left work early in order to ensure she'd have enough time to get through traffic and security and to the gate on time, but she hated waiting. It was possible the urge to avoid being stagnant was stronger only because she'd been recently confined to a hospital bed, but that had been a week ago. She was completely healed now, and cleared from the doctor just a day after to return home and to work. The more likely excuse for her anxiousness was she was excited to see her son, to welcome him to his new home and finally be together again instead of relying on too-short phone calls and impossibly flawed video chats.
"Mommy!' Christopher shouted the second the doors had opened once the plane had arrived, his small frame criss-crossing between a few of the passengers that were ahead of him before he barrelled into her. She held onto him just as tightly, squeezing the tops of his shoulders as she bent over to envelope him more. The zipper on his backpack was digging into her arm and she could feel snot from his nose seeping through a spot on her shirt where he'd pressed his face deeply, but she didn't care. She nestled him even further into her and didn't pick her head up from peppering his with kisses until she heard someone clear his throat.
Her grip tightened, her smile fading mostly because her mouth gaped open. "Finn?" She felt breathless, confused. She could feel her hands shaking, even though they were still connected to their son's perfect face. "Wh-what are you doing here?"
"Surprise."
His sheepish grin only managed to confuse her more, which she knew was not the effect he was going for; in all fairness, it was rarely the effect such expression had. That smile had gotten him out of a lot of trouble in the years, acting almost as her own personal kryptonite - one he'd passed onto their son, no less. Today, however, she couldn't concentrate on his expression, only his entire being. She'd only been allowed to come straight to the gate because Christopher was intended to be traveling as an unaccompanied minor. When she'd heard someone clearing their throat, she'd assumed it was the flight attendant that had escorted her son, waiting for her signature.
She hadn't expected her husband.
"It's so busy here!" He stated enthusiastically, taking the hand Christopher hadn't planted inside Rachel's while they started to walk toward the baggage claim area, more following the crowd than actually making the decision to move. "Stay close, Buddy."
"Finn," she swallowed heavily, wondering when his name started to sound so foreign to her. They'd kept in contact the entire month she'd been in the city, yet his presence shocked her as much as if Barbra Streisand herself would have walked off that plane. She kept one eye on Christopher as he stood by the baggage carousel, watching the board light up with flight numbers and waiting for their luggage, but turned more to face his father. With a little more force than the first time, she repeated, "What are you doing here?"
"I miss you, Rach," he stated earnestly, his eyes wide and so full of love that she couldn't look away. "I know things are weird right now, but I want to work on us. And, I can't do that from Ohio. And … this is important to you."
Rachel nodded. She knew he meant to sound supportive, but it had been important to her 10 years ago, too, and he hadn't cared then.
"I got a job at a school in Brooklyn for next year." His smile was so proud, and it only managed to widen when she reciprocated, albeit after a surprised sound escaped her mouth. "I know you need your space … that I need to earn back your trust an-and your love." His head bowed before he mumbled, "But, I want to." Then he looked up, determination ablaze in his eyes. "I will."
She was still very much in shock, but she couldn't help but melt a little at his words. There was part of her that was still so upset about what he'd done; she still wasn't ready to talk about it, maybe just because every earlier attempt had ended with one or both of them raising their voices. She knew that whatever it was between the other woman was over, but the details were neither known nor particularly important to her. Still, that avoidance had cultivated a side of her that had been allowed to be selfish, a side that had taken risks and lived more freely than she maybe should have - there was something growing between her and Noah, something that had always been there but never exactly defined. But she couldn't keep living in some fantasy world. The reality was Finn was her husband, and all that time and effort she'd put into loving him couldn't have been for nothing.
"I love you, Rachel."
There was so much truth in the statement, just in his words and the expression shining back at her that she couldn't help but smile even though her eyes trained back onto their son. Christopher was no longer circling the baggage area excitedly, but rather just sitting by the moving carousel. He'd pulled off their two bags of luggage on his own and was just sitting against Finn's large suitcase, looking at them with so much hope. She knew he must want everything to go back to how it used to be, and at the beginning she was sure that was what she wanted, too. Now she knew better, knew things had to change, but still owed it to her son to at least try to make this new life work - for all of them.
"I'm glad you're here," she finally whispered, slowly placing her hand into his open palm.
"Good." He smiled cheekily, swinging their hands between them as they walked to get the bags Christopher was guarding. "Because I don't actually have anywhere to stay."
Just as soon as the light feeling started in her chest, his words barreled on top of it like a boulder. Her grip on the handle of the suitcase was so tight that her knuckles turned white, and she knew the other hand still trapped in his was equally tense. Rachel was ready to see if her and Finn could patch things up with their marriage, become a family again. But she couldn't just pretend what he'd done never happened. It wasn't even because he cheated, but rather because that act had changed everything - her included. She wasn't the same person she was in Lima, and even if she found she could forgive him for cheating, she still didn't know if the new her and him were a good fit.
"I was hoping you'd be able to show me around a little bit so I can pick a good place to live between your place and where I'll be working."
Rachel nodded blankly, going through the motions of hailing a cab and traveling into the city while her mind was preoccupied with everything. She was relieved to know Finn seemed to understand that she wasn't just going to open up her home to him so soon, for them to live as husband and wife. But even letting him stay for a night or two seemed like a bad idea; the apartment was barely going to be big enough for her and Christopher, and she wasn't naive enough to assume he wasn't just buying time until she changed her mind or gave in. The old her probably would have already.
"Rach, your phone."
She jolted as the vibrating filtered into her ear, her hand clutching the small device and seeing that she'd missed at least a dozen text messages. They were all from the office, and based on the urgency she read in all of them, she knew she had to go back to the studio as soon as possible. Her eyes moved to her left, focused on Christopher as he played a game on that stupid handheld console Finn had gotten him earlier. She knew she couldn't take him with her, if only because she wasn't sure what to expect when she arrived. Moving her eyes even further left, she locked gazes with Finn and sighed.
It was a bad idea, but it also wouldn't be the worst solution to a lot of her problems; she didn't have anything setup for Christopher's daytime care until Monday, and considering it was summertime she couldn't count on school to keep him busy. Santana was out of the country more than she wasn't, capitalizing on swimsuit season for exotic photoshoots and fashion shows, and Rachel really didn't want to rely on Kurt and Blaine more than she already knew she would have to. Plus, if the missed texts and phone calls were any indication, things at work were bound to be more hectic than ever, and it would be nice to not have to worry about Christopher if she had to stay late or go in early.
"You can stay at the apartment, but on the couch." Her voice was flat, trying to balance between sounding firm to Finn but gentle to Christopher. "I have to stop back at the office real quick after I drop you off, but it shouldn't be long. We can work on the details later."
He put up no argument to her conditions, and even offered to have pizza delivered for when she got back. However, when she opened the door to the studio, she wasn't sure if she'd make it back out alive; despite the hour - it was after six and people usually filed out around 4, even if it was to catch a business dinner before going home - inside it was absolute chaos. Phones were ringing off the hook, people were literally running around, some desks were empty and others had stacks upon stacks of paper on top. She moved through the building on pure adrenaline, buzzing by the time she reached Noah's office.
"Welcome back," he stated sardonically, letting the earpiece hanging from his shoulder fall to the ground as he walked away from his desk. "No time to beat around the bush." He grabbed the book he'd been searching for, finally lifting his gaze to meet hers. "Jess brought in Johnny, so I fired her. She took her assistant and a couple others with her."
Her eyes widened in shock, shifting toward his office windows to again look at havoc out front. She'd known things with Jessica weren't good, but she hadn't realized others had been on her side. It seemed so dishonest, so deceitful. Noah had provided every single one of those people - whoever they were; she tried to keep away from office gossip, and she hadn't noticed any particular person absent in the rush to get to her desk - their jobs and any opportunity they had afterward would be based on that first step. Now they would be direct competitors, and it didn't seem fair for them to use everything they'd learned courtesy of Noah against him and the studio.
"It's all hands on deck. Client calls, PR … it can all be done from home." He paused for only a second. "I-if you want to do it."
Puck knew he wasn't coming off as cool and collected as he wanted to. His words were coming out faster than normal - no moreso than hers usually came out, but still way too fast for him. Luckily he knew she wouldn't bring it up, thinking his franticness had everything to do with Jessica and nothing to do with her. But, honestly, he couldn't help but wonder whose side she would be on. She'd been upset with him last week about his decision, and since Jessica's firing was directly related to the same issue, Rachel could very well choose to leave with her. Leave him.
"Of course. Whatever you need."
"It's gonna be crazy, Rach," he pushed, though he wasn't sure why. Ever since the thing last week at the hospital, it was like something had shifted between them. But, instead of creating some weird gap or obstacle to overcome, it was like the pieces of the puzzle were finally coming together. It unnerved him, maybe because he knew he'd been waiting for so long to see what the final picture would actually look like. "A lot of work, and I know your kid is here now and ya need …"
"How many times do I need to beg you to let me do my job?" She interrupted, her voice firm. She remembered that day, when he'd been trying to be considerate by cancelling that studio session - it finally got rescheduled and actually had turned into a bigger project than she'd imagined. And she still appreciated his concern, but she wished he'd realize that even if she was having trouble figuring out all aspects of her future (specifically her love life) that she'd made a commitment to him and the studio. She might have originally sided with Jessica regarding the client, but she understood his position. And, more than that, she trusted his judgement. He was the one who'd built the studio from the ground up; he was the reason it was successful. He was the leader, and for once in her life she had absolutely no problem following his direction. And it wasn't just because the job was a priority of hers, but he was.
Somehow, through all the awkwardness and nervous energy and history, he'd managed to show her how important she was to him. He'd opened up this world to her and, in turn, opened up himself to her. Between everything that happened at the hospital and just during the daily grind, she knew she was a priority in his life. And even though her examples were less obvious, she knew she'd reciprocated such. Their relationship had blossomed and flourished faster than she ever thought possible, and she knew Finn's arrival would force that avoidant part of her new life to come to a halt. But that didn't mean he'd stop being important to her or visa versa. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if they were to cross that line they'd been toeing so carefully as of late. What would be different? Nothing? Everything?
"Noah," she tried to keep her tone casual even as she reached out to grab his hand. His eyes bored into hers, but she refused to look away. She wanted him to see her choice in her eyes, knew they didn't need words between them to explain everything going on in both of their heads. Still, after a full minute of the almost-telekinetic conversation, she felt the need to break the tension before one of them did or said something they'd regret - something that would cross that line. "Nice haircut."
He blew out a laugh, using his free hand to scrape over his recently buzzed scalp. It was incredible how much that day played into their current conversation, and how much was different despite the little window of time between the two. The ease of her affection was bordering inappropriate, but instead of pulling away from it, he used it as leverage to maneuver her closer, sliding his other arm around her back and dipping his head down to rest against her shoulder. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes in reprieve as the sweet scent of her shampoo filtered through him, before whispering his gratitude in her ear.
They both knew it had nothing to do with his hair.