READ THIS! So much has happened to my over the past week. All good things :D Alright, those of you who may have me on PSN have noticed I've been playing Final Fantasy XIII-2 all week, that's because it came out Tuesday, and I picked it up Monday at midnight. So my time has been occupied with that. I'm a gamer at heart, I can't help it.
Ok, event number two: Thursday, I find out that one of my supervisors... "left." Which invoked a chain of events. Our former front end supervisor is moving to the area supervisor spot, and... I'm moving to the front end supervisor spot :D Once all of that goes into effect, I'll have a different working schedule. Which should, in a way, give me more of a chance to write... I'm hoping.
Event number three: Friday, my federal taxes were in my bank account. Yesterday, I spent most of my day looking and comparing airfare prices for my trip in May. Then, last night I went to a coworker's slumber party. If you don't know what a slumber party is, look it up ;) it was SO much fun.
Okay, on to the bad news. Because of said things happening all week, I'm officially behind. Chapter 22 is NOT complete yet. Which means, that I'm shifting my posting schedule. From now until completion, chapters will be posted as they're finished, instead of on Sundays only. That also means, there may be more than a week between chapters. I really apologize, but with the video game... I needed "me" time. Then everything else sort of fell into place with work and my taxes, and more planning on my trip. So I hardly even turned my computer on this past week.
Thanks to Jennception for looking this over for me last night/this morning.
The First 24
Chapter 21
February 21 – 8:00AM
"It's nice to see you again Rachel." The younger woman extended her hand to the brunette before throwing her a warm smile.
"You too Emily." Rachel placed her hand back into Quinn's before following the therapist down the hallway before entering the office. It was the first time Rachel had been inside of Emily's office. She took a moment to simply look around the room after taking a seat on the sofa beside Quinn. One of the walls held a floor to ceiling bookcase that was full of different psychology books. The wall opposite of the shelving unit had scattered pictures as well as several framed degrees. Rachel was sure that it just as welcoming to other patients as it was for her and Quinn.
"So, how's everything been since we last talked?" Emily directed her question more toward Quinn than Rachel. She already knew that her patient's wife was sitting in, in order to learn more about what was going on with Quinn
Quinn bit her lip. She was still a little uneasy about Rachel actually sitting in on one of her sessions. It had sounded so much better when her and Emily had discussed it. "Before I answer anything…" she turned to look at Rachel, "everything I say… needs to stay in here Rachel." She watched the brunette nod before she let out a shaky breath. Quinn closed her eyes for a moment to regain her composure. Suddenly, she wondered why she agreed to have Rachel sit in. "Things have been okay." Quinn spoke softly. Part of her expected Rachel to jump in and correct her. When nothing came out, she was thankful.
"So what have you done since your last visit?" Emily dared to glace at Rachel. The brunette was watching her wife intently. She could tell that Rachel wanted to say something but wasn't. Emily could also tell that Quinn was holding back because of said brunette being there.
The blonde's eyes scanned the floor for a moment before locking onto a loose fiber in the carpet. "We had dinner with Mike, Tina, and their kids."
"How did that go?" She made some notes on her paper – mostly about Quinn's uncomfortable behavior.
"Honestly?" She never looked up at Emily for confirmation before continuing. "Everything was great. Tina's an amazing cook and Mike's nothing but a gentlemen. Their kids were kind of quiet but they told us they're just shy around new people… then I had to go and get sick… I'm glad Rachel followed me into the bathroom, but in a way… I didn't want her to." Quinn figured that the only way she'd be able to share everything was to pretend Rachel wasn't there. If she didn't look at her, she could easily convince herself it was just her and Emily. "I didn't want her to see me like that – at my weakest."
Rachel started to reach out to touch the broken woman but quickly stopped herself when Quinn shook her head. This was the first time she'd be hearing the blonde open up and she wasn't about to just throw it away because of a compulsive need to touch Quinn.
"Why didn't you want Rachel to see you sick?"
"It wasn't just then. It's every time I get sick when she's around. It's just a horrible reminder of what happened to me. I don't want her to have to deal with something she can't control." Quinn finally glanced at Rachel. She offered her a small attempt at a smile before looking back down at the carpet again. "After I got sick at Mike and Tina's… Rachel tried to cover it up by telling them that I had been fighting a stomach bug." She smiled some at how sweet she thought it was of Rachel to try to hide it on her behalf. "But I corrected her. I told them because I knew I could trust them. They were our friends in high school, and a chance encounter brought us back together again."
Emily smiled at Quinn's wording, the blonde in front of her was still healing. She'd also come quite a long way from that woman in the hospital bed refusing to even look at her. "How did they react?"
"Tine just hugged me. I'm sure Mike would have too, but he knows and understands my fear around men. I never actually told him, but he's figured it out with the time we've spent together on the movie set… He looked like he wanted to kill someone." She chuckled at the thought. In reality, Mike would never hurt a fly. "I got my court summons for the trial…"
That caught Emily's attention. Granted she'd heard about it on the news, but since she actually knew Quinn, she'd be able to learn more details. "When's the trial start?"
"March 17th. We already have our tickets booked to fly out to New York. We have to fly separately. Rachel still has filming for a day or so before she can come out with me. Then… once it's over were driving back with Brittany and Santana. I'm… in a way… looking forward to going. Just to see B and S again. Plus to see Jeff and Eileen along with their kids. I miss them."
Silence fell in the room again. Emily decided not to push about the trial. Over the past few weeks, she'd helped Quinn accept everything that had happened. "Alright Quinn…" she waited until the blonde looked up at her before continuing, "tell me about how things have been with Rachel."
Quinn froze. She'd been waiting for it to come up, but that didn't help her be prepared for it though. "I'm not sure what you mean." Absentmindedly, Quinn's fingers began to swirl her bracelet around her wrist. It had become a new habit of hers whenever she was nervous.
"Intimacy."
"Blunt aren't we?" She half-heartedly joked with the younger woman. Emily just smiled and nodded. "Still struggling. I know I want her. God do I want her… But… if she does anything more than run her fingers through my hair or down my back, I panic. I start to remember every time he touched me where she was. I've tried to push it away but I can't." She felt tears slide down her cheeks. This time, she didn't stop Rachel's outstretched hand as it wiped them away.
"What do you remember?" Emily knew she was walking a fine line with what Quinn would share in front of Rachel. But she was also aware that the more Quinn shared, the more Rachel would be able to understand and help her.
Quinn's eyes closed as she recalled the evens of their last encounter. "When she kissed here…" she gently touched her collar bone area, "the only thing I could think of was his lips… and his teeth digging into my skin because I didn't listen to him." Tears were now flowing freely down her cheeks. "When she touched me… All I could remember was the stubble on his cheeks as it brushed against my thighs. Rachel's touch was so soft… why couldn't I just focus on her? It was nothing like it was from him."
Rachel closed the gap between her and her wife before wrapping her arms around the taller figure. "I wish you'd told me." She whispered against Quinn's ear. It was the first time the brunette had spoken since entering the room.
"I didn't know how Rachel…I'm so sorry." Hazel eyes opened to meet Emily's. "Thank you." Emily smiled warmly at the pair – remaining quiet to allow them a moment to themselves. "I wanted to tell you." She whispered against Rachel's ear. "I wanted to tell you so badly baby. I just couldn't find the words."
"Maybe next time you can actually talk to me instead of just shutting me out?" Rachel pulled back some to look into Quinn's swollen eyes. The blonde just nodded her head in agreement. "Everything that's going on in your head, we can work through it together." She used her thumbs to wipe at the tears under Quinn's eyes before kissing her tenderly. "I'm not going anywhere baby, and however short or long this takes to get you back to 100 percent, I'm going to be here the whole time. No matter how long it takes okay?"
Quinn just nodded again – not trusting her own voice to speak right now. There was so much more she wanted to tell Rachel. She wanted to tell her about every moment of every day she was gone, but the words wouldn't come to her.
"Why don't we try something Quinn?" Emily's voice interrupted their moment together, drawing both of their attentions to her. "I've noticed that you struggle some to say things out loud. I want you to write a letter, whether it be to yourself, me, or Rachel. Explaining everything that's on your mind. Just write anything that pops into your mind. It doesn't have to be in any particular order." Quinn nodded. "I know it's going to be hard, but it's an exercise I've learned that helps people delve deeper into their suppressed memories. It helps my patients heal old, still open wounds. Writing them down on paper allows you to, in a way, relive the issue and work yourself through it. I'm hoping you'll get this done by the next time I see you. Nobody has to read the letter except you and I." Emily looked at Rachel, who's attention was wholly on her as she spoke. "I'm hoping that you'll respect that and not push her to let you read it."
"Of course not. If she wants me to read it, then I will, but if not then I'm perfectly fine with that."
"I'm starting my new job on Thursday, so I'll try to work on it before then." Quinn took several deep, calming breaths. She hoped she'd be able to actually write this letter out. In all actuality, she was scared to dive deeper into her mind to try to make sense of the things that were going on.
February 22 – 3:00 AM
Quinn glanced into the bedroom. Thankfully, her sudden upheaval didn't wake her wife. Ever since the session with Emily she'd been thinking about that letter she was suppose to write before the next visit. It was all she could think about. It was probably the cause of her violent nightmare and subsequent vomiting. Though the vomiting was mostly from the pregnancy, she knew that her nightmares helped to spark it too. After taking another moment to fix the blanket around Rachel's body she placed a gentle kiss to her forehead before leaving the bedroom. Her first stop was the kitchen to start coffee. While that brewed she popped two pieces of cinnamon bread into the toaster.
All the while her thoughts were running rampant. She found herself having a hard time focusing on any one task. The thought flashed across her mind that if she couldn't focus on things now, how would she be able to focus on her letter. Doing it now, while Rachel was asleep and thoughts were fresh in her mind would be her best bet. Being alone while writing it would hopefully allow her the concentration she needed to get it finished.
Quinn spread some apple jelly on the two pieces of cinnamon toast and poured herself a cup of coffee before making herself comfortable on the sofa. While idly eating one of the pieces of toast, she pulled a pen and notebook out of the end stand's drawer. She gripped the pen in her right hand as she tucked her legs under her to get completely comfortable to write. After tapping the pen on the paper for several long minutes, finishing her toast, and half her cup of coffee, she finally uncapped the pen and began writing anything that came to her mind.
Dearest Rachel,
There are so many things I want to say to you but I don't know how to. I want you to help me through everything I'm dealing with but at the same time I don't want any help at all. It all confuses me. Like… keeping all of this bottled up inside is bad for me, I'm aware of that. But showing it and sharing it with others, to me, shows weakness. You of all people know how I was raised. My father taught me that people feed off of other people's weaknesses. He taught me that showing weakness is a sign of failure. He used to tell me "Quinn, you're a Fabray. The Fabrays don't cry, they don't show compassion, they do anything to be on top."
You also know what kind of a man he was. How he beat me, my mom, and Fran. I guess, in a way, he's the reason I have so many problems sharing things with you. My secrecy hasn't been recent, you know that. You know I've always struggled to tell you the true details of what's going on in my imagination.
Recently though, it's become harder. I want to tell you all the things Jim did to me. I want to tell you how he used my body as his punching bag. How he would tease me with food after I'd gone two days without any. How he'd taunt me for being gay and being in love with a Broadway star. Who knows, maybe I'll find the courage to let you read this.
Emily told me to do this. At first I was so scared and confused with why, but as I sit here… fighting tears, I'm realizing that in some strange fucked up way, it's helping. I want so badly to scream at the top of my lungs, but remain silent in the corner crying at the same time. I'm nothing but a huge mixture of emotions. Please don't worry though, everything's under control. Well, more so under control than a month ago when I found out I was pregnant. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you or Santana, or Brittany when you kept hinting about getting help to cope with all of these things in my head.
The things he did to me Rachel, god… He bit me, he ripped chunks of skin out of my body with his twisted teeth. He would use rusted knives to cut into my body. He got off on hearing me scream. If I wasn't screaming in pain, he wasn't happy. If you were to look at my body and point at random scars that mar my skin, I could tell you exactly when and how I got it. Those ones on my back that you ran your fingers across, were from a whip. He pulled me to my feet by the shackles that were wrapped around my wrists. Every time I refused to call him my king, he cracked a paddle across my back. He didn't break me though. He'll NEVER be my king, or anybody's king for that matter.
He broke me in so many ways Rachel. He made me question everything. Everything about life. Everything about love. And most of all, everything about you. I started to wonder things about life and death. I wondered why I was even living at all. Why was I still fighting for a life that I was so sure I was going to lose? The day I escaped… I begged him to just finish it off. To just kill me to stop my suffering. I was in so much pain Rachel. I don't even know how I walked so far in the freezing cold and the falling snow. Somewhere inside there must have been a small glimmer of hope that I could live. That I could see you again. That's why I ran. I had given up right before Sam found me.
I remember laying on the snow covered road, awaiting my sweet, sweet death. I no longer wiped the snow that covered my face or body. I had long stopped moving. I just laid there. On the road, waiting for the grim reaper. But he never came. Off in the distance I saw headlights of a truck. As it started to slow down, that's when I lost consciousness. I don't remember anything after that until I woke up in the hospital and the doctor explained everything to me. He told me about my near hypothermia, about all of my broken bones and sutured wounds. None of that mattered. Physical injuries heal, but it's the lifetime of memories that remain constant.
Memories of his touch, his laugh, his voice, the foul smell on his breath, his rough hands, his strength… everything. I decided to let you read this letter, so I'm hoping, that when you do read this you won't judge me. You won't judge me for how I feel about anything. Rachel. I'm in love with you, for as far back as I can remember I've loved you. I don't know if I can be what you need me to be.
I'm nothing but a broken, battered woman now. Just a shadow of my former self. Yea, I can act like nothing ever happened, but just a small phrase, or a simple touch brings everything crashing back to reality for me. If you ever leave me, I'll understand why. I can't give you what you need, I don't know if I can be that loving, caring wife I once was to you. I don't look at you any differently than I did before. In a way, it's like when we first started dating, I look at you with apprehension – a constant fear that somehow I'll get hurt in the end. Now, after all these years of being with you, I know that's not going to happen, I know you'd never hurt me… but that doesn't stave off the possibility that I cling to in my mind.
Emily had told me in our last session that I need to find a way for my conscious mind to bridge the gap with my unconscious mind. In my conscious mind, I'm aware of the fact that you'd never hurt me. In any way. But in the depths of my unconscious mind it remembers what happened, and hidden in there is the fear I hold on to that I will get hurt.
I'm hoping this gives you some more understanding Rachel. Please remember that I love you. I always have, and I always will. I'm going to try harder to get better for you. I know I need to get back to normal in order to have any chance of keeping you. You say that you'll stick with me, no matter how long it takes. I hope that's true, I really do…
Yours,
Quinn
The blonde wiped the tears from her eyes before she ripped the pages out of the notebook and folded them in half. Her shaky fingers pulled an envelope out of the drawer before sliding the papers into it. With her right hand, she carefully wrote 'To: Rachel' on the front of the envelope before tossing it onto the table beside her long forgotten, and now cold cup of coffee. She glanced at it for a moment – wondering if she was doing the right thing. Deep down she knew one of two things would happen. It would draw Rachel in closer to her, or push her away because of her doubt. A doubt that Jim planted in her mind.
Quinn pulled the throw blanket off of the back of the sofa before curling up with it. Her head rested against the corner of the armrest as her eyes closed. She silently prayed she'd still be asleep when Rachel found and read the letter in the morning.
February 22 – 7:45AM
"Quinn?" Rachel called out quietly when she was awoken by her alarm clock. Her hand stretched out to feel the spot her wife had fallen asleep in the night before. The sheets were cold to the touch. Quinn had been awake for a while now. A frown crept to her face as she shut the alarm off and climbed out of bed. She ran her fingers through her tousled hair as she walked out of the bedroom. A familiar stench of coffee filled her senses. Quinn had at least been awake long enough to finish coffee. She made her way into the kitchen to find the pot a little cold. "Quinn?" She called out again before continuing her search.
When she entered the living room she smiled softly. Her wife was curled up on the corner of the sofa, sound asleep. It wasn't the first time she'd found her that way. At least she no longer panicked about it. She knew there were nights when Quinn couldn't sleep. Rachel was thankful for the times she did find her asleep, whether it be in bed with her, or on the sofa like she was now. She reached out to pull the blanket up to cover Quinn's shoulders before she noticed it. Her head tilted to the side when she spotted the envelope sitting on the table addressed to her.
Her fingers gently wrapped around it as she picked it up. To make sure she didn't disturb Quinn she retreated back into the bedroom to pull the pages free of their confines. The more she read, the more she started to cry. Quinn had actually written the letter that Emily suggested. She'd even allowed her to read it. It was full of the things she'd been wanting to know, but Quinn would never speak out loud.
Now she understood.
Granted, she didn't understand everything. She knew there was more to everything, but it was a huge step. It showed Rachel just a small portion of what happened to her and how it made her feel inside. Quinn felt inadequate.
Rachel finished reading the letter and didn't hesitate to hurry back out into the living room. She no longer cared if she was late to the set, she needed just a few hours to hold her wife. Allowing the papers to fall back onto the coffee table where she'd originally found them, she lifted the side of the blanket closest to her and carefully pressed her body against Quinn's back. She had to show her that no matter what, she wasn't going to leave her.
"Hmm?" Quinn groaned out at the sudden body heat against her back.
"Shh, it's just me baby." She nuzzled the back of Quinn's neck.
"Okay." She sank further into Rachel's embrace before allowing herself to drift back to sleep.
Rachel sniffled some before placing a kiss against the back of Quinn's head. "I love you. Forever and always."
February 24 – 9:00AM
"Well, well, well. It's been a while since I've seen the suits." Rachel smiled before reaching out to fix the collar of Quinn's blazer. "They still take my breath away." Her hand reached up to cradle her wife's cheek before meeting her lips.
Quinn blushed under her wife's scrutiny. "Whatever you say honey." She couldn't stop herself from smiling though as she received kiss after kiss from the smaller brunette. "If you don't stop, I'm going to be late." She laughed softly.
"Alright, give me a call when you get off, let me know what you want for dinner." Quinn nodded. "I love you. Good luck."
"Love you too Rach." Quinn grabbed her purse, her briefcase and her car keys before leaving the house.
The drive to the office was fairly uneventful for her. Just a typical fair share of outraged drivers. It was something Quinn had gotten used to while living in New York for all those years. California drivers weren't really all that different. Several sighs escaped her lips every time she got cut off. Stress wasn't good for the baby and she preferred to keep herself stress free.
Starting a new job was bad enough. She always hated being the new person at anything. Her last job she held for over 14 years. She knew that experience alone helped her to land her new job. She could have gotten any legal job she pleased with the experience she had on her resume. After the incident though, she knew she could never go back into criminal law. It would be too much of a constant reminder of her past.
Quinn took a deep breath as she pulled into a parking spot outside of her new office. The only person she'd met so far was the head of the firm – a woman about her age named Stacey Jackson. She was nervous about starting her day. The only thing she hoped is that there wouldn't be very many men around her.
She climbed out of her SUV and proceeded to grab her purse and her briefcase out of the back seat. After a quick smoothing of her skirt and walked confidently toward the front door of the building.
"Good morning, you must be Quinn." A young female secretary smiled brightly at Quinn when she walked through the door. Once she received a nod of confirmation she stood from her desk. "Stacey is waiting for you. Follow me please."
The blonde felt relaxed from the minute she walked into the building. She saw a few people glance at her but they simply smiled before continuing on their own business. She spotted a few older men who politely nodded to her before turning their attention back to their phone calls. Perhaps the new job wouldn't be so bad.
"Good morning." Stacey smiled from her desk when Quinn entered her office. "Nice to see you're on time, that's always a huge plus in my book." She extended her hand to the blonde before her to shake. "Please, have a seat, we need to finish up the last of your paperwork today before I get you settled in your office."
"Alright." Quinn sat down in one of the oversized, plush chairs before setting her bags on the floor beside her feet.
"We discussed in our interview what kind of cases we deal with. I'm assuming you're alright with our civil rights cases." Quinn just laughed softly. "Mind if I ask what's so funny?"
"I've never had a problem with anything civil rights. It's how my career started." The blonde smiled before leaning closer to start filling out some of the paperwork she was handed. "Plus, I've been married to my high school sweetheart for almost 20 years."
Stacey smiled at her new co-worker. "So tell me about your high school sweetheart, and why being married to them has anything to do with civil rights."
"Her name's Rachel Berry-Fabray. She's not as widely known on this side of the country as she was in New York City." Quinn smiled again. She was proud of all of her wife's accomplishments. "That's why we ended up in Los Angeles, she landed a movie deal."
"I thought the last name sounded familiar, but I didn't want to make any assumptions. If you don't mind me asking, why don't you practice criminal law out here?"
Quinn froze. Her entire body locked up. Her hand even stopped in the middle of writing her own name. All because of a simple question. It was one she knew would eventually come up, but that didn't help her be prepared for it. "I decided to make a change…"
Stacey could sense the discomfort in Quinn's body language as well as her tone of voice. "I understand." She decided not to push the issue. Whatever reason her new lawyer had for changing her practice was none of her concern. "So, hopefully you'll feel comfortable here. Ninety percent of my attorneys and interns, are all gay. That includes myself, and now you."
"What about the ten percent that's not?"
"Those two people have close friends or family members that are and they're a huge supporter of rights for us." Stacey reached for the paperwork once Quinn finished filling it out. "Now let me show you to your office and we'll get you all settled in for the day."
Quinn smiled and nodded. She stood up – grabbing her purse and briefcase, before following Stacey out of her office and down the hallway. Still nobody appeared to be treating her any differently just because she was new.
She was going to like her new job.
February 24 – 4:30PM
"Yes Rachel, you're on the car's speaker." Quinn laughed softly at her wife's overprotective nature as she pulled into the driveway of their home.
"I still don't like it when you call me while you're driving Quinn."
"If it's any consolation, I just pulled into the driveway. Calm down." She smiled at the sigh she heard on the other end of the line. "Do you have any idea when you'll get out of there today?"
"No clue."
"Well…" Quinn disconnected her phone from the car and placed it to her ear as she climbed out of the driver's seat. "At least I know what I want for dinner."
"And what's that?"
The blonde trapped the phone between her ear and shoulder as she pulled the stack of mail out of the box, then opened the front door. Once inside she reclaimed her cell with her hand. "Chinese. We haven't had it since we moved here, and I've really been wanting it."
Rachel laughed softly. "That does actually sound good. There's this little place I pass every day coming over here. I'll just stop there when I get out. You want your usual?"
"You know Rach, that's sad. That simple question shows how much we ate out when our schedules were jammed packed in New York." Rachel's laughter grew more intense. "And yes, chicken lo-mein is what I'm wanting."
"Alright, I'll see you when I get home. Do you need anything else?"
"No. Have fun. Try not to let Jason drain you too much." They quickly said their goodbyes before Quinn placed her phone on the kitchen counter. She tossed the small stack of envelopes next to it and hummed to herself as she opened the fridge for a bottle of water. After opening it and taking a long drink she made her way back to the counter to sort out the mail. " Electric bill, cell bill..." She tossed them into the same pile, "advertisement…" She tossed that and the next one to the opposite side of the counter to be thrown in the recycle bin when she was done.
A slightly wrinkled envelope caught her attention. Her name was handwritten on the center of it, along with their New York address. Beside her name was a yellow 'change of address' sticker. None of that really mattered to her. The envelope itself frightened her, until she spotted the return address in the top left hand corner. There was no name, but a street address for San Diego, California caught her eye. Neither of them knew anybody in San Diego.
She found herself examining the envelope for another few moments before finally opening it and pulling out the few pages inside. When a picture of a young woman fell out from between the sheets of paper, Quinn was both intrigued, and confused.
Her brow furrowed as she picked up the picture of a woman with Rachel's skin tone and blonde hair. She started reading the letter – nearly dropping it in the process.
Dear Quinn,
This letter has taken a lot of courage to write. To be honest, I've been wanting to write to you for a few years now. Mom and dad had always kept your contact information in case I wanted to do this. I really don't know how else to say this other than to just come right out with it. My name's Beth. I'm your daughter Quinn.
Now, if you're still reading this, there are some things I'd like to say. The first time I asked me parents about you, I was 9 years old. That's why they showed me pictures of you. There were also some they had dug up from your wedding to Rachel. I was wondering, at the time, why there were so many pictures of you and her in the papers. But mom had explained it to me that you were a very important person in New York City and that Rachel was a star on Broadway.
Years have passed since then and I've come to learn so much more. I know that Rachel's about to start a movie in Hollywood and you both are moving to California. I'm hoping this gets to you before you move. Because once you move I don't know if you'll get it at all, and the opportunity for you to know that I don't hate you.
In reality I've looked up to you ever since I learned who you were when I was 9. I know it may sound odd because the only time I've ever met you was when I was born. I don't want to seem like a stalker. I'm more of an admirer. I admire everything you've done Quinn, the path you've taken in life, the obstacles you've overcome…
What really helped push me toward finally contacting you was hearing the horrible news about what happened right before Christmas. Hearing about something like that, reminded me that life is too short for regrets and had I not written this I would have had a lifetime full of unanswered questions.
Let me start out by saying that I don't hate you. I know the story of why I was placed up for adoption. I know you were 16 when you had me and had no way of taking care of me. I can't even begin to imagine what kind of dilemma you were in. I'll never begin to understand how hard of a decision that was for you to be forced into making. And I respect you for that.
I want to tell you a little more about myself. After my parents adopted me, I ended up growing up in Dayton. During high school dad got a promotion and we ended up having to move out here to California so he could work at his company's home office here in San Diego. After high school I did what a lot of my friends at the time did, took a year off. Now, I'm currently finishing up my Junior year at San Diego State where I'm majoring in Film and Television production.
I'm happy with everything I'm doing, I feel like I'm one step closer to a dream. Especially now that I've finally gathered up the courage to write this to you. I'm hoping that maybe we could talk, I'll leave me phone number at the bottom. Or if you're not up for that then I will completely understand. I honestly don't even know if you've read this far. If you have, thanks. Just… thanks.
-Beth
February 24 – 5:30PM
Rachel hummed as she walked through the front door carrying her purse and a bag of take-out food. "Honey, I got out earlier than expected." Rachel called out after she kicked the door closed behind her. She shrugged when she didn't receive a response. Her assumption was that Quinn was either in the shower or taking a nap. But a small smile crept to her face when she walked into the kitchen to see the blonde still in her business suit, looking at something on the counter. "How was your first day?" She asked as she placed the bag down.
"F-fine."
It quickly became clear that something had happened. "Baby?" The brunette gently placed her hand on Quinn's shoulder. Just as soon as she did, the blonde spun around and threw herself into Rachel's arms. "What happened?"
After several minutes of Quinn releasing the tears she'd been holding in since she started reading and rereading the letter, she finally calmed enough to speak. "Sh-she doesn't… h-hate me."
Rachel was even more confused than she was five minutes ago. "Who doesn't hate you? Honey, talk to me."
Quinn picked up the pages and the photo before leading her wife into the living room. "Beth…" She spoke once they were both seated. When all she saw was more confusion plastered on her wife's face, Quinn handed her the letter. Rachel quickly skimmed it before looking at her wife, eyes wide with shock. "Read it." She encouraged before leaning back against the opposite arm rest and looking down at the picture of the woman. Of her daughter.
A few minutes passed before Rachel finally reached for Quinn's hand. "What are you going to do?"
"I really don't know. It's all just so random." Quinn's eyes never looked up from the photo.
"She's beautiful you know." The blonde nodded. "She looks just like you did at that age."
"But a little darker."
Rachel rested her head on her wife's shoulder. "This could be the only chance you have to make things right… To finally get some closure for having to give her up all those years ago." Quinn just nodded. "Hey… look at me." Quinn slowly locked eyes with her wife. Rachel took a moment to wipe at the tears that soaked the blonde's cheeks. "She doesn't hate you. She thanked you at the end of the letter."
"Thanked me for giving her away…" Quinn's heart broke at just the thought.
"No silly, she thanked you for giving her a chance at life." Again Quinn just nodded. "Talk to me honey."
"I really just need to think about it." Quinn kept her fingers wrapped tightly around the picture as she stood up and made her way into the kitchen. "I'm hungry."
Rachel sighed, she knew Quinn wasn't going to talk about it, at least not right now. She hated nothing more than not knowing what her wife was feeling or thinking. The brunette stood from the sofa, placed the letter on the coffee table and followed Quinn into the kitchen to get their own containers of food. It was going to be a long, peaceful night with Quinn not talking.
Sorry if the ending feels a little rushed. I don't particularly care for it. Jennception said it looks good. So...yea.
on't forget those review buttons :D