AN:I got nothin'. Enjoy!

Chapter 7: Comes Around.

xox

She hadn't noticed the shadow, but the approaching footsteps were harder to miss. She jerked out of her stupor and swiveled her head towards the doorway. Sam!

Her heart plummeted when she saw who was standing in the doorway.

"Oh… Puck…" she said dully.

"There's a welcome for your fiancé," he said, striding towards her. He pulled her out of the chair and into his arms, covering her face in kisses, and then kissing her urgently, roughly.

She pulled away. "What's the matter with you?"

"Can't I kiss my future wife?" He leaned in again, but she put a hand against his chest.

She took a stab in the dark. "You ran into Sam, didn't you?"

The look on his face told the truth.

"On the staircase, right?" she pressed.

"What was he doing here?" he asked, abandoning all pretenses.

"I don't… even know," she said, turning away. "Forget about it."

"Mercedes—" he reached for her.

"No. Puck…" She pulled away and backed up, leaving a good three feet in between them. She needed a barrier, some form of protection from the reaction her words were going to induce.

His face hardened. "What happened between you two?"

"Nothing!"

"Why was he here?"

"He has just as much right to be here as you do."

"You slept with him, didn't you?"

"Honestly Puck, I don't know where this indignant lover role is coming from. Yes, I slept with him. I am in love with him."

"And he left you," Puck said.

"He left because Quinn showed up here and started yelling and said she didn't want to marry Sam anymore. And then he left too. And now you're yelling at me. Thank you for putting the cherry on my marvelous day."

Puck let out a breath. "So what does this mean? You don't want to marry me anymore?"

"This means I am really confused right now and this is probably not the best time to interrogate me." She stalked away from him and into the kitchen. She needed to clean something.

Puck wasn't going to give up. "You accepted my proposal and then promptly slept with another guy," he said, following her into the kitchen.

"That wasn't exactly what happened—"

"But it's a pretty concise description."

"Okay, Puck, you know what? This is pretty nice coming from the guy who cheated on me."

"What goes around comes around, is that it?"

"Why did you propose to me, anyway?" she threw back. "Why are you so interested again all of a sudden? Jealous of Sam? If you couldn't have me, no one else could? You're not the marrying type, Puck. You're more of a bounce from girl to girl type."

"Don't try and label me. Or my feelings. I do love you, Mercedes. I really do want to marry you."

She shook her head. "I don't know, Puck. Can you see us grocery shopping together? You carrying a diaper bag over your shoulder? Do you even want kids? I do. I want two or three. And we haven't discussed religion. Or politics. For all I know, you could be a communist."

"Cannibalist, actually."

"This is really not a good time to joke around."

"How can you say we don't know anything about each other after how long we dated?"

"Did we actually learn anything about each other in that time? Besides that you can make me orgasm six times in a row and that I can make you come in less than three minutes when I gave you head?" she spat.

She knew she was being harsh and petty. She didn't care.

Apparently Puck didn't either. "How about that I know you are a passionate, intelligent, and caring woman that I want to share the rest of my life with. We lived together, Mercedes. And we were pretty compatible too, despite the fact that I always left my things lying around for you to trip over and your cooking would give me indigestion. Does that mean anything to you?"

She turned away to stare out the window.

Does that mean anything to you?

Not the way Sam did. She couldn't sit on the couch and just talk to Puck for hours.

But she could with Sam.

She knew everything about Sam, from his favorite TV show to what he would be if he were reincarnated. She could even recite every birthmark on his body.

She had been infatuated with Puck.

But she was in love with Sam.

"I can't marry you, Puck."

"He won't come back. This is the second time he's left, you know."

She didn't have to ask who "he" was. "If he doesn't come back, that still wouldn't be fair to you. You'd have my body, but you wouldn't have my heart."

Mercedes was prepared for Puck to be angry. She was prepared for him to throw his usual insults, slam the door, and not speak to her for a few months.

She wasn't prepared for the calm sadness that fell over him. "So that's it then. You've fallen out of love with me."

"You broke my heart, Puck."

This sounds more and more like a soap opera. How typical of my life.

"Can't I try and mend it?"

"It's already been mended."

"By Sam," he said disbelievingly.

She nodded, her throat suddenly feeling uncomfortably tight.

Puck gave an infinitesimal smile. "Who would've guessed?"

"Not me. That's for sure."

Puck absently cracked his fingers one by one. An old habit of his, one that used to drive Mercedes crazy. It made her a little sad to think that she would never yell at him for that again.

Am I really doing the right thing? What if Sam doesn't come back? I could be alone for the rest of my life. Puck loves me, and I once loved him. I could be happy with him. He'd make a good dad. And if I threatened to divorce him if he ever cheated on me, he would probably stop.

As if he could read her thoughts, Puck said, "So what'll it be, Mercedes? Yes or no?"

Mercedes wet her lips nervously.

Yes or no? her mind chanted tauntingly. Yes or no? Yes-or-no-yes-or-no YES-NO-YES-NO?

"I don't…" she whispered.

"What?"

"I can't…" Her words were barely a breath of air.

Just say yes. Sam's not going to come back. Just say yes and get over him.

"I can't," she heard herself saying. "I'm sorry."

Puck stilled. He obviously was expecting another answer. "Fine," he said, his hazel eyes darker than she'd ever seen them. Angry, disappointed, hurt, betrayed. "Your loss."

He stalked out of her apartment without even closing the door. She waiting until his footsteps had faded completely before collapsing onto the floor.

So that's it, then.

She didn't stay on the floor for as long as she would have expected. Maybe she was getting used to this whole heartbreak deal.

She got up and went to shut the door. With its usual squeak, it fell into place and blew a small white piece of paper at her bare feet.

What is this?

It was small, and looked as if it had been torn off of something bigger—a receipt, maybe, or a shopping list.

Stooping down to pick it up, the messy all-caps handwriting instantly registered and sent the neurons in her brain firing so fast she was sure there would be a tiny explosion up there.

The bastard left me a note. "Sam…"

- Wait for me.

AN: Short chapter! O: I added a poll on my profile ( I don't even know if I did it right..) but yeah vote vote. o: On to the next chapter. Review time!