A/N: Immediate follow up to Pieces number 66.

Shoulders tensing, Rachel nervously scanned the coffee shop before looking back at her. "Lower your voice," she hissed uncomfortably.

"Lower my – lower my voice?" Santana spat back, shoving the empty cup away, "My girlfriend of three years tells me she wants to break up, and you're fucking telling me to lower my voice?"

"Well, you're the one who told me we should take a break," Rachel angrily retorted, red spreading over her cheeks.

"Rachel!" Santana's voice cracked, "That was because – ! I told you why."

"And I couldn't help you?" Rachel's lower lip trembled, and she shook her head, "I was in the way?"

Santana stared at her. "Rache… Rache," she closed her eyes, taking in a deep, shuddering breath, "Baby, no. You didn't understand." Snapping her eyes open before Rachel could take off on her, a betrayed edge entered her voice, "And you break up with me without asking? You break up with me just because I ask for a break? Break. Not break up."

Wincing at the shrillness of her tone and blinking back tears that had welled up, Rachel crushed her hands to her mouth, shaking her head and hunching over the table. "That's not all, okay?" she gasped, not looking at Santana, swallowing and swallowing again. "I just – it wasn't working."

Santana's face became stony. "I see," she cleared her throat, sitting forward enough to slide her coffee cup back into her hand, "It's not about the break. It's about not working." She stood, shoving back her chair and pausing with her hand still on the table, "It wasn't working. What wasn't working?"

Rachel shook her head, not answering.

Santana's anger flared. "What, Rachel? Stop being a bitch and answer me! Fuck it, you owe me this."

Rachel snapped her head up. "I owe you this?" she repeated. "I… Us, Santana!" she emphasized forcefully, standing up to meet Santana, "We. We weren't working."

"What about us?"

"Everything!" Throwing her hands out and slamming them down onto the table, eyes narrowed in pain and anger and sadness and desperation, Rachel jerked her head back and forth. "Everything. Didn't you see that? We weren't… We just…" She lowered her voice, "We just don't…" Tears rose. "Fit… Anymore."

"That is not an answer, Rachel!" Santana cut her off. Violently swiping at the tears that had started trickling down her face, she took in a deep breath. "You have something to say, say it. Right here. Now. In this café. Look me in the eye." She jabbed her finger in Rachel's direction, uncurling her fist to sweep it across the space in front of her to encompass the café, then bringing it back to herself, "Look me in the eye, and tell me."

"Santana – "

"No. Tell me," Santana repeated, looking fiercer and fiercer as more tears welled and fell, her voice getting hoarse and uneven, "Rachel. You have to. Rachel…" Her voice broke.

Staring at her, tears falling as well, Rachel jerked, trembled, looked away, and swallowed. She nodded. Using her fist to dash away enough moisture so she could keep her eyes open, she met Santana's broken gaze, and opened her mouth.