Rachel felt light-headed and slightly nauseous. She wished desperately that Quinn could be here with her, but she understood that this was something she had to do alone.

While no one could deny, least of all Rachel herself, that she was one for theatrics, she dreaded confrontation. It was one thing when it was scripted; in fact, the only scenes Rachel liked doing more than an argument were, of course, show-stopping musical numbers.

But this, this was different. This was the moment where she broke Finn Hudson's heart...and as much as she loved Quinn, that didn't mean she didn't have any feelings for Finn at all. They had been through so much together, and she'd tried to convince herself over and over, especially since he'd put a ring on her finger, that she truly wanted to spend her life with him.

The more she made these stubborn attempts at telling herself she loved Finn and only Finn, though, the more she noticed Quinn's hazel eyes, the curve of the girl's thigh beneath her skirt, the breathtaking sound of her laugh.

Sometimes, when Quinn chose to sit next to her in rehearsal, Rachel's hands would start to tremble as she imagined trailing her fingers through Quinn's hair, down her back, to hold her waist and bring her closer. She'd always grip the edge of the chair as tightly as she could, willing herself to focus on what Mr. Schuester was saying, but she hadn't always succeeded.

Thinking back on it, Rachel had no clue why she'd dismissed these fantasies. It wasn't as though she was afraid that her family wouldn't support her, and this went for the Glee club as well. Maybe she was afraid of being rebuffed by Quinn, who had appeared to be straight; maybe she had tried sSo hard to tell herself she was in love with Finn that any evidence to the contrary was simply shoved to the back of her mind.

Of course, everything had changed a few days before. After a surprisingly heated argument between herself and Quinn in the bridal shop, Rachel suffered a horrible nightmare in which Quinn had been in a fatal car accident. In the dream, Rachel finally came to terms with her love for Quinn...and awoke to find that the girl was healthy and whole, had in fact not been in a car accident at all, and-miraculously-returned Rachel's feelings.

She had told Quinn she was going to call off the wedding, and she meant it...but now that Finn was on his way over, Rachel wasn't sure if she could do this. Yesterday, the day she was supposed to get married, she'd claimed to be violently ill with some sort of stomach flu.

But her dads knew better, and they'd insisted on inviting Finn over. They weren't exactly devastated that the wedding was off, but they liked Finn, and felt that he deserved an explanation.

There was a knock on her bedroom door, and she sprang off the bed. Her knees were so weak that she immediately sank down again.

"C-come in," she called in a thin, thready voice, and then dove under the covers on an impulse-she was supposed to be sick with some nasty stomach bug, after all.

Finn filled the doorway, broad-shouldered and 6'3". The look of concern on his face nearly wrenched Rachel's heart into pieces.

"How are you feeling, Rach?" he asked, coming over to the bed and nearly sitting on her legs. "Oh-sorry-"

His hand lay right next to hers on the comforter. Steeling herself, she placed her left hand-her bare left hand-over his. "F-Finn? I have someting to tell you."

Before she could continue, Finn closed his eyes and gently pulled his hand away. "You don't want to marry me, do you, Rachel?"

It was impossible to speak for a moment; despite his calm tone, she felt as though he had punched her in the stomach. "I-I-"

"I knew it when you didn't show up yesterday," he said in a curiously flat voice. "Actually, I knew it when you got into NYADA. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew you only said yes because you thought you didn't have anything else."

"Isn't that why you proposed?" Rachel blurted out, and then clapped her hand-her offensive left hand-to her mouth.

She hadn't meant to say that. She hadn't meant to say anything like that.

Finn looked surprised, but she thought she could detect a hint of subterfuge in his expression. "N-no," he protested. "I proposed because I lo-"

"You said it right in front of me, Finn!" Rachel burst out. "Why can't I have anything good in my life? Remember? I was sitting right next to you-in the booth, at Breadstix?"

"Yeah!" Finn retorted, his face and neck turning a blotchy red, which always happened when he was both angry and embarrassed. "And when I proposed to you, I said you were the only good thing in my life. Remember that, Rachel?"

He stood up, almost losing his balance as he stumbled away from her. "And what about a few weeks ago, when you had my parents and I over for-"

"-my parents and me-"

"God, whatever, my parents and me over for dinner. And we had that fight? And you-you just acted like I had no future, no plans-you just assumed I would work right out of high school-"

"First of all," Rachel interjected, jumping to her feet and squaring up to Finn, "there is nothing wrong with joining the work force, and I never said there was. You did. Secondly, the only thing you've ever shown ambition for is football. You love Glee, I know that, b-but..."

Rachel faltered at the look on Finn's face. "But what, Rachel?" he asked sharply. "I'm not as good as you, is that it?"

"I-Finn-"

Before she could finish, Finn had torn out of the room, slamming the door so roughly behind him that it quivered in its frame. Promptly, Rachel burst into tears.

It wasn't supposed to have gone like that. While she hadn't expected he would be happy about it, she'd thought they would have a calm, heartfelt discussion about their relationship and the future.

Finn would have said, "I just want you to be happy, Rachel" and she would have echoed the sentiment. They would have hugged, smiled at each other. He certainly wouldn't have left in such a state that she could hear his descent down the stairs, followed by Hiram and Leroy's concerned voiced, capped off by front door banging open and then shut again.

As she dropped onto the bed again, curling up and burying her face in her pillow, she heard her phone go off, a tri-tone that heralded a new text message. Groping for it on the bedside table, she saw a text from Quinn.

Hey, Rach. Have you let him know yet?

With shaking fingers, Rachel tapped out a 'yes'. A few minutes later, her phone went off again, this time telling her she had an e-mail-which was also from Quinn.

It contained a link to a YouTube video. Utterly perplexed, Rachel tapped on the link to open it.

A low, sweet voiced issued from the phone's speakers.

Heart beats fast, colors and promises. How to be brave, how can I love when I'm afraid to fall?

Rachel smiled tremulously, her heart that had been aching a few minutes before now whole and full.

I have died every day waiting for you. Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I love you for a thousand more.

"Thank you," Rachel typed out. "Thank you so much, Quinn."

A few minutes later, this response: "For a thousand years, for a thousand more. Remember that, Rach."