Please enjoy the rest of the story.

The cab ride to the airport was tense for both of them. Though Santana had sworn that she wouldn't judge Quinn for what she did with Rachel, the blonde could see that she was struggling to keep her mouth shut. They barely spoke, preferring to stare out of the window instead. Watching as block for block would pass by in a blur.

Quinn's stomach churned, feeling incredibly nervous about leaving the city that she had gotten to know so well. But it had started to feel less and less like a home to her. She couldn't call it home as long as she felt unhappy in it.

"We won't be the same anymore, will we?" she quietly asked, though it didn't sound like a question.

Santana turned her head to face Quinn, who was still looking outside the car window with a lost expression.

"I guess not," she muttered, her eyes dropping to stare at the space between them. What was an arm length now would become thousands of miles in a matter of hours. Of course they wouldn't stay the same anymore, their friendship had an expiration date now.

"Do you think she'll forgive me?" Quinn whispered, partly asking, partly wondering herself.

Her friend sighed. "She always does. You know that."

"Yeah, but," Quinn swallowed. "Maybe not this time."

Santana didn't answer, staring out of the window. She was biting the insides of her cheek, refraining herself from telling Quinn that Rachel would always forgive her. Just as she would always love her.

–

When Quinn went to check in and give up her luggage, Santana whipped out her phone and hit a number on speed dial.

"Santana?"

"Rachel!" Santana urgently said, grabbing her hair with her free hand because she was freaking out. "Where the fuck are you?"

"I'm in a cab," came the calm reply. Too calm for Santana's liking.

"Why aren't you at the airport?" Santana hissed, nervously turning to see if Quinn had already checked in, but the blonde was still standing in line.

"Why should I be?"

"Why should – fuck, Rachel, you're supposed to stop her!" Santana nearly shouted into her phone, glaring at people who would give her weird looks. "Get your ass over here right now!"

"She told me not to stop her, so I'm not going to stop her."

Santana couldn't believe the words she was hearing. Had Rachel already accepted everything and just given up? Did she really think that moving to L.A would solve all problems for Quinn? Did she really believe that it would be the best choice for their friend?

"What – why – no, you can't just fucking let her go -"

"Yes, I can," Rachel tiredly said. "She wants me to let her go, so I'm letting her go. And you should do the same."

"But -"

"No, Santana," came the firm voice out of her phone, "we think we know what she deserves, but truth is, it's not the same with what she wants and needs. And if she wants to start fresh in L.A, then let her be. It's her choice."

Santana's shoulders deflated and the anger on her expression faded into melancholy. "Why is it that you can take this better than I do? Because I don't – I can't..." And she looked up to see Quinn standing at the counter, showing her ticket and passport. There wasn't much time left.

"I had the whole night to think about it," Rachel explained, and Santana could finally hear the fatigue in her voice.

"Did you get any sleep?" she asked in sympathy.

"Not really," Rachel answered tiredly, "maybe dozed off a couple of times, but didn't really sleep."

"Me neither," Santana quietly confessed. When she looked up again, Quinn was heading toward her with a suspicious look. She probably could guess whom she was calling, but Santana still quickly muttered into her phone, "Quinn's coming, I'm hanging up. Bye."

"B-" but Rachel's reply was cut short when Santana ended the call.

"She's not coming, is she?" Quinn quietly asked once she stood in front of Santana, and she nodded to the phone in her hand.

Santana slowly shook her head, her eyes focused on her friend's expression to read her emotions. She needed to know if Quinn was disappointed or relieved that Rachel hadn't come running for her.

"Good," she breathed, facing away, but Santana had seen enough.

And it was anything but good.

–

"Take care, will you?"

Santana wasn't one for gentle or heartfelt exchanges, but this time, she could feel herself tearing up over her best friend's departure. "Come see me once in a while, alright?"

"Of course I will," Quinn said with a soft smile.

"No, you need to promise me," Santana said with more force, shaking her head. "I don't want you to avoid New York because of Rachel."

And the genuineness in Quinn's smile faded, leaving it bittersweet and forced. "New York is big. What are the chances of running into her while I'm visiting you?"

Santana kept shaking her head. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

Quinn shakily inhaled a deep breath. "I guess you know me too well."

"Damn right I do. You won't find someone like me in L.A."

"No, I won't," Quinn agreed. "And I don't want to find a replacement for you."

"You better hope so or I'm going to personally fly to L.A and whoop your ass."

And for the first time since Quinn had told her about her new job, they shared a genuine laugh.

They were going to be fine. Maybe not as close as before, but never strangers. They were the type of friends to reconnect within a day after not seeing each other for years.

"We may not be the same anymore," Quinn began and Santana finished for her. "But we're going to be fine."

–

Rachel glanced at her watch. By now, Quinn should be already on that plane to Los Angeles.

"Are you alright, Miss?" the cab driver suddenly asked, worriedly looking at her through the rear view mirror. "You're not sick, are you?"

Rachel forced out a laugh and shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern, but I just...miss someone."

The driver just nodded in relief, having been afraid of Rachel vomiting in his car. "Someone important?" he easily asked, glancing at the mirror again.

"Very," Rachel nodded, smiling at the thought of Quinn. But it turned sad when she remembered how far the blonde was willing to go to avoid her. "But I messed up."

"Ah, don't say that," her driver good-naturedly chuckled, drumming on his steering wheel with his fingers. "You can't mess up with people who matter to you, you know. Because if they're really important to you, you would naturally try everything to make up with them."

Rachel stared out of the window with a thoughtful expression, squinting when rays of the bright morning sun would blind her. "I guess you're right."

Her plane had arrived in L.A on time, the flight itself was one of the better experiences that Quinn had made concerning plane rides. It went without major turbulence, annoying passengers or crying children. Maybe it was a sign, a sign that moving to Los Angeles had been the right decision because everything was better at the West Coast. Including the plain rides.

Her new employer had already arranged an apartment for her. It had been one of the conditions in their contract or Quinn wouldn't have signed it without taking more time to consider. The real estate market in L.A was crazy and she didn't have the time or patience to find a place on such short notice. If E-Motion was so eager to hire her and get her away from New York, then offering a place to live seemed like a small price to pay.

She gave the cab driver the address of her new home, wondering how it would look like. For a few minutes, she was overcome with worry that it could probably turn out to be a shady place since the magazine she was going to work for didn't belong to one of the bigger players yet. But the further the cab drove into L.A, the less did she think about it, her uneasiness disappearing as she gazed outside with fascination in her eyes.

Palm trees lining up on both sides of the streets, people walking around in short summer clothes with shades on, some of them rollerblading, showing their trained calf muscles with every stroke.

Quinn was aware that what she was seeing was exactly what the media liked to portray of Los Angeles. They were driving through one of the finer parts of L.A and she prayed to God that her cab would stop soon and reveal her new home to be around here. A nice surrounding would sure help her move on faster.

And as if her prayers had been heard, the car pulled over in front of a modern and classy building whose entrance was flanked with tall palm trees. It had large balconies, perfect for relaxing in the sun.

Quinn quickly pushed open the car door and jumped out, looking up in wonder, her mouth turning up into a big smile. Living here was something she could definitely imagine now. She suppressed a happy squeal, jumping on the spot instead and she ran toward a palm tree to touch it. She didn't know why she had the urge to do it, but her excitement had overwhelmed her and when she felt the rough surface of the tree beneath her fingertips, she smiled.

Remembering that she had jumped out of her taxi without paying and taking her luggage, she turned back around with an apology to the cab driver on her lips. But the only word that fell over her trembling lips was a broken, "No."

The cab was gone.

But that was not what hit Quinn so hard.

Looking tired but content, Rachel Berry held her luggage and gave her a lopsided smile. Her entire appearance was ruffled. Her hair was tousled, her make-up faded and it seemed like she was wearing the same clothes she had worn yesterday. Her black tie was hanging loosely around her neck, the collar of her shirt unbuttoned and wide open above her chest, and the hem of her shirt hanging out instead of being neatly tucked into her pants. She wasn't wearing her blazer, and she had rolled up her sleeves up to her elbows.

Quinn bit on her bottom lip. It wasn't fair that Rachel managed to look so desirable even when she resembled a mess. Nothing was fair right now, she had left New York to get away from her and now Rachel was here as well? She wanted to scream or cry in desperation. Didn't Rachel understand that not everything was always about her?

"I told you not to -" she began, but Rachel cut her off, " - stop you. You told me not to stop you. And I didn't, I let you board that plane and fly to L.A." She worked her jaw and longingly looked at Quinn. "But you never told me not to follow you."

And Quinn could feel the bridge of her nose and her cheeks heating up, her throat constricting. She couldn't cry now, she didn't want to show how much she hated Rachel for what she was doing to her. She hated how stubborn the brunette was, hated how she always went after the things she wanted without watching where she was going. If Rachel believed she was right with something, then there was nothing that could destroy her belief. Including the belief that Quinn wanted her here.

But what Quinn hated the most was that she was completely incapable of hating Rachel Berry because of all the same reasons she wanted to hate her for.

"Rachel," Quinn weakly said, her previous excitement about her new apartment was gone. Now she just felt exhausted. "I'm not going back to New York with you."

"And I'm not asking you to," Rachel genuinely said, bending down to put Quinn's suitcase on the ground. When she stood straight again, she nervously wrung with her hands. "The only thing I'm asking for is one minute of your time. Please just give me one minute to explain myself."

Looking torn and reluctant about giving Rachel the chance to break her even more, Quinn crossed her arms defensively and stared at the ground, hoping to hide her wet eyes.

"I'm counting," she hoarsely said.

And Rachel wasted no time, pacing forward until she stood right in front of Quinn, hoping to see her face when she said what she wanted to say all along.

"Gabrielle broke up with me because I'd rather take a day off work to look after you when you're sick than do the same for her birthday," Rachel said, quiet and rushed. And it made Quinn look up with vulnerable eyes. "She broke up with me because when you were around, she felt like the third wheel in her own relationship. None of my past relationships worked because I looked at you the way I was supposed to look at them."

When Quinn wanted to protest, Rachel firmly shook her head and said, "I need every second of this minute. I need you to understand that this is not one-sided, that I've only been blind and stupid, that I've been taking things for granted. But not anymore."

She searched for Quinn's eyes, searched for her understanding, and when hesitating hazel eyes met hers, she smiled. "I appointed a new board of competent directors who will take over most of my work in New York. It will give me enough time for my new job, and that is building up a secondary headquarter of my company here in L.A."

But Quinn started shaking her head, her heart aching the more she heard, the more Rachel said. This was too much and too soon, how could Rachel just assume that Quinn wanted her here? She didn't ask for this, she didn't ask for Rachel to make these changes to her work life.

But then again, how could Rachel know how much she wanted this?

"I'll be working from nine to five now," Rachel said, relieved that Quinn wasn't trying to interrupt her though she kept shaking her head in doubt. "Because I don't want to miss out on you – in case you want to see me, of course. But if you do want to meet me for dinner some time, then I'll be ready and if you just want someone to talk to, you know I'm around and always available."

And she glanced at her watch. "And I've got seven seconds left to tell you one last thing," she lowly said, her look of longing was back. She reached for Quinn's hand, and when the blonde didn't retract, she gently took it and brought it up to her lips. She took a deep breath.

"Quinn, I love you."

And Quinn finally reacted.

She slapped Rachel with her free hand, hitting her so hard that her head snapped to the side.

"That's for everything you put me through!" she angrily yelled, pulling her other hand away from Rachel's grasp.

"Wha-" the brunette gasped in shock, grabbing her cheek but got struck again on the other side.

"And that's for making me want to leave you!" Quinn hissed, reaching out with her hands once more.

And before Rachel could duck away from what she assumed was another hit, both of Quinn's hands had grabbed her face and pulled her in for a kiss.

She was kissing Quinn. She was being kissed by Quinn.

And the pain in her swollen cheeks was forgotten as her knees suddenly felt incredibly weak. She stumbled into Quinn, their bodies pressing against each other, and hands were buried in hair or beneath shirts. Their lips moved against each other easily, fluently, passionately. As if they had done this many times before, as if they had always been lovers. And maybe they had been, but just without the physical aspect.

What Rachel hadn't felt with Gabrielle or with any of her previous partners before, she felt it in one kiss with Quinn. Maybe she had been stupid, maybe she had been afraid of looking further, but now it didn't matter anymore because she had the chance to start over now.

"And this," the blonde panted once they managed to part, whispering against her lips, "is for everything else."

–

Kitty was typing on her computer when the door to her office burst open, revealing a panting Santana, who wildly looked around. "Where's your boss?"

Unimpressed, the blonde secretary raised an eyebrow and dryly said, "How did you get past security?"

And just in that moment, two heavy security men ran into her office, shouting when they saw Santana. The brunette ran behind Kitty, hissing to her, "Tell them I'm Rachel's friend. They wouldn't let me in without an appointment."

"Well, they're right," Kitty said with no interest in Santana's situation, continuing to type on her report. "You should have made an appointment."

"Just fucking tell them who I am," Santana said in panic when the two security guards split and walked around the large desk, one coming from the left, one coming from the right. "Do I have to remind you of who got you that job?"

Deeply sighing, Kitty stopped working and looked up at the security guards, saying with a sweet smile. "It's okay, guys. I'll take it from here now."

"You sure, Miss?" one of them grunted, eying Santana suspiciously. He flexed his muscular arms. Santana swallowed.

"Absolutely," Kitty flashed them a charming smile. "She's harmless. But thank you, George. And you, too, John."

Though they didn't show how pleased they were, they proudly walked out of the office with a puffed out chest and squared shoulders.

"Men," Kitty shook with her head, now turning around in her seat to face Santana. "So what do you want?"

Santana stood up from her cowering position behind Kitty and walked around the desk, heading to the door that led to Rachel's office.

"She was supposed to be there," Santana mumbled, pulling at the door handle, but it was locked. She shook, but the door didn't move. "Berry!" and she pounded on the door. "Open the fuck up!"

Kitty shot up from her seat and said in irritation, "Stop it, that's mahogany!"

"Why the fuck would I care what kind of -"

"She's not here," the blonde said, annoyed at the other woman's behavior. "That's not her primary office anymore."

"What?" And Santana's fist hovered in mid air.

Rolling her eyes, Kitty sat down again and pulled out a nail file from one of the drawers of her desk.

"She didn't tell you, did she?" she pointed with the nail file at Santana before working on her fingers. "I'm not surprised. You would've probably spoiled everything."

Santana simply stared at Kitty. "Tell me what?"

"It's not my place to tell you," the blonde said distractedly, observing the nails of her left hand by stretching her fingers before her. "The only thing I'm telling you is that she asked me to book a hotel for her. For last night."

"Hotel for last night?" Santana repeated with no clue. "Why wouldn't she sleep in her own – oh. Oh! Fuck, is that hotel in L.A?"

Kitty shortly looked up from her nails, giving her a pitying glance. "That took you long enough."

"But – but I called her this morning, and she was sitting in a cab..." and Santana groaned in realization. "She was sitting in a cab in L.A."

The blonde secretary just hummed, placing the nail file back into its drawer and taking out nail polish. She decided blood orange would be the color for today. While carefully painting her nails, she mumbled to herself, "And I slept with that idiot."

Santana was lost in her own world, overwhelmed by the many thoughts in her head. She couldn't believe that Rachel had taken off to L.A even earlier than Quinn. But she had known that something had been off when Rachel had said she wouldn't stop Quinn flying to L.A. And now she knew why, because Rachel had been anticipating Quinn. After all, the blonde never told her not to follow her.

Santana let out a triumphant "Ha!" and leaned against the mahogany door with her shoulder, her body relaxing as she sighed in relief. She smiled proudly.

"That's my dwarf!"

–

Since Quinn's new apartment was completely empty, Rachel had suggested for them to stay in her hotel suite until the apartment was ready to be moved in. There had been no ulterior motives behind that offer, so when they arrived at the five star suite, Rachel was overwhelmed by a seductive looking Quinn who shoved her onto the king-sized bed. She didn't complain though, they were both adults and had no time to take things slow. Every minute and hour counted, and they had already wasted years.

No words were said, they only communicated physically because some things couldn't be expressed through words. Everything they ever wanted to share with each other, they did it now, with no hurry or thoughts about what would happen next. Their touches were careful, but firm. Experimental, but knowing. Though they had wasted no time in taking their relationship straight to the physical level, they took the time to become familiar with each others' body.

The large Rolex clock above them kept ticking away, the hour digit turning several times until they finally remained lying on their backs, completely drained, but satisfied and happy. Only the sound of their panting filled the suite, and Rachel's arm shook when she reached for a drink on the night stand. Her muscles were sore.

Quinn turned on her side to face Rachel, contently smiling as she trailed circles on Rachel's stomach with her index finger. "You sure have a lot of energy for someone who hasn't slept since yesterday."

Rachel smirked into her glass as she drank water in big gulps. Her dry throat had been protesting for two hours now, but every time she had tried to reach for that glass, Quinn would roll her over for a new round, effectively distracting her.

"It's you," Rachel simply said with a smile, her voice slightly hoarse, "I like how you keep me on my toes."

Quinn hummed with a smirk and her finger that used to draw circles on Rachel's stomach slowly trailed down south until she was stroking the insides of her thighs. Rachel closed her eyes in pleasure.

"Then you will certainly like what I'm going to do next," Quinn teasingly whispered into her ear, and she dove under the bed cover. And when Rachel felt soft hands gently pushing her thighs apart, she could only moan in agreement.

–

It wasn't until the early morning of the following day when they were too tired to lift a limb and fell asleep right after Rachel had rolled off Quinn's body and hugged her close to cuddle. They missed breakfast, lunch and a flustered room service who had walked into their suite without thinking too much since there had been no sign on the door handle that said to not disturb. She had assumed nobody had been there and she just wanted to do her job which included cleaning the rooms.

They woke up to growling stomachs. Rachel ordered dinner to their suite while Quinn showered. But since ordering dinner took much less time than showering, the brunette decided to join her new girlfriend in the shower, thus flustering the room service a second time as she cautiously entered the suite only to be confronted with loud sounds of heated sex.

Neither Rachel nor Quinn thought much about the poor room service once they saw their dinner ready, presented on a cart that carried wine and dessert as well. They ate up within minutes and ordered more, and this time, a different room service wheeled a cart loaded with food in. Her work colleague had begged her to take this one order for her, though she couldn't understand why. The brunette had tipped her with fifty dollars that she had randomly found in the back pocket of her pants.

So when their stomachs were full, both quietly sat outside on the balcony and enjoyed the view over Los Angeles while sipping on wine.

"I don't want this day to end," Quinn contently sighed. "It's perfect as it is now."

"But what if tomorrow will be even better than today?" Rachel quietly wondered, fondly looking at Quinn. She was so beautiful, she was glowing with happiness. Happiness that she had been denied for so long. And now all Rachel wanted to do was to make sure that she would never have a reason to be unhappy again.

"Then I'd gladly let you prove me wrong."

And Rachel did prove her wrong, every day. Because every day turned out to be perfect in its own way, even if it seemed like it was anything but. Even when Quinn was accidentally spilled with coffee, splashed with dirty water by a car driving through a puddle and stuck in an elevator for an hour in one day, Rachel still managed to make that day seem perfect because she would threaten to sue that guy who spilled coffee on Quinn, lay out warm and dry clothes for her to change into and be on the other side of the elevator to talk her through the waiting.

And Quinn did the same for Rachel. There were no bad days if she got to fall asleep with Quinn by her side, comfortingly cuddling her. Because when she was wrapped up in warm blankets and the soft body of her girlfriend, she forgot about the mistakes of some incompetent employees and irresponsible artists.

Her company was growing bigger with the second headquarter in L.A opening more doors, and though she should be technically busier than before, she worked a normal nine to five schedule. She had appointed several leaders within her company to her board, and they were splitting her work between each other. The only thing she had to do know was to either agree or disagree with the decisions of her board, supervise their work and occasionally represent her company on important events. Of course with Quinn as her plus one by her side.

L.A was good to them, it gave the couple the chance to explore the city together and discover themselves in a new light. Quinn's job was actually her dream job, she hadn't been lying when she had wanted to accept it. After a year of writing witty columns about everything that moved her, which was eagerly soaked up by her audience, she was promoted to be the editor of E-Motion.

This news was celebrated in New York with Santana, and on the next day, when Rachel and Quinn woke up hungover and confused with a Santana sleeping sandwiched between them, they knew it was just going to be a matter of time until she would follow them to L.A.

So Santana decided to switch coasts as well. Though she had her fair share of friends in New York, none of them were as close to her as Rachel and Quinn were, and frankly, she felt lonely without them. Even if it meant enduring their antics as lovers.

Finding a job was not one of her worries. During her first years in L.A, she worked as the head of the legal department in Rachel's company and through her work there at the music label, she met a singing and dancing girl group, including one Brittany Pierce who soon would turn out to be the only woman Santana ever actively chased and wooed. And the blonde agreed to a date which led to another and another. It wasn't long until they were girlfriends, then engaged. And when the wedding had a date set, Rachel and Quinn knew that it would be Santana's last and only wedding.

When Rachel nervously ran past her for the third time, Quinn grabbed her wrist and pulled her in for a kiss to distract her stressed wife. And it worked long enough for Rachel to relax into the kiss until she remembered what had her so busily pacing around in her villa.

"Quinn," she mumbled against soft lips, reluctantly pulling back. "I don't know what to wear for Santana's and Brittany's wedding."

Quinn hummed and leaned her forehead against Rachel's. "We'll find something", she reassuringly said, looping her arms around Rachel's waist to pull her in for another soft kiss.

The topic was off the table for the day, but resurfaced the next morning when Rachel stood half-naked in her walk-in closet, staring at all the clothes she possessed. There weren't many dresses appropriate for a wedding, and she was Santana's matron of honor.

"Rachel?"

Quinn rubbed her tired eyes as she yawningly walked to Rachel, following her line of sight. She was staring at some of Quinn's dresses.

"They don't fit you," the blonde said, shaking her head. "And I already know what you should wear."

"You do?" Rachel said in surprise, turning to her wife. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well," Quinn's eyes trailed down her lover's body, noticing her lack of clothes. She licked her lips. "You probably should put on some clothes first, I can't concentrate with you walking around like that."

Chuckling in amusement, Rachel left the closet and walked back into their bedroom. She had expected Quinn to follow her, but when a minute passed and her wife didn't reappear, she questioningly called out, "Quinn?"

And the blonde strutted back into the bedroom with a smile, one hand holding up clothes hanger on which hung a black suit, the other holding up a black tie.

Rachel stared at the items in her hands, then at her face. "Is that the one Santana made me buy all those years ago?"

Her wife just nodded, still smiling. "I know you have a lot of black blazers, but...they're not suits. And I missed seeing you in one."

Swallowing, Rachel glanced at the suit that would always be connected to the memory of almost losing Quinn. "Are you sure?"

And Quinn sighed, knowing what Rachel was hinting at. She carefully hung the suit over the rest of a chair, then placed the tie on top of it. Turning to the worriedly looking brunette, she softly said, "Yes, completely sure. I know what you're thinking, but I don't blame the suit or you for what happened. I blame myself for wanting to leave the only thing that's made me happy."

They looked down, holding each others' hands. Rachel was still frowning.

"Hey," Quinn whispered, "look at me."

Hesitantly looking up, Rachel's eyes searched for any sign of discomfort on her wife's face. She didn't want her to take blame for things that happened ages ago, and she didn't want to dwell on this topic either.

"I just don't want to remind you of that woman you thought I was when I put it on again," Rachel admitted. "Because I'm not that woman, I can't lie and I don't want to. And I don't want to impress anyone but you."

And Quinn's heart skipped a beat at the confession, her insides turning considerably warm. The corners of her lips curled into a touched smile, and she looked at Rachel with loving eyes.

"I know," she quietly said. "And I remember how much I liked you in that suit that I just wanted to get you out of it. And though it pains me to say this, without all that happened, we may still be in denial. You can look back and either remember the good or the bad, and I choose to focus on the good. So why don't you?"

And a bright smile lit up Rachel's expression as she laughed in relief. Feeling light and happy, she put a hand on the back of Quinn's head and pulled her in for a long kiss, letting her wife push her toward the direction of their bed.

"Besides," Quinn panted against Rachel's lips, "nothing is sexier than seeing a woman wearing a suit and tie."

Aaaand, cut. Thank you for following, favoriting and reviewing this story, it was a lot of fun writing it and a big pleasure to share it with you :)

One last Author's Note for those who care:

After reading all the reviews for the first chapter, I realized that some of you have taken sides and expressed sympathy for Rachel while less understanding for Quinn. When I wrote this, I didn't think about who would be rightfully hurt or unreasonably foolish. I just wrote what felt authentic, and making Quinn confess her love didn't feel right because she's always been more of a secretive character that worked in her own mysterious ways. Her unpredictable actions are what dominated in the show, and I included this in my story.

Because this one is based on the Faberry subtext that is season 3, where we think it's one-sided (Quinn asking Rachel if she only sang for Finn with this heartbreaking look) and then we find out it's not (Rachel putting her wedding on hold because Quinn wasn't there). That was just an example, but I hope you get what I mean. It's not about who deserves to be apologized to, but it's about making compromises because you genuinely love them and wouldn't want to let them go because of your pride.

Thank you for reading and let me know what you think.