Recap to ease everyone back into this story:
Since so much time has passed, here's what happened thus far on KMWTLI…
Santana and Brittany were happily married and hesitantly optimistic about trying one last time for a baby before they were completely drained of money and hope. Santana was even willing to give up her stage career in a successful off-Broadway musical to ease the strain on her body, praying it would give her the last needed edge to get pregnant.
Brittany was waiting tables but caught a break when Rachel was cast as the lead in Funny Girl and recommended her as a chorus dancer. In turn, the girls introduced Rachel to their downstairs neighbor, Grayson Knox, and the two formed an instant connection and started dating.
Quinn was highly praised as a drama professor at Yale University in Connecticut though melancholy over a string of bad relationships. She was longing for her lost love Cate Boyd, but she had not heard anything about Cate in years.
The girls were thrilled when they found out the fertility treatments worked and Santana was pregnant. Funny Girl opened and was an instant success, keeping Rachel and Brittany very busy.
Quinn bumped into Puck at the premiere party, got extremely drunk, and slept with him for comfort. The next morning, Quinn reminded him she was gay and sex between them should never have happened so Puck stormed out. Then, because Quinn has the worst luck ever, she found out she was pregnant.
Santana randomly found Cate in a West Village bakery, slipped Quinn's number to her, and hoped Cupid would do the rest. It worked. Cate contacted Quinn, and they ended up rekindling their love affair. Cate wasn't even deterred when Quinn revealed she was pregnant with Puck's baby…again. Quinn took a coveted theatre job and moved to Manhattan, and now she and Cate are engaged and planning their wedding.
Tragically, Santana had a miscarriage and started shutting out everyone and everything, including Brittany. Things worsened when Santana started drinking more and more. She took out her grief and depression on Brittany until she drove Brittany away.
Brittany has stayed with the show's choreographer, Dominic Serra, in his fancy, uptown apartment. Dominic has been extremely kind and generous to Brittany, allowing her the space she desperately needed from Santana and the loss of their baby.
Grayson watched over Santana and ultimately helped her get sober and get her life out of the gutter, even stopping her from having a one night stand with a girl she drunkenly brought back to the apartment.
After that, Santana relied on Brittany's old boss, Frap, to get a job waitressing at his restaurant. She tried to learn the art of waiting tables, but she was horrible at it. Frap has a great fondness for Brittany and wanted to help Santana the best way he knew how, so he gave her an envelope of cash and sent her home to focus on her show business aspirations.
Santana has struggled with auditions recently. One was an embarrassing spectacle where she was asked to strip for the producers. She walked out in disgust.
In the chapter posted last time, Kurt and Blaine hosted their annual Halloween party. Everyone attended, even Santana. When she crossed paths with Quinn, it gave the best friends a chance to mend hurtful things Santana said about Quinn's unexpected pregnancy. All seemed well, except that Brittany was a no-show. Santana left the party brokenhearted.
And that's what you missed on…Keep Me Where the Light Is!
Keep Me Where the Light Is (part 21)
Woke up, such a bad dream
I stayed, you were leaving
With my heart, you were stealing
I don't care, I'd let you take it…
Showed up, like a good girl
I fell, for your fable
But I'm no Cinderella
I don't care, I'd let you take it…
Put us back together
You said, it's forever
But I know, you're pretending
I don't care, I'd let you take it
All again...
And I just wanna love you
Don't wanna lose me
Don't wanna lose you, whoa oh
If it gets harder
Then I don't wanna break all alone
I wanna break in your…
I just wanna love you
Don't wanna lose me
Don't wanna lose you, whoa oh
If it gets harder
Then I don't wanna break all alone
I wanna break in your…
Whoa oh oh, whoa oh oh
(Don't wanna break in your)
And if it gets harder
Then I don't wanna break all alone
I wanna break in your arms.
Sometimes, when I'm sleeping
I still, feel you breathing
You stole, all my good dreams
I don't care, I'd let you take it…
Come on, listen closely
To the sound, that our love made
If you go, I would follow
I don't care, I'd let you take it,
All again, mmmm…
I just wanna love you
Don't wanna lose me
Don't wanna lose you, whoa oh
If it gets harder
Then I don't wanna break all alone
I wanna break in your…
I just wanna love you
Don't wanna lose me
Don't wanna lose you, whoa oh
If it gets harder
Then I don't wanna break all alone
I wanna break in your arms….
(I Don't Wanna Break ~ Christina Perri)
Tuesday, November 8, 2022
2:18 PM
Honk.
Santana Lopez stopped mid-crosswalk and slammed her palm down on the hood of a yellow taxi cab which halted inches from her.
"Excuse you!" she shouted at the cab's driver.
The man's heavily accented voice could be heard out its window. The young Latina was unsure what he said, but there was little doubt of his tone.
Santana took a step toward the other side of the intersection, but when the cab eased forward another inch, it lightly grazed the top part of her brown, knee-high boot.
"HEY!" she screamed back at him, looking down at the small scuff, "This is Italian leather!"
The cabbie shrugged then rolled forward through his left turn.
"Asshole," Santana said over her shoulder as she stepped up on the curb and continued down Greenwich Street in the West Village.
She checked the time on her watch. 2:21 PM. She quickened her pace as she looked again at the ornate timepiece. It had been a gift from Brittany on Santana's twenty-fifth birthday, meant as a playful reminder to help Santana be on time more often.
Santana snickered to herself at the fact she was already six minutes late for coffee with Cate, but then her whole face beamed, knowing the engraving on the back read You'll always be worth the wait – B.
She pushed away the happy memory. Memories were too hard for her now. She took a deep breath and crossed another intersection, making sure she looked first this time. Safely across, she turned right onto Charles Street.
Once inside MOJO Coffee, Santana searched the crowd of faces for Cate Boyd.
Not seeing her, the beautiful brunette approached the counter and ordered, "Large Cortado, in-house please."
"Six dollars," the cashier told her.
Santana paid and stepped aside to wait for one of the few wooden tables to clear. She looked at her watch again. 2:27 PM. Come on, Cate, she thought as she groaned internally. Someone else being late was definitely worse to Santana than being late herself.
She admired some of the featured photography on the wall, focusing for several seconds on one particular photograph.
"That was taken just a few steps from here," a man said from a nearby table.
She turned her head toward his voice.
"The colors are breathtaking," Santana told him, captivated by the vivid autumn leaves.
"That's what I love about lower Manhattan. You may be walking down a busy boulevard then you turn down any side street…to be greeted by a burst of beauty."
The man smiled at her the way a man smiles at any beautiful woman. Santana blushed in response but hid it well by turning her head back toward the photograph.
"You can sit while you wait for your friend," the man pointed toward the empty chair across from him.
"How do you know I'm waiting for someone?" Santana asked dismissively over her shoulder.
"You ordered in-house," he paused, "…and I saw you check your watch."
She turned toward him again, finding a smug expression hugging his thin lips.
"Hmm…is this what you do?" she asked.
"Do? What exactly?"
"Sit here all afternoon and stalk coffee orders," she elaborated.
"Actually, that is what I do," the man pointed up at the photographs.
"You are a photographer?"
"I'm that photographer," he smiled proudly.
Santana's eyes scanned the wall, stopping on a headshot of a man with the same ruggedly handsome face as the man in front of her. The name above the framed bio read Miller Baskin.
The Latina smiled awkwardly.
"Miller Baskin," the man nodded, "Please sit."
Seeing no other available chairs, Santana sat just as the waitress put her coffee in front of her.
"Thank you," Santana replied.
The girl also set a white, porcelain plate on the table, saying to Miller, "Fresh out of the oven."
The plate had a large cookie on it, and Miller grinned charmingly, "Thanks, Liv."
"No problem," she returned the smile, clearly smitten with the older man.
"Have you ever tried a Maple Bacon Cookie?"
"No," Santana chuckled at the idea of bacon in a cookie.
"Never?" he said with feigned shock in his voice.
"Never," she confirmed.
"But…it's bacon. Bacon in a cookie. It's nothing short of genius," he joked, breaking apart the warm pastry and taking a bite, "Here…take half."
Santana smiled pleasantly but waved him off.
"I insist," he tried again.
"I'm fine," she laughed, appreciating his silliness.
"You sure? Last chance," he winked at her before eating the remaining half.
Santana took a sip of her coffee, she could see why Cate bragged about it.
"So you know my name," Miller stated, "Do I get to know yours?"
"Santana," she said then took another sip.
He watched her a moment, the shine in her long dark hair, the ambiguity in her dark eyes, the exactness with which she moved. He couldn't read her the way he read other women, and he liked that.
"Have you ever been photographed, Santana?"
"Many times," she replied then offered, as if an explanation was necessary, "I'm an actress."
"Of course you are," he validated, "A very beautiful one."
She blushed again and took another sip.
"And a modest one," he added.
"I'm married," she said bluntly. She instinctively moved her right hand to twist the wedding ring she'd always worn on her left ring finger, but then she remembered it wasn't there.
Miller laughed audaciously, "I can't admire you professionally?"
Santana shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Perhaps she misjudged his intentions, and now she felt self-conscious. She looked quickly over her shoulder for Cate's much-needed arrival. Not seeing her friend, she settled herself with a deep breath.
"I'm sorry," she told him.
"Don't be. I'm always watching for an interesting subject," he said.
"And you find me interesting?" she asked with a skeptical tone.
"Very," he assured her, asking delicately, "Are you currently working?"
"Currently looking actually," she answered.
He noticed that Santana bit at her bottom lip.
"If it's not too presumptuous of me…I'm starting a new project next week that you'd be perfect for. Are you available?"
Santana's eyes narrowed. This seems too good to be true, she told herself.
"You seem suspicious," Miller inferred from her body language.
"Wouldn't you be?" she chuckled slightly.
"Well…I know me," he retorted with another wink, "And…I think I'm pretty cool."
That got a bigger laugh from the attractive brunette. "Oh you are, are you?"
"Yes, ma'am," he reached to the floor for his leather messenger bag, "but I tell you what…I'll leave you to look over my work that's here at the shop." He slid his business card across the table, pushing it under the plate that held her coffee cup. "Think about it, and if you decide you're interested in more details, give me a call."
Santana looked down at the small, black card, but she didn't reach for it. "I'll think about it."
Miller smiled and nodded, "Great."
He picked up his bag and threw a five dollar bill on the table.
"Enjoy the rest of your day, Santana."
Santana Lopez watched the door open and close as Miller Baskin walked out and Cate Boyd walked inside MOJO Coffee.
The older brunette gazed the interior then smiled upon locating Santana at a table in the back corner.
Santana waived Cate over then motioned for the waitress, "I'll take a refill please."
"No problem," the girl replied and waited for Cate to sit before asking, "What can I get you?"
"House brew, black…thanks," Cate told her, taking off her leather jacket and draping it around the back of her metal seat. She didn't skip a beat, telling Santana, "I'm sooo sorry. My interview ran longer than I anticipated."
"No worries," the Latina assured her, "That's good though, right?"
"Yeah, seems so…I hope anyway," Cate chuckled, "They had me meet with three separate people."
"That is good!" Santana was excited for her.
"The pay is minimal since it's more or less an internship until I graduate law school."
"Still…Tomson and March is very well-known," Santana wanted to bolster Cate's confidence, "I know I've heard of it…in the news and stuff."
"They're a big law firm, and they do a lot of constitutional law which is something I'd really enjoy long-term," Cate revealed, "So yeah, this would be a dream opportunity."
The waitress returned with two large cups of coffee, setting them down and asking Cate, "Did you need any cream?"
"No, this is fine," she answered.
When the girl walked away, Santana stirred a packet of sugar into her cup, saying with a chuckle, "I don't know how you drink that black."
Cate laughed with her, "Too many all-night study sessions over the past three years. I've gotta drink it straight up to get that buzz." She paused as she took a sip then, setting her cup back down, she continued, "…But enough about me. How's the auditioning going?"
"Brutal," Santana sighed.
"Didn't you have some recent stuff?"
"I had four open auditions last week. Two were equity, one was not, and the other was a complete joke." Santana physically shuddered at the memory of the creepy burlesque one.
Cate gave her an empathetic look. "I'm sorry."
"Me too," Santana grimaced, "But then the weirdest thing happened just now."
"Here?"
"Yeah," the Latina picked up Miller Baskin's business card and handed it to the older brunette, telling her, "This guy offered me a job…or at least, I think he did."
"Miller Baskin, Photographer," Cate read.
"Random, right?"
"I thought that only happened in movies?"
Santana gave an awkward giggle, "Me too."
"Do you think you'll take it?"
"I sort of want to…but it seems too odd to me. What do you think?"
"I think you should follow your gut instinct," Cate suggested, "But sometimes stepping outside your comfort zone leads to great things, right?"
"Possibly," Santana still felt unsure, pausing a moment to reflect on her earlier encounter. The sound of Cate's coffee cup clanking against its plate roused her back to the present. "So you said you wanted to tell me something?"
Cate Boyd ran a quick hand through her short brown hair and shifted in her chair. "Oh right, I did," she started, "It's about the wedding."
"Have you two set a date?" Santana was glad to have made up with Quinn recently. She hated fighting with her best friend, especially since Santana needed all the support she could surround herself with while she was estranged from Brittany.
She knew Cate and Quinn were perfectly matched, and she was thrilled to find out the two planned to marry and raise Quinn's baby together.
"My preference is right away, but I want Quinn to have all the bells and whistles that go along with a wedding," Cate stated.
"Quinn is all about the details," Santana spoke from experience of being Quinn's best friend since high school then she added with a pause of reflection, "besides, you only get one shot at your first wedding."
"Exactly," the older girl moved past the awkward moment, "I told her she could pick any date that works for her as long as it was before the baby comes."
Santana refocused her eyes on Cate, pulling herself away from thoughts of her own wedding and back to the current conversation. "What date did she choose?"
"January 22nd…she wants it at night with all the white lights we can afford," Cate smiled as she thought of her soon-to-be-bride.
"It sounds like it will be beautiful, Cate," Santana assured, "You two deserve the happy ending."
"So the reason I wanted to talk to you alone is because I have a request…," Cate hesitated.
"Request? Ohhkay…what is it?"
"I want you to be my best man…person…uhh, best girl," Cate stumbled over her words, shaking her head, "You know what I mean…right?"
"Me? Your best man?" Santana couldn't hide her shock, "Why me?"
"Listen, I know you're Quinn's best friend and all, and she really wanted to ask you to be her matron of honor," Cate explained, "but I told her how important you are to me…and to us, being together…twice. It would just mean a lot to me, Santana."
Santana could see Cate's hands trembling as she spoke, so she reached across and placed a steadying hand on top. "Say no more. I'll be there."
"Seriously?" Cate beamed.
"Absolutely!" Santana declared, "I'd be honored to stand beside you."
Wednesday, November 9, 2022
6:42 PM
"MEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEME," Rachel Berry began her vocal warm up in her dressing room just as she did each night before curtain.
The brunette songstress stood as tall as her petite stature would allow, shoulders back, hands clasped in front of her, and she pushed from her diaphragm the way she learned to do long ago.
"WOOWOOWOOWOOWOOWOO," she continued up the standard scale then back down again. She paused a moment, inhaling and exhaling, expanding her vocal muscles.
Just as she started humming to stimulate her lips, there was a knock at her door, and Grayson Knox cracked it open and peeked inside.
Seeing his girlfriend still in her robe, he cleverly quipped, "Oh excuse me, Ms. Brice…I'd be happy to wait while you change."
Extremely pleased that Grayson could use a line from her show Funny Girl in casual conversation, she took a sip of her hot tea and waved him in, whispering, "Hi, honey."
He leaned to give her a quick kiss, "How are you feeling tonight?"
She gave him thumbs up, preserving her voice as much as possible before show time.
"There's a great audience tonight, sweetheart. I saw Aaron Tveit in the lobby and then Audra MacDonald's backstage talking with your director." He seemed as excited as any Broadway fan.
Rachel smiled broadly and poured more liquid into her vintage tea cup, a gift from her dads. It was identical to the one Barbra Streisand herself used backstage during the original run of Funny Girl. Drinking from it each night before her performance, Rachel felt like she was transported back in time, walking the same notorious steps of her idol.
"Ok, I know you need to dress now. I'll see you afterwards," he pulled a single white rose from inside his suit jacket and gave it to her, kissing her softly once again, "I love you."
"I love you too. Thank you for being here…again." Rachel treasured how much Grayson supported her. This had to be his thirtieth attendance since the show opened in July, but he never seemed bored with any of the cast's performances.
"My pleasure," Grayson winked as he opened her dressing room door to leave, turning back to add, "Break a leg, Ms. Brice."
As he closed the door behind him, he bumped into a small group of the chorus, including Brittany S. Pierce.
"Brittany, how are you?" Grayson asked, pleasantly surprised for an opportunity to see his former neighbor. Now that the blonde dancer was no longer living at the West Village apartment with Santana, it had been several weeks since they spoke.
"Hey, Gray…," Brittany said warmly, telling the rest of her group, "You guys go ahead."
Grayson gave her an embrace though he was careful to not smudge her stage make up, "You look great."
"Thanks, you too," she replied, thinking he looked particularly handsome in his suit, "You staying for tonight's show?"
"Yes, looking forward to it as always. I was just saying a quick hi to Rach."
The two tall blondes stood in an awkward silence until Grayson said, "Rachel's been wanting to have you over for dinner."
"She's mentioned it a few times," Brittany acknowledged, "It's my fault for never picking a date, sorry about that."
"No, it's cool. I know how busy the show keeps you all," he eased past her evasiveness.
"Ok, well…soon though," she affirmed, starting to walk past him, "Nice to see you."
"You too, Britt." He let her take a few steps then he decided to take a chance, "Hey, Britt…wait!"
"Yeah?" She turned back around.
"How about dinner next Monday?"
She reflected a moment. "Uh…next Monday? The 14th?"
Grayson nodded.
"Why next week?" the blonde dancer seemed suspicious of the timing.
Grayson hesitated initially then said with a grin, "Why not?"
"Does this have anything to do with Santana?"
"Why would it?"
"Because her birthday is next week," Brittany stated, crossing her arms, "And I wouldn't put it past Rachel to coordinate something with us both there."
"Don't blame Rachel, ok? This was my idea…she knows nothing of it," he confessed.
"Nice try, Grayson," Brittany seemed perturbed, pushing past him in the hallway.
"Brittany, stop!" He caught up to her and pulled on her elbow, "Wait a sec, please."
"I don't appreciate being ambushed," she told him with fire behind her bright blue eyes, "Besides I don't want to do that to Santana when she thinks she's there to celebrate her birthday."
"Ok, you're right…It was wrong of me to force the two of you together," he admitted, "I was only trying to help."
"I know," she validated his attempt.
"She misses you," he couldn't help himself.
Brittany looked down at her feet, feeling an instant tug at her heart. She softly confessed, "I miss her too."
"Will you at least consider being there? Eight o'clock at Rachel's," he told her, "It wouldn't be the same without you."
Brittany stared into Grayson green eyes. He was one of the most sincere people she'd ever met, and he had been a rock of support during some of her worst moments.
She finally relented, "I'll consider it."
He grinned ear to ear. "Awesome."
"No promises though," she warned with a small smile.
"I'll take it," he said as he started to walk off, adding, "Have a great show!"
Friday, November 11, 2022
4:08 PM
Santana dumped a load of clean laundry on her bed and picked up a fresh-smelling shirt. She gave it a firm shake to rid the red cotton of any wrinkles then folded it and turned to put it in the top drawer of a nearby chest. She did the same to a faded black t-shirt, two pajama sets, a pair of yoga pants, and five pairs of underwear.
When the drawer was full, she closed it then hung up a flowered skirt and pair of jeans in her closet. Before shutting the door, she paused and ran her fingers slowly across several of her wife's shirts.
Every time Santana did laundry, she looked over Brittany's belongings. She could remember vividly the last time she saw the beautiful blonde in each item of clothing. They were all happy memories…until they weren't anymore.
Everything about them pained her now. They still smelled like Brittany. They were Brittany's favorite colors, her favorite styles. Even Santana's own clothes were upsetting at times. She avoided wearing the outfits she knew her wife loved her in most. New clothes were her solace now, things that had no part of her past life with Brittany.
The Latina sighed and pulled on the curtain to close off the bedroom from the rest of the apartment. She busied herself with other chores, sweeping, washing the few dishes in the sink, collecting a couple of take-out containers and tying up the garbage bag.
Santana opened the front door of apartment 6C, leaving it cracked as she stepped down the staircase to the level below. She lifted the bag into the garbage shoot and slammed closed the metal door with a grimace. She loathed housework and manual labor, silently acknowledging all that Brittany did around their apartment when she lived there. If given the chance though, Santana promised herself she would help out more and lighten the load on Brittany.
As she reached the landing back on the sixth floor, she heard her cell phone ringing. She was expecting a call from her agent, Adrian Locke, on whether she was called back for a role in an off-Broadway show.
Santana quickened her steps and grabbed her phone off the coffee table, answering without even looking, "Hello?"
"Santana?"
The brunette inhaled deeply, trying to catch her breath to respond, "Speaking." She knew the female voice was not Adrian.
"Is everything ok?"
"Yes, why?"
"You're out of breath. I, uh…I just wondered," the person at the other end of the phone expressed concern, but there was distinct hesitation in her voice.
Santana finally caught her breath and made a surprised realization. "Brittany?"
"Yeah," Brittany confirmed.
Santana felt bewildered at the sound of her wife's voice after so many weeks. The sensation felt peculiar, but Brittany's voice was as identifiable as an old coat, warm and soothing, even though there was a distinct distance to it.
There was a longer pause than Santana realized until she heard Brittany say, "Maybe I shouldn't have called."
"No! I'm thrilled that you called," the Latina told her, "I was just thinking about you."
"You were?"
"I'm always thinking about you, but yeah…I was putting away laundry. There's still some of your clothes in the closet."
"Oh yeah…I guess I should come by and get the rest," Brittany said sadly.
That wasn't the response the brunette was hoping for from her estranged wife. "I guess so…only if you want them. I mean, I assume you want them…I just really was hoping…." Santana trailed off.
This wasn't exactly going smoothly.
Santana decided to go all in, "It's really good to hear your voice."
There was silence again. Finally, Brittany confirmed with true sincerity, "It's really good to hear yours too."
"How is everything going with you?"
"It's been good," Brittany replied, "I mainly just go to practice then do the show each night."
"They're still working you guys off stage?" Santana chuckled.
"Yeah, can you believe?" Brittany's demeanor relaxed, "They tweak something in the chorus most days."
"It's received great press. There's buzz all over town," the Latina told her, "I've been so proud of you."
"Thanks, Tan," Brittany's voice softened, "That means a lot."
Santana realized she was still standing in the center of the room. She moved to the sofa and sat down, crossing her legs under her.
"My birthday is next week." She wasn't sure why she said that.
"How could I forget," Brittany acknowledged, "I heard that Rachel is hosting a dinner party for you."
"Yeah, she called a few days ago to find out what I wanted on the menu," Santana laughed at how meticulous her sister was with her plans and lists. Everything in Rachel's world was organized and scheduled to the last tiny detail.
"She loves you, she just wants it to be perfect for you," Brittany reminded.
"It would be perfect if you were there," Santana revealed before she even thought about any consequence of her request.
There was another pause, and Santana immediately felt vulnerable. She could hear Brittany breathing.
"I shouldn't have said that," the Latina tried for a quick recovery, "I don't want to pressure you."
"No, it's fine. The party is actually why I called," Brittany replied.
"It is?"
"Well, mostly," Brittany confessed, "I've wanted to contact you recently. You've been on my mind…I even had a dream about us."
"A dream? Really?" Santana felt butterflies in her stomach, "A nice one, I hope."
"Very," the blonde divulged, a smile crossing her lips at the recollection, but she decided to change the subject, "Rachel told me you are doing better."
"I'm trying," the Latina answered resolutely, "I stopped drinking. Not one drop in weeks. I quit smoking too. And I'm auditioning. In fact, I'm waiting to hear about a call back this afternoon."
"That's great, honey," Brittany said positively.
Honey. The sentiment was so subtle, Santana could have easily missed it, but she heard it clearly…and it warmed her entire body. A huge grin crossed her face as she replied with a simple, "Thank you."
"I want to know if you get the call back, ok?"
She wants to talk to me again. Santana felt like the giddy teenager she once was when she and Brittany sat in the back row of Glee club, sneaking quick touches.
"Of course," she told her wife then she pushed further, "So…will I see you Monday night?"
Brittany full out laughed. The familiar rapport was back.
"Possibly," she teased her wife, stretching the response to, "Probably."
"I'll take 'probably'," Santana quipped good-naturedly.
"Ok hon, I need to get something to eat so I can head over to the theater," Brittany stated.
"I understand."
"Have a good evening," Brittany added.
"You too," Santana replied. She didn't want this connection to end, but she knew she needed to let Brittany take the lead. "Hey, Britt," Santana stopped her wife, "I'm so glad you called."
There was a short pause as if Brittany wanted to say more. Instead she simply said, "Me too…goodnight."
The call ended, leaving Santana in her empty apartment. It was starting to get dark inside now that the afternoon sun was going down, but Santana saw nothing but the bright light of hope surrounding her.
Author's Note:
If you came back to read this long-awaited update…THANK YOU! The long gap was unavoidable and unintended, but this story is not abandoned. As promised, I will see this to the end. There will be another update shortly.
Please leave me a review and tell me what you think. I hope the wait was worth it.
On a personal note, I want to give huge thanks to my girlfriend, Shay, for her endless support and encouragement. I love you very much, honey.