Remember, how I told you it gets worse before it gets better…

I promise this story will have a happy ending, but they've got to work through their issues first though or else it wouldn't be very realistic.

Quinn's POV:

I made sure my mom was healthy enough before hopping a flight back to London so I could get back to work and to my life. It had been a week since I'd last seen Santana and I already missed her. It's strange how you can be going through your life thinking things are good and then you see someone you used to feel intense feelings for and within moments, your entire life seems like some kind of play that's waiting for its third act.

My place in the city was nice, but seemed small much like the school did the other night and as I tossed my multitude of bags all around my living room because I was too lazy to unpack, I heard my phone ring in my purse. I walked over to the barstool in the kitchen that I used as my purse holder and pulled it out. I thought it was my mom calling to see if I had landed safely, but as I looked at the screen, I saw Santana Lopez flash across it.

Pound. Pound. Pound. My heart could have ripped through my chest and I clicked to answer and put it to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked instead of greeted.

"Hey." I heard her reply sounding defeated and exhausted.

I looked at my clock. It was 9am here, which meant it was 4am there.

"Are you okay?" I needed to know that more than anything given the time and her tone.

"No. I should have listened to you."

"You told her, didn't you?" I sat in the stool and clutched the phone to my ear leaning over with my elbow on my knee and my palm to my forehead.

"She won't talk to me. It's been like a week and I wasn't supposed to call her, but I did and she didn't answer. I went by her place, but she wouldn't answer the door. I think I've lost her."

"I'm sorry, Santana." I didn't know what else to offer her. I was sorry for her. I was sorry I had caused this problem for her. She had someone she loved and because of me, she may lose her. "What can I do?"

"Nothing. I just needed to talk to someone about this and I can't really talk to anyone else. If I tell Rachel, she'd know about you and I don't want to do that too you. Plus, she'd just remind me about what a fuck up I am sometimes and how awesome my girlfriend is and then lecture me about being a better person. I can't take that. I'd tell Kurt, but it would be pretty much the same thing. All my other friends are also Oli's friends and if she hasn't told them already, she will and then they will all hate me."

"They won't hate you, Santana. They'll be angry with you and yeah, they'll probably yell at you, but they won't hate you. You made a mistake." I lifted my head and looked across the room at the old pictures I had framed on the wall. One was a collage from high school and one was from college. They both had multiple pictures of Santana and I in them.

"They should hate me. I hate me. I kind of hate you too." That hurt. "You know what I mean, right?"

"I guess." I looked at the photo my mom had taken of the two of us on my graduation day.

"You broke my heart, Q." I could hear that she was about to cry.

I wasn't expecting that.

"What?"

"That night in London. For the next two years while you were at Yale. You broke my fucking heart over and over again."

"San, I don't… Did you want-"

"Of course I did. I was just too fucking scared to say anything because you didn't and you made that clear. So, I moved on and had to be okay with it and then you were gone and I lost my best friend too."

"I didn't know, Santana." I stood up and started pacing. "If I would have known…"

"You would have run off sooner." She answered for me.

"I would have told you I felt the same way. It took me longer to realize it, but I would have told you I wanted you. You didn't want a relationship."

I heard only breathing on the other end of the line.

"I wanted one with you." She took a deep breath. "God Quinn, we could have actually had something? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I was going too. What did you think I meant when I said I could marry you, San?" I was getting louder and more frustrated with every syllable. "I was going to ask you out, but you were so excited about that hot Gillian girl and then you said you didn't want a relationship."

"Quinn, you fucking know me. You know I don't just tell people I want things. I don't just put feelings out there like that."

"Yeah well, at least you didn't have to hear the girl you love basically have phone sex in the other room while you cried your eyes out into a pillow. I got the job offer that day, San. I wasn't going to go until I heard you talking to her about whatever she was going to do to you on top of a bar."

"You just said you loved me."

"I did love you. I wanted you. I wanted everything with you, but I couldn't have it and it hurt too much not to have you so I left and it was hard for a while, but it got easier and then I got to a point where I thought I could be happy without you in my life and then my mom talked me into going to that fucking reunion and now I'm hurt all over again because I let you back in and you have someone you love and I thought I could talk to you and be friends again, but I can't." I had made my way into the living room and was lying on the couch using my thumbs to wipe tears off my cheeks. "San, I'm sorry I messed things up for you, but you messed things up for me too."

"I didn't know. If I would've known, Quinn…"

"It doesn't do either of us any good to think about what might have been. I'm here. You're there. You have Olivia. Work things out with her, Santana. Tell her it didn't mean anything. Tell her it will never happen again and that you'll never see me again if that's what it takes."

"I can't tell her it didn't mean anything. It's all over my face that it did and I don't want to lie, Q."

I considered how to respond to her point.

"Tell her it was closure. Tell her it was something you did in response to something that happened years ago and that I ran away before you could get closure on it before."

"Is that what it was, Quinn? Closure?"

I caught another tear before it rolled toward my chin.

"I think that's what it has to be, San."

I clicked the phone off and rolled on my side curling my body into itself.

Quinn's POV:

About 5 ½ Years Ago:

I'd been living in London for about 6 months now and despite missing my mom, my friends, and especially Santana, things were going well. I liked my job even though I was at the bottom of the totem pole and I liked my boss. He seemed to think I had a knack for this stuff and figured I'd be promoted with my own team soon. I'd gotten used to the food again and it was nice to be able to walk just about everywhere from my apartment or flat as they call them here. I'm still getting used to the language even though I do actually speak English.

I sat in the coffee shop I frequented most Saturday mornings and got some work done on my laptop. I looked up toward the door and noticed someone familiar.

"Brittany?"

"Quinn?"

She had walked in with a group of about four and as they walked toward the counter, she made a beeline for me and I stood to hug her.

"Oh my God, what are you doing here?" I asked her as I let go.

"I'm dancing. I'm on tour. We're just grabbing coffee before we head to the airport. We're going to Germany. What are you doing here?"

We both sat down at the small table and I closed my laptop.

"I live her. I got a job here after Yale."

"You know everyone back home is freaking out. No one knows where you are."

I lowered my head.

"That's sort of by design, Brit. I needed to let go of some things and move on and doing it this way made that easier."

"Santana's worried about you."

"She is?" I half-smiled.

"Yeah, you just left without saying anything and she can't get a hold of you. She thought she did something wrong until I told her you weren't talking to me and Rachel said the same thing."

"She didn't do anything wrong. This was just something I needed to do."

"Well, I'm going to at least text her and tell her you're okay."

She pulled out her phone and I put my hand over it.

"Please don't, Brit. I need some time to sort through things. If she knows I'm here…"

"Quinn, what happened with you guys?" She asked as one of the guys she came in with set her iced coffee down in front of her and motioned to his watch.

"Nothing happened."

"Really? Cause I kind of thought you two were together."

I was taken aback by that comment.

"What?"

"Yeah, like since Mr. Schue's wedding. You were all over each other that night and then San told me later what happened and I was like 'Of course it did. That makes sense.' Then, you started spending more time together and then I didn't hear anything from either of you for a while cause I was busy at school explaining to them how numbers work. I thought MIT was a school of geniuses, but they needed a lot of help and I needed a lot of crayons."

I laughed lightly.

"We were just friends. I'm surprised she told you about the wedding." I remembered what else she said. "Wait. What did you mean that it made sense?"

"You two were always on each other. It just seemed like maybe you just needed to share some sweet lady kisses to work it out." She looked at the group who was now over by the door. "Sorry, I've got to go. Our flight leaves soon." She stood.

"Oh, okay. Brit, please don't tell anyone you saw me. My mom knows I'm okay. I just need to figure out some stuff and I need some time to myself to do that. I promise I'll talk to San soon though. I really need you to trust that I need to do things my way."

"You know how everyone thinks I'm dumb?"

"I don't think you're dumb, Brittany."

"I know. You and San are really the only ones who always told me how smart I am. That's one of the reasons we were the Unholy Trinity." I laughed at the memory of that name. It seemed like so long ago that people actually called us that. "My point is that I know there's more to this story than you're telling me and I've talked to Santana a lot since you left, but I know there's more than she's telling me and you both just need to talk to each other."

I smiled at Brittany putting us in our place.

"I'll talk to her when I can. I promise, Brit."

We exchanged goodbyes and I watched as she followed the group of dancers out of the building and into a waiting SUV.

I can't talk to Santana yet. I'm not ready.