Chapter 15: Faith

After talking with your father, you drive back to the school, hoping that you'll catch her in time. You need to confront your mother before she can get to Santana. With the information your father gave you, it's obvious the cat's out of the bag. All you can do now is try to control how this goes down.

Not even bothering with the parking lot, you park your car right on the sidewalk. You'll deal with the ticket you're sure to get later.

As you push the front doors open, they feel heavier than usual and you push down the feeling of dread to the bottom of your gut. You shake the feeling off as best you can and make your way through the lifeless halls. Sue's office looks locked up and so does the rest of the admin offices. Realizing that your worst fears may already be happening, you rush straight to Santana's classroom, praying that your mother hasn't already gotten there first.

When you reach her doors and turn inside, the sight you're greeted with already tells you you're too late.

No.

"What are you doing?" Your voice is shaky and soft, and your eyes fall to her hands as she puts a few items into a cardboard box.

Unfazed at your sudden intrusion, she looks up as if it's obvious, "I'm packing my things."

No.

You step inside and shake your head, not wanting to believe it. Before you can speak again she turns away and continues with her packing.

"Did you know Sunshine's parents literally fund the school's music program?" She scoffs, "And now the elders -which by the way I had no idea those still existed- think it's for the best if I just quit before it gets any worse. Before it becomes some big scandal that your parents will have to deal with later."

No.

"Santana, they can't do that. I'll talk to my mom. Sunshine is already graduating in a few weeks. Trust me, they'll get over it after a few months. You just gotta give them time to get over it."

"It's not just about Sunshine. It's about us, too. People are already starting to talk and your mom was very clear-"

"No." You finally say with a stern voice. You won't have it. You won't let this happen to her again. "We'll lie. We'll tell everyone that it's over. We can still make this work, Santana. Like Sue said, we just have to be more careful and maybe you won't have to leave the school."

"I don't think staying at GCA is even an option anymore, Britt." She sighs, finally looking at you and you can't read her expression. You realize it's because it's one you've never seen before. "Plus, I rather leave on my own terms than be fired. Sue said she'd still write me a great recommendation letter if I needed one."

"So then what? You'll go get another job somewhere else? We'll only see each other after school? On the weekends?"

She holds your eyes and you finally see an ounce of confliction within them. But she straightens her posture and just like that it's gone, "I'm moving back to New York. I already asked Kurt if I can use his spare bedroom while I get myself situated and I-"

"Wait, you're leaving Indiana?" You're nearly yelling now but you don't care. You have to turn away to let her words sink in but the only thing you can feel is your heart being ripped from your chest. You feel weak. Like there's nothing you can do to stop her. Her mind is made up, that much is clear. "W-what does that mean for us?"

"Britt," Her voice calls to you softly and like an idiot you turn back to her hoping to find your Santana. But you're met with unchanged eyes, almost a stranger. "You have your whole life here."

"So?"

"What do you mean, so?" Santana jaw tenses, "It's not like they're trying to get rid of you. You're still loved. You still have support here."

"I don't care about any of that."

"Yes, you do." She shakes her head, turning away again and continuing to pack her personal items. How can she act like this? Why is she trying so hard to hide herself from you? This isn't her. This person standing before you is someone else, it has to be.

You take a step forward, eyes pleading, hoping that the sight will bring her back to you, "I'll prove it. I'll leave with you."

"Britt…"

"God dammit, Santana! Why are you doing this? Why won't you work with me?" You're so incredibly frustrated. She's frustrating. "I won't lose you. I just won't. I'll leave it all behind. If you can do it then so can I."

Santana stops her movements but keeps her head down, her hands resting atop the cardboard edges of the box, "Britt, I'm not asking you to do that."

You roll your eyes, throwing your hands up in defeat, "Then what? What do you want from me? You want me to just stay here? You're really just gonna leave me behind and break my heart in the process? Look at you. You're not even trying, Santana."

"If you leave with me," Her eyes close for a moment, "I just... I can't handle you resenting me for that later."

"I won't." You try to tell her, "Santana, I would never resent you."

"But you will." Her facade breaks with a crack in her voice and you feel your heart echo it. You're breaking and you can feel it happening with every shaky word that Santana speaks into existence. "Britt, you'll wake up one day and you'll feel it. You can leave your family and your church, but there's one thing you can't run away from and you know it."

"W-what are you saying?"

She turns to you with what little resolve she has left, "Look me in the eyes and tell me honestly that you don't think what we're doing is a sin." Her face softens and your Santana returns. A sliver of hope. "Right now. Tell me right now that it's not a sin and I swear to god I'll run away with you. Wherever you want to go, we'll go together."

You pause. She's practically begging but the words she needs to hear are stuck in your throat, refusing to coming out. You open your mouth in an attempt to push them out but instead of words, tears begin to fall from your eyes and it's then that you see it. Helplessly you watch as her heart breaks behind her eyes.

"I won't come between you and your faith, Brittany. I just won't. I turned my back on God a long time ago because I thought he didn't love me as I am. But now, thanks to you and this place, I've found him again. I learned that he does love me, completely and wholly. And for me and where I'm at in my faith, I don't believe it's a sin anymore."

She takes a few steadying breaths and you can only stand there, painfully witnessing her failed attempts to fight back the tears that are already falling onto her cheeks.

"But Britt, for you, somewhere deep down in there, you still think it is. And that's okay. It's okay."

You shake your head, not wanting to believe anything she's saying but you already know she's right. She's so right and you hate yourself completely for it.

"Hey, it's okay." Santana steps forward and her hands hold you at your cheeks wiping away the tears as they fall, "Look at me, baby. I love you so much. But right now, we're just going to have to agree to disagree. And maybe one day… one day you won't feel like this anymore, okay? When that happens, hopefully fate will lead us to each other again."

"Please," You choke out a sob and her hands continue to hold you there. "Please don't do this to me."

She kisses you softly and you don't even have the heart to kiss back. You want her to stay. You want to be with her while you figure this out but you know it wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be right to do that to Santana and she knows it, too.

This is something you have to do on your own. This is between you and God, no one else.

"I was doing okay. This whole time, I thought I was doing okay."

"You were." She smiles softly, her thumb caressing your cheek gently, "But, sometimes these things just sneak up on us."

"I promised I wouldn't hurt you, Santana." New tears fall at the realization, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, baby. It's okay."

A goodbye you'll never forget.

It took everything in you to leave. It was too hard to watch her pack. Too hard for the both of you. You poured your hearts out and the tears were almost endless but it really became too much once you both realized she was almost done. You couldn't bear the thought of watching as she packed up the final few things that made the classroom hers.

Your notes. She saved it for last and when she turned to you, new tears were already in her eyes. If your heart wasn't already broken, it would've broken from just that sight.

She must've known that you couldn't stay to watch. Or maybe she didn't want you to. Either way, she moved toward you and embraced you one last time.

She was shaking, her arms holding you tightly like she knew it was the last time she'd be able to hold you. And honestly, if you don't figure things out, it probably will be. When she pulled away, her eyes were red, face flushed from crying, but she held your eyes as she whispered her final goodbye.

I will always love you the most.

It wasn't intentional, but you found yourself driving to your parent's house immediately after leaving the school. Probably because under different circumstances, your mother would be the first person you'd confide in. She would be your shoulder to cry on.

But right now, you don't think you can even look at her.

When you finally work up the strength to get out of your car, you text your father to meet you outside and you sit at the bench on their porch.

Not long after you've made yourself comfortable, the front door swings open and your father walks out, "Your mother kind of filled me in." He takes a seat beside you and you pull your legs up to your chest. "I'm so sorry, babygirl."

"I can't believe mom would do agree to something like that."

"She does what she thinks is best." He tries to justify and your jaw tenses. His arm moves to hold you at his side and you lay your head on his shoulder. It was only a few hours ago that you told him you love Santana. Now, here you are, seeking comfort for your broken heart.

"Santana's leaving. She's leaving Indiana." You mumble, "And I would've left with her, you know. I would've left you all behind. But she… she broke up with me. It's over, dad."

It's a long pause before he speaks. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

You shake your head. You don't think you're ready for that just yet. It's too fresh. "I just need to sit like this for a while. Is that okay?"

"Of course. But your mom might come looking for me though. I think I'm supposed to be stirring a pot on the stove."

You chuckle softly at that, taking comfort in knowing that you come first, even if that means burning down his kitchen. But then you think of your mother and you frown, "I don't know if I could ever forgive her, dad."

"You know she loves you, right?" He kisses your forehead softly and you nod.

"But that doesn't excuse what she did."

He hums, "No, it does not."

"Does she know how much this hurts?" You begin to tear up again but you quickly wipe your eyes, hoping that the action will somehow rid the pain from your heart as well. It obviously doesn't.

"I know you might not see this right now," He rubs at your arm and you allow a few tears to fall this time, "But everything she does, she does for you. She only wants the best for you, babygirl."

You choke out a sob, "How can you say that? After today, how can I possibly think that?"

"God has a plan, Pierce, and that plan starts with us." He says as if he's reciting it. "That's what she said to me when she told me she wanted to foster you. When she wanted to adopt you she said that God told her that you were meant to be with us. I knew it then and I know it now. Your mother would do everything in her power to keep you safe and happy."

"Look at me," You sit up and wipe at your checks, your eyes bloodshot and checks burned red, "Does this look happy to you?"

Your father ducks his head and you almost feel bad for snapping at him but you're hurt he's defending her. You're hurt, but really you should've known he would take her side.

He doesn't push further and you know it's because he's treading unknown water. He doesn't want to say the wrong thing.

Just in that moment, your mother walks out carrying two bowls of your favorite ice cream and places them in your father's hands. She looks to you but you turn away. You can't. You feel betrayed and angry and right now you need more than an ice cream apology from her.

You hear her sigh before retreating back into the house.

"So," Your father clears his throat once you're alone again, "You really would've left us? You would've chosen Santana?" He frowns a little and you're caught off guard by his question, realizing he must be hurt from your confession earlier. Not only that but you know what he's implying.

You shake your head, "She didn't ask me to choose. But she wouldn't let me go with her."

"Why?"

"I-" You start to speak but your voice catches in your throat again, similar to when Santana asked you to say what she wanted to hear. The realization hits that your hurt and anger is misplaced because ultimately, the only person you can blame is yourself.

"Is it because of your faith?"

You nod silently.

"Because you still think it's a sin?" He asks, his natural intuition never failing.

"I don't exactly know what I think."

"But you don't know it's not a sin?"

You nod again and he hums. He's trying not to pry but he's obviously still curious.

"She asked me to say it wasn't but I couldn't." Your voice cracks, "I broke her heart, dad. She trusted me but I was too stupid. Too selfish. I thought I figured it all out but I obviously hadn't. How am I supposed move on from this?"

"It just takes time, babygirl." He holds you tighter, "These things just take time."

It takes less than a week for Santana to leave for New York and you fight with the thought of her not wanting to stick around for you because you know it's more than that. You know she still loves you but it wouldn't be fair to have her wait for you to figure yourself out.

And that's what scares you the most because, what if you never do?

At one point, you found yourself always driving an extra 15 minutes home, changing your route so that you can pass by Santana's house. Watching, day by day, as Santana's home slowly became occupied with new tenants. A perfectly ordinary family, with a dog even, and the only thing you can think of is how they're invading a space that doesn't belong to them.

Eventually, you reverted back to your normal route and instead focused your energies elsewhere. You combed through your entire home for everything and anything that may belong to Santana. Every time you would find something you would text it to her, asking if she wanted it back. To be perfectly honest, you'd mail a single hair tie if that meant some kind of interaction with her.

You were going insane. You knew you needed to move on but you thought that if you were sly enough, maybe she would at the very least open a line of communication and you two could try to cultivate some sort of friendship.

So many texts were sent to her.

None were responded to.

It's obvious that she's cutting things off on her end and you don't know what hurts you more, the fact that you're the one that caused this, or the fact that you had hoped to still remain friends.

It hurts like nothing you've ever felt before and the fact that she's hurting too doesn't make things easier. But as much as you want to give her that space to heal, you don't want to allow her the room to fall out of love with you. Which is, again, selfish of you.

You hate this.

Praying doesn't help.

It only leads to more crying.

After another week of texting Santana only to be met with radio silence, you finally receive a single text from her.

San: Please, Britt. I need you to stop texting me. I can't handle it.

Her words break your heart all over again and you spend another week crying your eyes out because of it. You don't want things to end like this. You can't have the last interaction be one born from hurt but you also want to respect the boundary she so very clearly set.

So, you resist. Your finger hovers over the send button because you want to say it one last time but you know it will only do more harm that good. She already knows you love her.

That's why it hurts so much.

Two months. That's how long it took before you officially decided to store away the keyboard piano that Santana left in your living room. At first, you left it in its place, to serve as a constant reminder of Santana's absence. A constant reminder of the way she treated you. Like you were her whole world. A reminder of the birthday gift she had given you.

You thought it would help to see it, to remember that there's a reason why you feel the way you feel. That you should be working towards a goal to find your way back to her. To find a way to make things work out in your favor and finally make yourself whole again.

But it didn't help. If anything, it made things worse. You would sit at the piano some days and hover your fingertips over the keys, willing yourself to play the few songs that she's taught you but unable to actually do so.

It takes you two months to realize that the goal is not to get back to her. It can't be.

You need to focus. You need to zero in on the root of everything. The disappointment and self-hate, the pain you feel is not rooted in Santana's absence.

It's with you. It's with God. It's with your faith.

Santana was right. This is the one thing you can't run away from. Pushing everything down and bottling it up only leads to fracturing your relationship with God even more. It would've lead to resentment.

So, you store it all away. Her keyboard, her books, her clothes, and most importantly your birthday present. The only way out of this, is if you move on.

You need to move on.

End of Act I

AN: Have faith, friends! I promised you all a happy ending and dang it that's what you're gonna get :)