Author's note: Thank you to everyone who is supporting this fic and giving reviews, I appreciate it a lot! I've received some questions about why Santana actually went through with this wedding, and that is going to be explained, so please be patient. Anyway, continue being great and reviewing. I love y'all. xoxo

Chapter Three

Santana's hand burst up in flames with sudden, shooting pain going from her knuckles all the way to her upper arm. Closing her eyes tighter, she cursed, retracting her hand and giving it a small shake, which wasn't a good idea. "Mother of God." She swore again, taking some steps away from Brittany's direction and proceeding to curse her pain away under her breath. Today, for Santana, consisted of terrible choices.

She realised there were currently three pairs of eyes set on her, all desperate for some sort of answer in their own way. She could see the betrayal of not telling him anything, in Puck's eyes. She could feel the pain of her actions in Brittany's icy blues. She could understand the curiosity and shock of the woman whom Puck had dragged into the room for what she could only assume would end in a quickie. Santana shamefully realised she was judging Puck for what he was probably about to do at her wedding, before wishing her own disappearance into the ground at the thought of what would have happened between her and Brittany if he hadn't walked in.

Puck's date awkwardly cleared her throat as she clutched onto his arm, shuffling her feet. What was there to say, when you went to a wedding and not only you caught the bride kissing someone else in a hidden chamber, but caught her kissing a woman. Santana couldn't recognise her, which meant she was invited as part of Sam's guests. Closing her eyes again, the Latina breathed deeply and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Listen, Puck…" she started, not really sure where she was going with this. She didn't owe him an explanation; yes he was her best friend and she was known for telling him everything, but some things she just didn't want to share. This being one of them. "You didn't see anything." She gave him a stern look, with a tone of finality in her voice. Taking a turn to look at Brittany, she sighed, her tone much softer than towards Puck, when she said "Brittany, I think you should go." Careful to not let her voice crack when she saw the look of hurt on her face, Santana pulled up her dress to her ankles and started making her way out of the room. "And you, mind your business." Her voice once again harsh, as she spoke to the petite brunette still gripping Puck's arm.

Without another word, the Latina left the room, shutting the door firmly behind her. She had a disaster wedding to get back to.

Walking back into the wedding hall, she was glad to see no one seemed to particularly notice her absence. If anyone asked, she'd just say she had to go to the bathroom. Refusing to look back to see if either Puck or Brittany had done as she asked, she chose to join in with the conga line currently dancing through the hall.

She danced and laughed, and pretended to enjoy herself for the rest of the night, which went by much quicker once she accepted there was nothing she could do to make herself disappear. She hadn't seen Brittany nor Puck for the rest of the night, and assumed the both of them hadn't felt like sticking around, which she understood. She hadn't been the best friend, but she had enough on her plate right now, without them getting on her case, too. She was good at pretending she didn't care about anyone but herself, and right now was her best performance yet.

The night was closing in and the guests slowly started dispersing, leaving the newlyweds partially dancing partially saying their goodbyes, and their families gathering up to leave. "You kids have fun, don't stay here too late; tomorrow is a big day!" Sam's parents chimed, referring to the honeymoon, giving their boy a tight hug and Santana cheek kisses. The Latina's parents followed suit, and soon enough, the bride and groom were left alone for the first time since they tied the knot.

"Hey…" Sam gave her a faux shy smile, taking small, innocent looking steps in her direction, but she wasn't buying it. Sam was a wonderful guy, there was no denying it, but there was nothing innocent about the boy. The good thing about him, was that he understood the word no, unlike many men Santana had dealt with time and time before.

Wrapping his arms carefully around her waist, like he was afraid to spook her, the blond pulled her closer, giving her a soft peck which quickly trailed down her jaw and neck in a series of sloppy kisses. Rolling her eyes at the attempt, Santana placed her hands on the man's biceps, squeezing tightly. "We should get going, early morning tomorrow." She insisted, earning a slightly irritated sigh from her husband.

"Come on, Santana. I'm your husband now." He stated, pushing against Santana's objection. She raised her eyebrow. This wasn't like him.

Shaking her head slightly, the Latina grabbed his arms with enough force to let him know he shouldn't mess with her, and brought them to his sides. "I said no, Sam."

Sam's jaw clenched, and from the corner of her eyes, she could see his hands turning into fists. Santana knew she was testing him and this relationship most of the time, especially since her participation in anything to do with Sam is usually minimal. Despite that, she'd never seen the blond loose his patience with her.

Knowing she was pushing it, Santana simply turned on her heel, grabbed her jacket from one of the nearby chairs and proceeded out of the building. They could deal with this at home.

Making her way to the car, the Latina paused only slight at the steps where not long ago Brittany had covered her with her jacket, her innocence and caring surprising to Santana, though it seemed to fit her perfectly. Brittany seemed more herself this time they met, than before. Sure, Santana thought that at the time, the stripper seemed in her element, but now realised that she had to change everything about herself in order to become Chastity.

Minutes passed as Santana sat in the car, waiting for Sam. She hadn't noticed how long it had been, lost in her thoughts, but as she looked over at the radio clock and realised Sam hadn't joined her in over half an hour, she frowned. Dialling his number, she got no answer. She didn't want to leave the car in the slightest, but knew she had to go check on him.

Bracing herself for the cold, the Latina jogged back into the building, just at the same time her husband was leaving. They were both in a hurry, and by the time they saw each other, it was too late to slow down. Bumping into each other, groaning at the same time. Santana rubbed the top of her head, having bumped it into Sam's chin, and it turn, the man rubbed his jaw.

"Careful, Tana." He beamed, and again, Santana frowned. He was back to his cheerful self, as if before hadn't happened. Scanning him, she noticed a small orange bottle clutched tightly in his hand. She decided not to approach it directly.

"What took you so long?" she asked, careful with sounding casual. She didn't want to push any buttons. Sam hadn't seemed to notice, giving her a soft shrug for an answer and starting to head to their car.

"Just had to find something." He answered over his shoulder as she watched him put his pill bottle into the inside pocket of his tux jacket. What the… The Latina shook her head in confusion, following the man without another word. He was obviously hiding something, and asking him wasn't the right way of finding out what it was. She could wait.

The ride home was quick and quiet, with the only sound coming in the form of a soft hum from the radio.

It wasn't exactly what you'd expect from a freshly wed couple, but their circumstances were strange, especially for this day and age. The amount of people who gave her the raised eyebrow and showered her with questions when they heard she had an arranged marriage was hard to keep track of. She couldn't ever tell the truth. She could never admit to what she had done, to why her father could make her do anything he could think of.

This marriage arrangement was perfect for him. It was between their family and that of the owner of the company that he worked for. Combining forces, Santana's father was convinced he could somehow end up taking over the company completely. And he needed Santana for it.

She couldn't ever say no. There was no point, he would win. He always won.

"A deal is a deal, Mija. You'll learn to love him, I promise." Santana's father spoke softly, rubbing her arm. Shaking her head and taking a step back, the Latina looked him straight in the eyes, hers filled with darkness.

"How could you do this to me? I'm not going through with this, you can't make me." She bellowed, ready to storm out of the room when she felt a tight grip on her upper arm, pulling her back.

His eyes were small pits of anger, and Santana cowered slightly at the sight of them. "You'll do what I say, Santana. Or have you forgotten about what you've done?! Do you need reminding?!" he thundered, his grip on her arm becoming increasingly forceful. "You killed her, Santana. She's dead, because of you!"

Santana's eyes burned, but she refused to cry. Ripped her arm out of his grip, the Latina stormed out of the house, jumping into her car and speeding away towards the only place she knew would help. Not long after, she was parked outside her best friend's house, too weak to leave the car and actually walk up into his house. Reaching for her phone, she simply dialled his number and gave him a missed call. Not a minute later, she saw his head popping out of his bedroom window, a frown on his face.

"What the hell, San?" his voice full of worry as he sat down in the passenger seat.

The Latina didn't waste any time in pouring her heart out to the mohawked man, giving up trying not to cry around two minutes in. Knowing that telling her that everything was going to be okay wouldn't help, Puck wrapped his arms tightly around the tiny Latina girl, pulling her close. He rubbed her back and whispered sweet nothings into her ear until she stopped crying.

"It's going to be okay, San. I've got you." He murmured, kissing her cheek and pulling her in as she laid her head on his shoulder, drying her eyes.

They stayed like that for a while, not saying anything. Sighing softly, the Latina laid her palm on her best friend's chest, lifting herself off. "Thank you, for everything." She mumbled, offering a faint smile. "You're the best." She whispered, and without thinking, she leaned in, pressing their lips together in a kiss that surprised them both.

Pulling away a few seconds after, she looked at him with shock glinting in her eyes as Puck brushed his bottom lip with his thumb in surprise. He gave her a puzzled look, not knowing what to say. He'd dreamt of this moment, but knew it would never happen, because Santana was gay. Right?

"I'm sorry." Her voice trembled, backing herself as far away from him as possible without leaving the car. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't' have done that." She shook her head, hiding her face in her palms. She was so stupid. Puckerman was the only stable person in her life, and she was ruining it. She didn't mean to kiss him. She didn't want to. She knew that he'd always had a crush on her but never made a move, out of respect for their friendship and her life choices.

"It's okay, I understand. You're just upset." He shrugged, straightening up. "But I should go. You're gonna be okay, San. I believe in you." He gave her a slightly sad smile, leaned in to kiss her cheek, and left.

Santana sat there for a few more minutes, before driving again once again, this time not so sure where she was heading.

The Latina had been so lost in thought, she hadn't even realised they were already back at their apartment. Sam was by her side, opening her door and holding out his hand for her to take. "M'lady." He mumbled with a charming smile as she left the car and they headed for the house.

Sam didn't try again that night. Once they got inside, he packed for their honeymoon, undressed and went to bed with only a quick peck to Santana's temple before leaving her. Soon after, once she had packed herself, the brunette got into bed, and fell asleep to the thoughts of a certain tall blonde and the few weeks she'd be spending away from her taking over her mind.

It had been two weeks since the wedding incident. Brittany was still kicking herself about that, how could she have been so stupid? She didn't know this woman. She had met her once and decided to gate crash her wedding? So stupid. She physically kicked herself in the shin, wincing only slightly.

Getting ready for work had been taking her longer than usual, her mind preoccupied more than always. She had been infatuated with her clients before, but never like this. She wasn't even supposed to be doing the things she had done with Santana, but she couldn't help herself. She wasn't supposed to be thinking about someone she didn't even know two weeks after seeing them, either, but here she was, sitting in her dressing room and trying to pick out an outfit for the stage tonight for the past half an hour.

Sugar Motta entered the room, with only a slight knock announcing her entrance. "Britt are you ready? You're on in ten." She frowned softly when she saw the blonde sitting on her stool with only her lingerie on. Sighing, she walked over to her clothing rack and picked out an outfit that she knew Brittany loved. "Let me help you out." She mumbled, walking over to the taller girl, grabbing her hand and pulling her up.

Brittany had been keeping a secret, something that had been eating at her for the past two weeks. She couldn't tell anyone, that was never an option. She always wanted to, but it was against the rules, and she knew it. It was all she thought about, and people seemed to notice. She was no longer the go-to girl at Strike Two. People didn't stare at her in a way that burned holes in her skin.

At this point, she didn't know if she was feeling this way because she became a worse version of herself because of everything that happened, or because she didn't feel like any touch, or any look compared to the one Santana had given her weeks before.

"I slept with one of my clients." The blonde suddenly burst out, earning a shocked look and a soft gasp from Sugar.

Sugar's brows furrowed, and she sat down with her arms dramatically clutching her chest. "Brittany, how could you?! Do you know how much trouble you could get into for this? It's like, totally against the rules."

The blonde had to stop herself from rolling her eyes and opted for doing it inside her head instead. Out of all the people she could have told this to, she knew Sugar wasn't the right one, but it just came out. She felt vulnerable and alone and she had been keeping this in for so long, she couldn't stand it anymore.

"You make my head hurt." The blonde mumbled, taking her eyes away from the smaller girl and rubbing her temples.

If she wanted someone making her feel bad about her choices, she'd just stick to listening to the voice inside her head.

She knew she wasn't supposed to have done what she did, but as soon as she saw the Latina standing there, watching her from afar, she couldn't help herself. She had noticed her staring even when she was still performing on stage and it made her want to dance just that much better, just so Santana would keep looking at her in the same way.

The Latina made her palms sweaty, and she never got that with her clients. She was always calm and composed and she knew what she was doing. She was always in control. Until her.

Santana didn't seem like the type of girl who needed to make trips to a strip club to get some action, and the fact that she didn't protest when Brittany did more than kiss or tease her, only confirmed her assumptions of that being the first time the Latina stepped into a strip joint.

"…tell John!" Brittany's head shot up and she looked at Sugar, confused. Blinking a few times, she continued staring at her in hopes everything the smaller girl had obviously been yelling at her would become clear. No such luck.

"I can't tell anyone, Sugar. And neither can you, okay? I can't lose this job, Lord Tubbington needs a new bed." She exclaimed, as if that was the most logical answer in the world.

Sugar just shook her head and started rambling more about how inappropriate this was on Brittany's part and how she should tell someone but she won't, at least not yet, because she's such a good friend and she knows that Brittany is a good person, blah blah blah. "Thanks, Sugar," was all she managed to say without wanting to punch the smaller girl in the face, and then she proceeded to laugh in her head about the fact that with a name like Sugar, you didn't really need a stripper stage name.

Brittany finished getting herself ready, her clothes and make up intact and walked out into the main room of the building, causing a bit of an uproar. It wasn't anything that she took notice of anymore, this was an everyday reaction for her.

She danced and swayed and teased all night. Girls came and asked for her for any money they could spare and her boss was happy to accept any money that desperate women threw at her for a lap dance. Brittany tried not thinking about Santana all night, but the harder she tried, the more she thought of her.

In every brunette, she saw her. In ever tiny frame, she saw her. Whenever she saw a sliver of caramel coloured skin, Santana filled her mind. She couldn't escape.

The end of the day couldn't come quick enough and when it finally did, Brittany didn't even bother changing out of her work clothes. She threw a jacket onto her shoulders and practically ran out of the place, not looking back. Hopping onto her bike, the blonde rode to her home which thankfully was only ten minutes away.

She needed some peace and quiet accompanied by some beer and a bubble bath.

Entering her house, she headed straight for the fridge, pulling out a beer and immediately took a sip, letting out a content sigh. Spending a few seconds petting Lord Tubbington, she poured some cat food into one of his bowls and watched as she practically swallowed it whole. Walking to the bathroom, she started her bath, making sure to put enough of the bubble maker so that she couldn't see the water. Carefully dipping her toes into the hot water, she stepped in and closed her eyes, smiling to herself. This was exactly what she needed tonight.

Cupping some bubbles into the palm of her hand, Brittany blew, scattering singular bubbles around the room. She grinned to herself. Thinking for a moment, the blonde reached for her phone and dialled a number, putting the phone on loudspeaker and placing it on the edge of her bathtub.

After a few rings, a female voice on the other side of the line, answered. "Hello?"

"Hey mum, it's Britt." She answered, her voice ringing happily across the room.

She could hear the smile in her mother's voice. "Hi baby, it's been so long! How are you, how is life? Tell me everything."

"There's a girl, mum," she mumbled, not being able to hold it in. "And it's really hard, because I can't like her. She's the worst person ever I could like, and I like her, so much. I don't even know her mum, but I can't stop thinking about her. She's so pretty and cute mum and she's with someone who she shouldn't be with, because she should be with me. I could treat her so well, you know?" she realised she was rambling, but she just had to get this off her chest. She hadn't been able to talk about this with anyone else. "I just want to brush hair out of her face and make her dinner and make her happy." She pouted to no one in particular, looking at her receiver and waiting for her mother's answer.

There was a soft sigh at the other end of the line. "Oh baby…" she paused for a moment, surely thinking of what to say. Brittany never called her about these kind of problems before, mainly because she never really had problems with girls.

"If it's meant to happen, it'll happen. You know I believe in destiny, and everything always happening for a reason. If she's with someone else right now, maybe there's a reason for it. Maybe she's happy, or maybe she needs this relationship to realise something or someone better is waiting just around the corner, Britt. You can't push these things, especially in situations like this." She sighed again. "It'll work out in the end baby, I promise." She whispered into the receiver and Brittany nodded, knowing her mother was right.

"It just sucks, Mum." She mumbled back, closing her eyes. Not wanting to trouble her mother longer than she had to, she made an excuse about having to make Tubbs second dinner, and hang up. The dancer stayed in her bath for a couple more minutes, before stepping out and drying off.

It's not like Santana had made any attempts at contacting her or trying to apologise about the way she had treated her when they last saw each other. She wasn't thinking about her, so why should she keep thinking about the Latina? She exhaled, knowing that even when she tried to make herself believe that Santana wasn't worth it, it wouldn't work.

Throwing on a pair of shorts and a tank top, Brittany squeezed another packet of food out for Lord Tubbs, and grabbed a tub of ice cream for herself. Snuggling up with a blanket in front of her TV, she picked out the cheesiest romantic comedy she could find and stayed there for the rest of the night, drowning her sorrows in dairy and mindless television.