Puck stands in the kitchen, his mouth flapping open because he just cannot believe what the fuck has just happened. Of all the things he'd expected Berry to say, that had been the absolute last fucking thing ever.

Mike and Matt are glaring at him though and Puck can't exactly blame them for being so pissed. They'd told him to back the hell off but Puck had kept pushing her, knowing that sooner or later Berry would snap and just tell him already.

Recalling the conversation he'd had with Quinn, maybe this was what she'd been hinting at.

'Fabray, what the hell?' Puck storms into the house when Quinn opens the door. Finn's over at the NYU coaching his Varsity team and Quinn's by herself sketching out some ideas for Kurt and Mercedes.

'Hello Puck. It's nice to see you too,' Quinn says dryly, softly closing the door behind him.

'Rachel Berry is now my fucking colleague over at the studio. And this is after I find out she's the chick you set me up with. Oh, and did I mention that she's staying with the Dynamic Duo? Huh? Huh?'

'Well, I see that you're taking this rather well.'

'This isn't the time to be cute Fabray,' Puck throws his hands up in the air, thinking that he probably looks like Berry did when she was having one of her diva fits during glee. 'I want to know why the hell everyone's been on Berry's Christmas list but me.'

'You're Jewish,' she points out and Puck scowls, flopping down onto the couch and running a hand down his face.

'It's just…why the hell has Rachel kept in touch with everyone but me?' It comes out kind of whiny, Puck thinks, and Quinn raises an eyebrow. She folds her arms across her chest and looks down her nose at him, as if wondering whether he deserves to know the truth or not.

'Look, contrary to what you might think, this isn't some big conspiracy against you,' Quinn finally tells him, places herself primly next to him on the sofa. 'She ran into Kurt one day at his store and it all just kind of…happened. I didn't think you'd particularly care, considering that you don't even ask about her at all.'

This kind of pisses Puck off. 'Just because I don't ask about Berry doesn't mean I don't care what she's doing with her life.'

'You barely tolerated her during high school.'

'So did you.'

Quinn gives him a smile. 'After you and Finn graduated, everything was different. She was still Rachel but she kept saying how if I ever needed anything, she was there. And then the next thing I know she was a friend.'

'Yeah. She's kind of like a gnat.'

Quinn glares at him, presses her lips together.

'What?' Puck asks weakly. Quinn shakes her head before biting her lip.

'Well can you at least tell me what Chang meant about her having a tough year?'

Quinn looks like she already knows the answer to this before she speaks. 'That's Rachel's decision. Not mine.'

'No conspiracy my fine ass,' Puck mutters under his breath.

'Seriously Puckerman, don't even think about hounding her about it. Let Rachel tell you in her own time.'

'Whatever.'

'Man, seriously?' Matt's talking and Puck shakes his head, seeing the disapproving look plastered all over Rutherford's face.

'I didn't know okay?' Puck tries to defend himself but even he knows how weak that sounds in the face of what Rachel's just told him.

'I warned you, politely, about how you needed to get your head out of your ass and let this weird fixation thing go,' Mike scowls at him and Puck clenches his fist.

'Look, I'll just go apologize to her,' Puck tells them both, already stepping towards the narrow hallway where the guest room is. He should have expected the two bodies already placed in his way.

'Not now,' Matt says softly and even goes so far as to place a hand on Puck's shoulder, like he needs to physically hold Puck in place. Puck feels his brow furrow, fixes his gaze towards the dimly lit hallway, wondering if Rachel's in her room crying her eyes out right now.

His chest feels tight and his stomach twists, and not in a good way.

Finally he sighs, tired and repentant, and shrugs Matt's hold off him.

'When did it happen?' Puck asks and continues when he sees Mike and Matt share a look. 'Look, she's already told me. So just…how long?'

'A year,' Mike admits reluctantly after a few beats. Puck turns that number over in his head. One year. Three hundred and sixty five days. Eight thousand seven hundred and sixty hours. God knew how many minutes.

'A year,' he repeats to himself, not knowing how to take this new piece of information.

'Yeah,' Matt breathes out, as if remembering how Rachel was like when she had called them asking for a place to stay. There was a thread of desperation woven together with a keen note of melancholy and Matt had wanted to reach over the phone and give her a hug or something, because Rachel wasn't ever supposed to sound so small.

'Shit,' Puck curses.

'I agree. You are a jackass,' Mike comments.

'Shut up Chang,' the retort is half-hearted and Puck chances one final look towards Rachel's room before grabbing his jacket. His fingers clutch the material as he speaks.

'Tell Berry I'm sorry okay?'

'You can tell her that yourself,' Matt's tone is stern and Puck glances up, meets his eye.

'Yeah, I will,' Puck answers and Mike nods in some twisted kind of approval. The oven beeps and all three men hold their breath, as if expecting Rachel to come barreling through and clucking her tongue over the lasagna.

'Enjoy ladies,' Puck tells them as he pulls on his suit jacket.

'You sure you don't want any?' Matt asks. Puck shakes his head, not feeling at all hungry anymore. He does snag a beer on his way out though, raising a hand in goodbye as he sees himself out of the apartment.

Puck's on the sidewalk beside his car when he allows himself to look up to where he knows Berry's window is. The light isn't on and this makes him feel worse, the grip on the can of beer tightening so much that he leaves a small dent behind.

He starts the car and wonders what kind of man managed to leave that kind of mark over Rachel Berry.