Part IV: The Year Everything Changed

Chapter 1 - The Story

Suggested listening: Brandi Carlisle's The Story as sung by Sara Ramirez from Grey's Anatomy: The Musical Event

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday you, happy birthday dear mama, happy birthday to you!" I sing to my wife, with Holden and Harper. They clap animately before helping you blow out your candles. I couldn't and wouldn't put 45 candles on your cake, so I put 10 on, reasoning that 4 + 5 = 9 plus 1 more for good luck. We had spent a wonderful day at the Children's Museum of Manhattan. The twins had just turned 3 years old two weeks ago. Gosh, they were growing up so fast. I swear, if I blinked, I could remember bringing them home from the hospital. Here we were, three years later. After we fed and put them down for the night, I was cooking a candlelight dinner for you. Of course, I was making you your favorite meal. As an appetizer, bruschetta and shrimp cocktail. For your main course, I was making you filet mignon with a baked potato and creamed spinach. For me, I making halibut, with the same sides. I became pescatarian while I was pregnant with Holden. I was craving fish, for some unknown reason. Now, I would eat seafood on occasion, like tonight.

I was glad that we could have a night to ourselves. It had been so long since we had a date. When we did, it was more nights like this. We didn't like leaving H squared with a sitter, so we would wait until they fell asleep, then spend time together. It was when we could be comfortable, in our house clothes, and just enjoy being in each other's presence.

"Babe, for someone who doesn't eat meat, you cook this perfectly every time, I swear," Santana exclaims.

I smile at her, as dip my fork inside my baked potato. "Years of practice, my love."

After dinner, you start a fire in our family room. We sit on the couch with the bottle of wine and enjoy the silence. With two toddlers, it is rare that get these moments. We let the silence wrap around us like a warm blanket. Santana nuzzles against me, burrowing into my cocoon.

"You are so warm, Quinnie. I could fall asleep," she tells me.

I snake my arms around you and kiss her shoulder. "Me too, babe. I am so tired. The museum really tired me out. This time, Holden was difficult and Harper was well-behaved. Sometimes, they switch personalities. Holden did love the finger painting, while Harper showed great patience with the puzzles. Once we gave them a little sugar, in the form of chocolate chip cookies, they both settled down, finally content. By the time we strapped them in their car seats, they were both sound asleep. Now, my wife and I were ready for slumber. I remember that I still have a present to give her.

I withdraw my arms and push to get up. Even though you wasn't facing me, I know that you are pouting. "I'll be right back, San," I kiss the side of your head before getting off the couch.

I am excited to give you your present. It is something you has been talking about forever. I come bouncing back, with a small square box, tied with a bow.

"Q, you didn't have to get me anything. You know that all of this is all I could ever want. You are my present. Our babies are my present," you tells me.

"Yes, I know, but I also know how excited you get at the prospect of presents. So, thank you for saying all of that and here you go," I say, extending my gift-holding hand.

You looks at me and I can see the joy in your eyes. Siting up, you take the present with your left hand. You are so cute, as you shake the box, putting your ear up to the box.

"No guessing, babe. Just open it!"

You pull the bow off and opens the box. I see your face light up, as you take the paper coupon I have made out of the box.

"Quinn! I have talking about this forever! Oh my god! When can we do it?" she says in one full breath.

"Breathe, San. Well, I thought we could get it next month, once you are off service."

"I can't believe you did this and you are going to get one too?"

"Yes, baby. We have talked about getting matching tattoos forever. You see another piece of paper folded in the box. Is this-"

"I drew an idea that I had for what we could get inked."

You slowly unfolds the paper and stare in amazement. "Quinn, it is beautiful. Tell me about it."

"The lioness represents you: proud, strong, confident and courageous. The lamb represents me: gentle, compassionate, charming, and peaceful. The garnet bow that binds us together represents our marriage and garnet is your birthstone. I chose these animals because of the contrasts they pose. It is my version of yin and yang. We complement each other. It is how we work together. The white carnations are yours and the babies' birth flower, which symbolize sweet innocence and pure love. The sapphire accents are my birthstone. This tattoo tells the story of us, San. Do you like it?" I shyly ask you.

You doen't say anything because you are a woman of action. You rocket towards me, finding my lips like a heat-seeking missile.

"Just when I think you are all business and academia, you do something like this. I forgot what a great artist you are. It is perfect, Quinnie. I love it. Where were you thinking of getting it?"

"I think it would look wonderful in between our shoulder blades. That way, it would be only something we could see. It is our private piece of artwork to each other."

"You have thought of everything. So, where are we going to have this done? It needs to be someone who knows what they are doing. Someone who practice clean technique..." she begins to rattle off.

"I am taking you to our favorite bed and breakfast in the Berkshires. Do you remember Andrew, one of my favorite students?" You nod. "Well, he is an amazing tattoo artist. He did tattoos on the side to help pay for his NYU education. He has a studio there and he told me to contact him when I finally figured out what I wanted."

"But Andrew was your student like a year ago! You have been planning this the whole time?"

I nod. You look stunned. "This is something that is going to be a part of us for the rest of our lives. I want it to have meaning for us. I wanted it to be a work of art, in which our bodies were the blank canvas. It took a while to figure out what I wanted the tattoo to represent. I know what the tattoo on your forearm means. I know that it will always be special to you. I wanted our tattoo to be special to you, too. This is my gift to you. I have seen Andrew's work in his portfolio and he is amazing. And I know that his preparation and technique would meet your high medical standards. I have already sent him my drawing and this is his representation. We are going up Valentine's Day weekend. Your parents will be flying in that weekend to watch Holden and Harper."

"You are perfect. You do know that Lucy Quinn Fabray."

"I am your kind of perfect, Santana Maribel Lopez. I am perfect for you," I say, as I boop your nose. You laugh, before pulling me towards our bedroom.

After all these years, making love to my wife is easy. It is second nature. Yet, each time, it is new and exciting. Every time, we fill a blank page in the story of us. It is a book that has many pages written and many more to fill. As I lay naked with you, I am reminded of how far we have come. The path to each other is riddled with good times and bad times. It was what marriage is. I promised you, when I proposed, that it wouldn't always be rainbows and flowers. We have had our difficult times. It is when our love was tested that we came through the fire, even stronger than ever.

Ours is no ordinary love story. Sure, people either want to believe that their personal love story is the stuff of the movies: broad, sweeping romantic gestures that culminate in a happily-ever-after ending. Or they want to believe that falling in love with their eventual life partner was an inevitably- that it was meant to be and it was fated. Or that finding this specific person completed them. I'm not saying that this wasn't how it was for you and I. It was all of that and more.

How was I know, when we met in 3rd grade, that I met my soulmate? Playing hopscotch, double dutch, and jacks on the playground with you, Tina, and Britt was the beginning of our story. In high school, being Cheerios and developing our jealous rivalry nearly tore us apart. It was where we discovered who we were, sexually, as we bedded the "it" boys to hide our true selves away. It was where I fell in love with Rachel and you fell in love Brittany. McKinley was a benchmark in both of our lives, where self-discovery scared us, but we could turn to each other. Leaving Lima was another red-flag moment in our lives. It was a dream that we had talked about constantly and to moving to the East Coast with you, Tina, Rachel, and Britt was the support system I needed to thrive at Yale. Our one-night stand together laid the brickwork for our foundation. I didn't know it back then, as I laid in your arms, that these were the arms I would come home to for the rest of my life. I thought that it would be Rachel, just as you assumed it would be Brittany for you. The event that changed it all was the rape. I could never go back to who I was. I could only move forward, with your friendship and love. Being in love with you has been the best decision in my life. I chose to open my heart up to you; to make myself vulnerable, giving my all to you. Santana, what you gave back to me in return was your love in spades. The day along the banks of the Charles, where we exchanged vows in front of our friends and the world, was one of the best days of my life. I knew that our lives would forever be intertwined. My heart took root in yours; my home would be your home for always. Together, we reached the pinnacle of professional success. We created our family, becoming mothers to Holden and Harper. And here we are now, after twenty years of marriage and almost thirty years of being best friends. Sometimes it feel like it was only yesterday, when the seeds of our life took root. Other times, it feels like we have been together for a lifetime. All I know is that the day you walked into Miss Bliss' classroom changed my life forever. Your shy smile did something to me. It was the day my heart was touched by yours. And so it began, the story of us.

I look down at you, softly snoring in your sleep, head lain against my chest. My heartbeat still accelerates for you. I burst with excitement for our future yet to be. Running my hand through your jet black hair, I smile. You are mine for eternity, Santana. This is were I was always supposed to be.