"Familiarity is the root of the closest friendships, as well as the intensest hatreds." – Antoine Rivarol
The night of the visitation goes smoothly, well as smoothly as it can for the circumstances anyways. I can feel the exhaustion settling into my bones, but resign myself to stay awake for a few more hours. The gang meets at a hole-in-the-wall diner that is relatively near to our hotels but somewhat difficult to find. When we finally arrive it's late enough that the establishment is pretty much empty apart from our group, which is to our benefit.
We talk, joke, and reminisce. There is a heavy weight over all of us with the events of the day, and it just feels good to just be. There are small groups dispersed throughout the dining area, but I can't seem to force myself to join any of them. Instead I hunker down in a booth in the corner and relish in the silence around me.
I learned, at a relatively young age, how to handle things on my own and about putting on a good face for others. It's something that I have literally perfected after all these years. It isn't until I rest my head against the wall that I realize that I am literally wiped from the effort it takes just to keep smiling. No, I wasn't close with Quinn. In fact, for most of our high school years I could not stand her.
But she was gone now.
My life was full of experiences; of falling in love, making mistakes, growing, and learning. There were times when I felt lost and confused, times when I would feel lonely, times when I was so filled with love that I could barely breathe, and there were times when my life felt completely out of my control. Quinn would never have the opportunity to say goodbye to her husband, she would never have the chance to have another daughter, would never get to see the impact that she had made on our small group.
The thought was terrifying.
Before I can fully digest the feeling that is building up inside of me, a cup of coffee is placed in front of me with a gentle voice telling me to "drink." I take a sip of the bitter mixture, my lips curling around the edge of the cup to blow the steam away. I feel Finn move into the booth beside me, his large frame taking up most of the small seat. He slides close to me, his arm wrapping around my shoulder as he pulls my head away from the wall and rests it on his shoulder.
"Are you alright?" His voice is soft, almost a whisper.
I find myself turning to look at him, my head nodding as my fake smile plasters onto my face. "I'm fine, Finn." The words sound hollow to me, an easy placation that you give someone instead of answering their question, but he seems to buy them. If I had learned anything from marrying Finn it was that, while he was a nice guy, he wasn't exactly the best boyfriend or husband. I sometimes question whether or not he ever really knew me.
#
I didn't really ever think that I would end up with Finn. I mean, sure, when I was in high school I would have foolish fantasies about the two of us running away together and eloping, living happily ever after. But in a lot of ways I knew that they were fantasies and that is what made them so perfect in the first place. Our whole sophomore year of high school we danced around each other, the ambiguity of our relationship always taunting me; always just on the horizon.
Then Regionals happened and for awhile we were happy.
Our junior year was a series of break-ups and make-ups that rivaled that of Puck's relationship with Quinn. It wasn't that I didn't trust him (an issue I had struggled with when dealing with my relationship with Noah) and it wasn't that I didn't love him but more that something between us felt off. A lot of times when I was talking I could see the way his eyes glazed over and the way that he pretended to listen. He was insecure about his reputation and what other people thought of him and it showed in the way he handled himself.
The relief I saw in his eyes the day we broke up was the final straw. I forced myself to move on and literally threw myself into my music and schoolwork. Then one day after class Noah pulled me to the side and asked me if I was alright.
It was the first time anyone had seen through my mask and it had literally scared the shit out of me.
I remember how hostilely I responded, my words laced with sarcasm and venom. Noah had just smiled and threw his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into a hug. "It's about fucking time you got a backbone."
Somehow that conversation, that moment, led to something else and as San put it I "tamed the mother pucker." So when Noah and I were officially over and the dust had settled, Finn was the last person I thought I would end up with. Sure we had shared some kind of moment on his couch that night and he was there for me when I truly needed someone to be, but the idea of a romantic relationship with Finn hadn't even crossed my mind.
I was just so lonely.
Britt and San weren't talking to me, a development that came about once they found out the details of our breakup. I figured that in time we would reconnect and that I could explain the way I was feeling, so I gave them space. And in giving them space, in not fighting, I basically gave up on my two closest friends. I had other people I could turn to, but none of them seemed to understand the hopelessness and loneliness that I was feeling.
It was while I was at dinner with Tina that she brought up Finn for the first time. He was hanging out with Mike that night and the guys wanted to know if we would meet them to play some pool. I think, in a way, Tina knew what I was going through and was just trying to give me something to take my mind off of everything. I didn't have any other plans, save going back to an empty apartment and feeling depressed, so I agreed.
Tina and I met the two of them at a local sports bar, one of those that have huge TV screens lining wall after wall. It was a bit awkward at first, the noise in the room making it hard to talk or hear without leaning in close to each other. As the night went on and pitchers were emptied, I found myself becoming someone different, someone I had always in some small way wanted to be.
When it started to get late, the four of us trudged out of the bar. The night air was chilly and as I stood, waiting for the valet to bring my car, Finn had taken off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. It didn't matter that it was freezing out, or that he just had a T-shirt on underneath. He was concerned about my well-being and the thought was more intoxicating that the booze I had just drunk.
None of my friends (save Tina and Mike) were communicating with me, hell most of them had dropped off the face of the planet. I was in a bad place and having someone, anyone, dote on me had felt so wonderful. So the next day when I woke up, hung-over and starving, I called Finn up and met him at our diner.
It was easy to play a role with him and for him not to question it. It was also easy to fall back into our old patterns. I wasn't looking for a romantic relationship; I was just looking for a friend, for someone to care about me and about my life. Somehow in the process of trying to find that, I instead found myself in a relationship that was confusing and undefined.
#
We sit together in the booth silently. Once upon a time I would have cherished the feel of his fingers brushing against my hair, the feel of the heat of his body as he sets next to me. Now all I can think about is the fact that he isn't Noah. On some level I know that he is just searching for some form of comfort, but for once in my life I'm not sure I can give more of myself than I already have.
My body shifts away from him, my head resting against the wall. My lidded eyes scan the faces of our friends before settling on Noah. He is sitting at one of the small round tables, Matt and Mike flanked on each side of him. There is a mischievous grin on his face, a sure sign that he is up to no good. They are doing something with their silverware and napkins that I probably wouldn't understand even if I was fully awake.
As if sensing my gaze, Noah turns so that his eyes meet mine. His eyes scan the scene, his face furrows for a moment, and then he is moving towards the booth. Mike and Matt cajole and heckle him but the words roll off of him as his eyes scan my face.
"Finn, you're stifling the fuck outta my girl," There is a hint of a warning in the tone of his voice and he jerks his head to the side. The arm around my shoulders moves, followed by the hot body and I feel the cool air of the diner sweep across me. It's surprising and I find my eyes shooting open, taking in the two men standing before me.
"We were just talking, Puck," Finn replies his tone defensive, "No need to get your panties in a twist."
"Hudson," there is malice in the word and I find myself sliding out of the booth and stepping between the two men, two friends. I place my hands up and use the last of my energy to literally shove them away from each other. No one speaks, and the silence drags on far longer than it should. I feel a pair of arms wrap around me, holding me up, and then my back is pressed against Noah's chest. For a moment I feel relaxed.
"Enough with the dick measuring," Santana snipes, tugging me away from Noah to sit at a table with her and Britt. I rest against the formica tabletop, my body literally shutting down.
I have this image in my mind of Aden after he was first born. His hands are clenched into little fists and he is looking up at me with this look of pure love. It's the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and it literally took my breath away from me. The image is there, now, right behind my eyelids and as hard as I try I can't force it away.
"I need to go," I mutter as I find myself rising and stumbling out of the diner. I need time to breathe, to force the tightness out of my heart. I also can't put up with the animosity, the tension between the two friends. I know why it's there; know that it will never really evaporate through the years.
And if my history is any indication, then it's only going to get worse.
#
When I had walked in the door I had known immediately that I should just turn around and leave. The smell of coffee permeated the air and brought back a torrent of memories that I tried to block as I made my way to the counter. I placed my order, and stood off to the side as my strawberry scone was plated and my cappuccino frothed.
This had been our spot, Noah and mine, since the day that we had moved to New York. There was something about the atmosphere, the general laid back attitude of the place that we had both loved. It was also so close to our old apartment that it made it the ideal jaunt when we had a coffee or scone craving that needed to be met.
But we had been broken up for a few months and the memories of our trips, of our relationship were still just too painful.
"Berry," the barista called out. I picked up my items and made my way across the room to the small leather chair and sunk into the material. Taking a huge bite of the scone I let out a small moan, and closed my eyes to relish the flavor.
"Rachel?"
The words took me off guard and I remember looking up into Noah's eyes worried about what I would find. He had looked, to put it mildly, wonderful. He had set down in the chair across from mine, his eyes scanning my features.
"No one has heard from you for a few months," there was concern in his voice, but also a bit of relief. "How are things going?"
I didn't want to have this conversation, didn't want to hear about how happy his life was without me, and I couldn't bear to tell him about how unhappy I was in mine.
"Things are fine, I've found a new place to live that is a bit on the outskirts of the city, but it's nice enough and I can afford it." The room suddenly seemed so quiet, so unlike the low hum of noise I was used to.
There was sadness on Noah's face, a resignation in his eyes and in every move that he made. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I smiled sadly at him as I excused myself to take it. It was Finn wanting to know when I was going to be coming over, that he was going to order us some food for supper. I really wasn't in the mood to deal with whatever was going on with Finn, especially not after having seen Noah so I tried to stall the only way I could.
I lied and told Finn I wasn't feeling well and that I would talk to him the next day.
When I finally sat down in the seat across from Noah I could see the slow simmer of anger that was building underneath the surface. "Is he treating you well?" he questioned. I didn't know how to explain to him that Finn and I really didn't even have a relationship, that I wasn't really even sure if I knew what the hell I wanted anymore but that I still wasn't happy.
Instead I responded with a, "Noah, please."
He had dropped his coffee cup on the counter, the clang echoing through the room. I could feel the people looking at us as Noah shook his head and rose from his seat, a string of curses being muttered under his breath. I watched him walk away, the sting in my heart hurting worse than it had in months.
It wasn't until later that night, while I was lying in bed that I realized what I had done. Inadvertently I had pitted the two friends against each other and ruined any relationship they would ever have. I remember the tears that dripped down my cheeks as I had buried my face in my pillow, the felling of self-loathing so strong that I was literally sick with myself.
Sometime during the night I had passed out, not waking until the next morning when there was a loud pounding on my door. I remember flying from my bed and running down the hall, my eye peeking through the small peep-hole to see Finn standing there, fists clenched. I don't know what I was expecting when I opened the door, but it wasn't the site in front of me.
There was dried blood on Finn's shirt, his lip was split open, and I could see the formation of bruises beginning to welt on his face. He had pushed past me and entered my apartment, his fists clenching and unclenching as he stared me down.
"You weren't feeling well, huh?" he questioned, his tone dripping with anger. "I got a nice little visit from Noah last night and I believe I have you to thank for that Rachel."
I couldn't form the words to respond, couldn't find it in myself to acknowledge what he was saying. Setting Finn on the couch, I had grabbed the first aid kit out of my bathroom and began to gently clean and tend to his face.
"You know what though, Rach?" His voice was tight and so unlike the Finn I had come to know. "For all I can care, Puck can go fuck himself. I win, Rachel. I've got you." While the sentiment was supposed to be sweet, I found myself loathing the man in front of me. I wasn't his possession, wasn't his prize. The insinuation made me weary.
But then, when I looked into his eyes, I thought I could still see a bit of the old Finn, the one that would have been hurt that his best friend had done this to him. I had looked over the bruises on his face, my body filling with guilt and I prayed for forgiveness.
No lie... I'm absofuckingloutly in love with the next chapter... just thought I would share :)
Coming up: wishes, closet sex, and a pregnancy?
Thanks to those of you who pm'd me about the beta position... The slot has been filled by LadyGambit!
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