Chapter 41

Sheer will had kept him from falling into Mercedes' arms when she appeared through the door and stepped into the foyer. He had felt Quinn's eyes on his back urging him to commit to things he didn't know if he could anymore. Numb was all he felt as he tried to make his way out of that foyer and escape her. Quinn had beaten him so badly with all she revealed that he wasn't sure if he could stomach anymore truths. Completely childish, he knew, but all he wanted was to snap his fingers and have her disappear or better yet have her transform back to the Quinn he had always known. This woman was practically a stranger, telling him inconceivable stories about affairs and deceptions of the heart.

And yet, if Sam were to be completely honest, a small part of him was not particularly shocked by what he had just learned. Sam had felt pretty deceived when she left him for Puck, heartbroken and bitter, just the way Mike had seemed tonight. Although he didn't blame Quinn for falling in love with someone else, he had grown up enough to realize that the heart sometimes acted without reason, he couldn't help feeling like maybe Quinn's heart was a tad more fickle than most. He didn't want to think of her that way, he had always assumed her love for Puck and not him was a one-time thing, something that just happened, like freak hailstorms, or swarming locusts, he never believed she would repeat a similar pattern with his own brother no less, but she had, and that called all that he knew about her into question. Maybe choosing Puck wasn't solely about having stronger feelings for him, maybe it was about her just wanting to feel something for someone else. Like a song heard too often, changing from something beloved to something detested, deleted from the rotation and pushed to the back of the shelf. Could that have been what happened back in high school? Had Quinn simply grown bored of him and decided to move on?

All those thoughts continued to whip him as he leaned into Mercedes' soft little hands flitting about his face like a butterfly. She repeatedly asked him what was wrong, but Sam couldn't find the words to coherently answer. Everything was wrong. All that he knew and believed had been stripped away. She was his life and his future, the mother of his baby, the woman he knew he would love forever, and in a blink she'd vanished leaving him wretchedly alone. The thought of being without her hurt, physically choking him, as he struggled to move his mind to a more positive place. Quinn wasn't perfect, that was fine, he didn't need her to be, but to have her be dishonest, that was more than he could bear. So he grabbed onto something real, something solid right in front of him, wrapping his arm about Mercedes' waist, pulling her tighter, holding her for support, like he did when he was in the hospital. His little nurse was always there, eerily showing up just when he needed her. It wasn't right to put his problems about another woman on her, not when he knew the depth of her feelings for him, so he held his tongue, while he clung to her, selfishly thankful that she hadn't turned her back on him completely, even though she should have long before.

Leading him beyond his pain, out of the foyer, away from Quinn, into the light, technically she took him back to the party, but it felt like she was heading him toward salvation when she took him by the hand. Shoving him into a plush leather chair, she offered him a drink, and a tentative smile. A caress of his cheek, and a soft kiss on his lips, she had whispered "you're okay" giving him a small smile. And for a few seconds, he almost felt like he was.

Sam turned up his nose as he took a sip of the hot liquid. "You forgot something in my tea, like the teabag."

"It's not tea, it's hot water," Mercedes stated.

He put the mug on the table, pushing it away from him. "Can I please have some tea in my hot water then?"

Mercedes pushed the mug back toward him, leaving her arm across the table, until he picked up the drink. "No. Just drink." Seeming satisfied when he picked up the mug, she retracted her arm and sat back. "It's Chinese medicine. You'll feel better. Trust me."

"Water is Chinese medicine?" he asked skeptically. "Are you sure you're a nurse?" Sam eyed her over his mug. She looked so small in the oversized white leather chair.

The whole area had been redone for the party, so completely transformed that Sam couldn't tell what part of his house it was. There was a long buffet table along the wall and smaller tables with food stations scattered around it. The decor was in whites and blues like the rest of the place, but unlike the other rooms, this one was brightly lit. He especially liked the carved ice sculptures representing various characters from Celtic mythology, so well done Sam found himself hating the thought that they would soon melt.

He always liked sculptures, the way a figure could be captured so intricately in stone or bronze, frozen and perfect, almost better than the real thing. Real life was so roughly hewn, a string of moments, clusters of people, connected by happenstance or biology, lacking the symmetry and structure of art. If only he had the power to craft his own life the way sculptors did. He'd be sure to leave out all the sharp corners and jagged edges. His mind drifted to Quinn despite his best efforts to block her out. He couldn't think about art without thinking of her. She was the one that opened his eyes to all the beauty in the world, made him see that a sculpture was more than a clump of rock, that a poem was more than a tangle of words. He loved seeing the world through her eyes, the light and the wonder, the eager promise of exploring what existed beyond Lima.

Sam had tried to see the deserts of Afghanistan through Quinn coated lenses, and at times he succeeded, actually enjoying the beauty of the land beyond the blood soaked wages of war. A pain twisted in his side, as he realized how much he had missed Quinn since high school. Waking up to this world so different than he remembered, had left him feeling overjoyed that he finally had Quinn back in his life, his father may have tried to keep them apart, but at least Quinn was close enough to touch and not halfway around the world as she had been for most of this adult life. But now it felt like she had floated away again. She was somewhere in his house, but to Sam she might as well have been across the globe. He never knew it was possible to miss someone that was right at arm's length.

Sam looked over at Mercedes, her brown eyes were on him, watching him intently. She would understand this, he was sure. This feeling of loss and utter disappointment in someone that once represented everything good. Mercedes felt this way about him, she'd said it indirectly in so many little ways, sad eyes always searching for him, even when he was standing right in front of her. Sam guessed he would be left to do the same, sadly searching for his Quinn in the person she seemed to have become.

"Trust me it works. Ask Mike he lived in China, I'm sure he drank hot water all the time."

"I don't want to talk to Mike," Sam said quickly placing the mug on the table.

"So he's the reason you have a line down the center of your forehead?" Mercedes asked.

She watched him, waiting for his reply. He tried not to flinch as he answered, not wanting to get Mercedes started on a fishing expedition if she detected his uneasiness.

"I don't have a line. I'm fine."

Mercedes inched her chair closer to him, putting them almost side by side. With one hand she gave him his mug, and with the other she rubbed at his forehead.

"Drink some more."

"You are relentless," he said, feeling more relaxed. "I can't believe I married a fascist dictator."

She crinkled her nose at the comment, trying to hide a smile. "If I were a dictator I would have you strung up by your toes forcing the water down your throat."

The seriousness of her tone would have made him a little nervous if she weren't stroking his hair as she said it. Sam leaned into her hand, like a puppy needing to be rubbed.

"How do I know you haven't done that to me before?" He raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like some kinky sex act. I've heard about you nurses," he smirked, running his finger along the slope of her nose.

"What have you heard and mind you I have boiling hot water hovering right above your crotch," she warned, covering the mug he held with her hand.

"I've heard you're into some naughty stuff like blindfolds and chains, candle wax in delicate places and when you really want to get freaky, hot water with no tea."

"Drink," she ordered.

"Yes master," he said lowering his eyes before obediently drinking more from the mug.

"That's Mistress Mercedes to you." She stood up. "That water better be gone by the time I get back."

"Where are you going?" he asked anxiously as she started to move away. He didn't want her to go and leave him alone with his thoughts. She had been such a lovely a distraction from all the turmoil in his head.

"Going to get my whip," she pivoted, throwing him a smile. "I've got to teach you a lesson for smacking my butt in front of that reporter."

And with that she disappeared into the crowd of people, leaving Sam to sadly stare into his half empty mug of hot water.

"I thought that battle axe would never leave."

"Did you just call my Great Aunt Gretchen a battle axe?" asked Sam semi amused. He'd never heard anyone use that expression outside of TV before.

"Not Great Aunt Gretchen, she's adorable, I'm talking about Mercedes. She had been monopolizing you for far too long."

After Mercedes had left a stream of guests passed by his table handing out birthday wishes and the occasional hug, most were familiar faces, old family friends, distant relatives, and some business associates. Luckily no one stumped him mentioning facts he couldn't remember. His Great Aunt Gretchen stopped by staining his cheeks red with kisses, ruffling his hair, as she always did whenever he saw her. He was forever ten in her eyes, a gangly kid that used to visit her in Chicago with his mom. The last time he remembered seeing her was at his wedding to Brittany, she had stained his cheeks that day too.

Great Aunt Gretchen was 5'2" with snow colored hair, startling blue eyes and a crooked smile. She loved the Bears and cold beer, sipped through a straw. She was surly sweet, cursing like a sailor while she hugged you hard. Sam never thought much about his Polish side, his mother wasn't close with her relatives, and she wasn't immersed in her culture the way his father was, aside from Great Aunt Gretchen he hadn't spent much time with his mom's family at all. His mom often said Sam inherited his coloring from her side of the family, and when he looked at his great aunt the resemblance was indeed striking. Summers in Chicago with Mike and his mom, playing on the cement steps in front of her narrow green house. His playground had been the span of a few blocks, bounded by the corner store at one end and a basketball court at the other.

She was the closest he ever had to a grandmother, since both his father and mother's parents had passed away long before his birth. It was nice to hear her gushing about Beth, overjoyed to add another member to the family. She also went on about Mercedes calling her sweet as spun sugar and congratulating him on grabbing himself a little piece of sunshine. Apparently Mercedes had impressed her while he was in a coma, spending time with the woman by his bedside, learning how to knit. An odd mental picture, arts and crafts being done by his comatose body, but it also was comforting in a way. He had been surrounded by people in the hospital, they hadn't left him alone in a dark room to rot.

"We are sort of here together." He held up his hand, showing her his ring. "Marriage gives her the right to do that."

Sam looked at his ring so bold and silver on his finger, still feeling a bit foreign since he'd only had it on since this afternoon. It hit him, in a way it never really had before, he was married, not a sham, not some marriage of convenience, but really married because at some point he had wanted to be. As if beyond his control his thoughts drifted to Quinn, and all he had just learned. She had been almost been married twice, to his brother and his cousin, but somehow neither relationship panned out because of cheating. Sam still had a hard time believing that she could take commitment so cavalierly, when at one point fidelity was all she talked about. Who was he to judge? Wasn't he doing the same now? He had been thinking of his marriage to Mercedes as a problem, a prison sentence inflicted by his father, instead of a sacred act he had chosen to undertake. He hated that his brother was hurt by her, but he could understand how Quinn must have felt being involved with someone other than the man she wanted. Sam had been feeling like that for weeks. The difference was that if he had never lost his memory, he wouldn't be feeling this way. He would still want to be married to his wife.

"I know about your memory issues so no need to fake it with me. You don't give a damn about being married to Mercedes."

"Were you always this blunt?" he asked letting out a shocked laugh. No one had been this direct with him since he woke up. It was refreshing. "From what I recall you were a sweet little thing, always smiling, hanging out around the D&E offices with your dads. Now look at you."

"That sounds about right. Three years is a long time. Things change. I grew up."

So he kept hearing. And things had certainly changed for Ms. Berry. She always was a pretty girl, athletic and friendly, bounding around town singing loudly, but now she was downright gorgeous. Rachel had grown in all the right places, filling out her little blue dress to perfection.

"Are your dads here now? I can't remember seeing you many places without them."

She gave him a twisted smile. "Is that a dig at my once dateless status? Don't think I didn't know that everyone talked about me behind my back. Whispering that I was going to end up alone with a dozen cats. I'll have you know I'm currently involved. He's finishing up his residency now. Quite the catch," she beamed, clearly proud as she extolled her unnamed boyfriend's scholary successes.

"A doctor. Every girl's dream."

She slid into the seat that Mercedes had vacated, crossing her legs in an exaggerated movement.
"Not every girl, some of us like the corporate types."

"Is that how I got lucky enough to end up engaged to you?" asked Sam following the lines of her body with his eyes.

"That and you can be quite charming." She smiled flirtatiously. "All the interns had a crush on you."

"You were my intern?" Sam knew what that meant, eager young coeds, willing to do anything to keep the boss happy. Rachel looked like she would've worked overtime to be the best at her job and impress him.

"Wipe that smirk off your face," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "Nothing ever happened on top of your desk. The mailroom though..."

"The mailroom?" Oh yeah. Things were getting good. "That sounds intriguing did you lock me in there and have your way with me?"

"No Mercedes did. It was thanks to her we ended up together."

"That doesn't sound right. Mercedes told me she was jealous we were together."

He remembered the conversation vividly. Mercedes had got all weepy talking about being his consolation prize. Sam had immediately understood the degradation of spirit that came with being in the number two spot. Quinn had introduced it to him at a young age. Then Brittany reinforced the lesson when she pushed him aside for Santana and apparently it happened all over again when Quinn ended up with Mike. For the first time in all that he could remember, he was finally ranked number one for someone, Quinn had given him that honor just hours before as they held their daughter and planned a future. Sam should have known that was too good to be true, he would never elevate beyond loser status with her. How could Quinn claim she wanted to be with him when she couldn't even be honest?

"Over the top jealous, drove her insane, she tried all these plots to steal you away from me. None of them worked though."

Sam could relate, he'd been there, plotting ways to win back Brittany, and having them all blow up in his face. He could easily believe that one of Mercedes' plans had ultimately pushed him toward another woman. The same thing had happened to him. All of his plans to win back Brittany only made her hold tighter to Santana. Still it was sort of flattering to know that someone was willing to go through all that trouble just for the chance to be with him.

"I gotta ask then, how did I end up married to her and not you?"

Something must've worked in Mercedes' favor, they ended up a couple. Sam struggled to connect the dots of what he'd been told by Mercedes and what Rachel was telling him now. As always with his life of late, there seemed to be pieces missing. Mercedes had her definite charms, he could see how she would've been a temptation to him back then, but Sam wasn't the type to stray. Once he decided on a woman, he liked to settle down, and nurture the relationship. He dreamed of finding a woman he could build with, start a family and grow old by her side. Such an ordinary dream, easily achieved by most people, but it had seemed so far out of reach in his life.

"I couldn't handle the Evans lifestyle. All the secrets, the late night business meetings, the shady dealings, a bit much for this small town girl."

Most people were squeamish about the grayer side of life. He wasn't surprised at all to learn that Rachel had an issue with his family business. In fact, it was more surprising that she started a relationship with him at all. Sam figured her family would have quickly put an end to any involvement with him. Her dads were always so protective.

"I would ask you to fill me in, but I know you won't, no one ever does."

He would have to talk to his father about this, things must have gotten pretty cutthroat over the years. His family tended to be more discreet in their dealings, but Rachel seemed to know quite a bit about the dirtier side of D&E. Sam knew she wouldn't have learned that as an intern.

"Your lust for Cede caused a lot of chaos at D&E," she replied, without hesitation. "The girl tried to sabotage a business deal to get you into bed."

The scratches on his neck started to tingle, physically reminding him of how dirty Mercedes was willing to play. He liked it. There was something sexy about a woman that could hold her own with him, fight back, and give as good as she got. That wouldn't be enough to cause him to jeopardize his relationship though. He might have been intrigued, perhaps aroused, but he never would have gone there with Mercedes if he weren't single.

"Please tell me I didn't fall for that."

His instincts were really good. Sam staked most of his business decisions on them. He knew how to read people and anticipate their moves, but a few times since meeting Mercedes his instincts had failed him, misfiring, sending thoughts in divergent directions, causing him to question all that he knew about himself and his ability to make sound judgments. In the beginning he wasn't sure if Mercedes was a newfound friend, a nurse with a crush, or a gold digger out for a piece of the Evans fortune, any of those descriptions seemed to fit her. Drawing him in with those eyes and those lips, she said all the right things, and was there every time he needed her, but any good con artist could do the same. He was an easy target, confined to his bed, depressed and disorientated, she could have had her way with him and he would have been powerless to stop it. Yet he still continued to trust her, even after he learned of her deceptions and half-truths, repeatedly he let her back in. Mercedes had this way of getting his guard down, despite all his efforts to keep her on the outside.

"What do you think?" asked Rachel, her tone just this side of bored.

Sam could tell Mercedes was not her favorite topic, although she was the one that kept bringing her name up.

"Honestly, I don't know what to think. I can be ambitious, but mixing business with sex is not usually my style. Not to mention the fact we apparently were a couple at the time. I pride myself on being a one woman type guy," he said with almost a straight face.

It was hard to keep holding that position when he took his current actions into consideration. Since waking up he had been anything but a one woman man, even if it weren't entirely of his own volition. Like a romance novel, he was knee deep in a genuine love triangle, and if it didn't suck so much, he almost would've enjoyed it. Not every day that he had more than one woman legitimately interested in him.

"Proving yourself to your father was a big deal for you at the time. He had handed the company over to you, but still hadn't let go of the reins. I learned pretty quickly you'd do anything for D&E. It came before all else, especially me."

"Puck told me that I left D&E because of you."

"So you said, but that wasn't true, it couldn't have been. I think it was more about you wanting to exert your independence from your father, stand up to him."

Sam scratched his brow. "Even so, it was what you wanted right? I was away from the Evans lifestyle, so why didn't we work out?"

"You slept with Mercedes and lied about it."

There she was, once again getting in the middle of his life, blocking him from what he wanted, ruining his chances for happiness. He had been engaged to Rachel, he would assume happily, and somehow Mercedes had wiggled in and messed that up, just as she was doing now with Quinn. Only she wasn't. Sam mentally sighed, disgusted by his never ending thoughts about Quinn and their current pathetic state. Mercedes hadn't messed anything up for them, they had done it all to themselves.

"Puck said we weren't together when that happened."

"Puck would say that. He was engaged to Quinn while lusting after Santana," Rachel said bitterly.

"Sex during a break up isn't cheating," he said, reminding her of that distinction.

"No woman wants to find out that the man they love is sleeping with someone else. Especially not when it was with a woman he's been secretly wanting the whole time and certainly not when it is broadcast over the internet," she said with more than a hint of annoyance in her voice.

The problem he was having with this entire scenario was the idea that he would want another woman while being engaged. That just wasn't his style to be so divided. Yet it was twice now that he had been accused of wanting two women at the same time.

"Let me get this straight. I slept with Mercedes to secure a business deal, then I hid that from you?"

"You slept with Mercedes because she had some kind of hold over you. Repeatedly you tried to convince me that you hated her that you didn't want anything to do with her, and deep down I knew you were lying. I think if you could've gotten away with it you would have slept with Mercedes long before you did."

Terrible as it sounded this was coming to close to feeling like the truth. He didn't want to believe that he was capable of wanting two women at the same time, but the more he heard about his past, the more he knew it all could be true. In some ways he was living that truth now. If things had gone in his favor at the hospital with Mercedes, and last night at the hotel with Quinn, he would have slept with both women in a month's time, and as much as he wished he was disgusted by the idea, the reality was that he wasn't at all. Wanting to be with Quinn, finally telling her that, putting himself out there, hadn't lessened his attraction to Mercedes in the least. Sam had hoped that connecting with Quinn would put an end to his confusing emotions for his wife, but it hadn't, Mercedes was still there, in the way of all he wanted.

"You think I would've cheated on you?" he asked, interested in how Rachel viewed his character.

"I don't know Sam, I'd like to think that I had your whole heart, and you did make me feel very special. We had plans to move to Nashville, start over, and you seemed excited by that. But when it came out you had sex with Mercedes and I broke up with you, it didn't take any time at all for you to take up with her."

"Could have been rebound," he suggested. It was known to happen, letting off emotional steam with a safe third party. He had rebounded big time after the break up with Quinn, losing his virginity and then himself in every woman he could find.

"Don't you get it? We were the rebound. I was getting over my ex and you were getting over Quinn. As much as we loved each other, it wasn't enough, and now I can see it never would be."

Sam noted her wide watery brown eyes. "I can tell you still have some issues with all of this."

"Wouldn't you? Don't answer that because I know you would. You trashed your whole life because you saw Cede kissing Shane, one stupid kiss and you lost it."

"There was more to it than that." Sam squirmed, not wanting to get into this topic. Just like Quinn and Mike, his wife also had a secret man she tried to hide. Why did both women in his life think it was okay to lie to him?

"I know about the message. I'm the reason Shane never got it. You owe me one for that by the way."

"Why are we even talking about this?" Sam asked hoping to swing the subject in a new direction. He was still feeling too raw after his encounter with Quinn to dissect yet another time in his life when he was passed over for another guy. "I assume you've moved on since all this happened."

"It's hard to move on when the man you want hasn't. Shane is still in love with your wife, in case you're interested."

Sam paused thinking a moment. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Shane was part of the extreme wreckage that occurred in his life, but he didn't remember any of that stuff, yet even still he was starting to hate the guy the more he heard his name. So much of the crap that happened seemed to have Shane's fingerprints all over them. Did he care that another man was in love with his wife? The answer felt like no, but the longer he thought about it the more irritated he became, especially if that man were Shane Tinsley.

"So you and Shane?"

"It's always been me and Shane. Mercedes was barely with him and when she was, she still wanted you. Dumb slut acted like she was torn, but clearly she just craved attention."

Sam's defenses flew up at the change in Rachel's tone. There was a nasty clip whenever she mentioned Mercedes' name and it had gotten worse the longer they talked. It bothered him to hear Mercedes talked about in such negative terms.

"Now I get it. You hate Mercedes because you think she ruined things with us and for you and this Shane guy."

"I hate Mercedes because she's a selfish bitch that has conned everybody into thinking she's all sweet and innocent when really she's the biggest player in town. She had you so whipped you were almost unrecognizable. She must have magical fairy dust in her hoo-ha."

"Damn Rachel, you need to take it down a notch," he warned. "I think you need a drink. All this anger is going to break you down."

"Mercedes has ruined your life. Look at you, all stupid and confused. You can't even remember the basic facts of your recent past. You've forgotten all about our amazing sex and the popsicles."

"Did you say popsicles?" His interest was piqued.

"Yes Sam popsicles, cold and syrupy sweet the perfect treat after making love. We ate lots of popsicles."

She licked her lips, or maybe Sam imagined it, he couldn't be sure. His mind was flooded with images of popsicles and what could be done with that cold dessert treat. Why did his amnesia have to block out all the fun parts? Sex with Quinn, popsicles with Rachel, and he was sure Mercedes had tried some creative powers of persuasion in her attempts to get him into bed. Those were the memories he needed back now, damn all the rest.

"Wow," Sam grinned. "Not to keep repeating myself but tell me again why the hell we didn't end up together."

"You succumbed to the beast," she huffed.

"Mercedes?"

"Yes Mercedes! Haven't you been paying attention?"

"Sorry all I can think about is popsicles. What flavor exactly? I'm thinking…"

"Sam focus. I'm giving you sage advice here. After we broke up, if you had gotten back together with Quinn it would've made sense. Everyone in this town knew how you felt about her."

"I'm told she was with my brother or Puck or both." The popsicles had melted now, and he was back in the hell of Quinn and her exes.

"You didn't even try. You headed straight to Mercedes, something that I will never understand, and you paid a terrible price for that lunacy. Fate has intervened and now you have a chance to make things right with Quinn, don't blow it."

Shocked didn't begin to describe the way Sam was feeling as he sat across the table from Rachel Berry. She was the first and only person that had encouraged him to pursue his feelings for Quinn. For a moment he was bursting, finally he had an ally in his crazy dream for a new life, but he quickly deflated when he considered the source. Rachel hated his wife, clearly, and her acceptance of him in a relationship with Quinn probably had more to do with that hate than with her truly thinking things were meant to be with Quinn.

"Are you proposing I cheat on my wife?"

"Aren't you already? I saw the photo from the hotel Sam. I don't know what you're waiting for, kick her fat ass to the curb and go be with your child's mother. Better yet let me do it. I should have pounded her into the ground earlier but I had a stroke of pity for the weak and pathetic."

"You got into a fight with Mercedes today?" he asked, suddenly on edge.

"Not too long ago, right out in the foyer. Crazy witch started throwing her shoes at me, so I had to pop her. Rachel Berry don't play like that."

Sam put on a tight smile, trying to control his building temper. "Scary. By the looks of you I can tell you can hold your own."

This girl had been the one that made Mercedes bruised and skittish like a wounded animal. She had come to his room hollow and detached, her fiery spirit almost extinguished. It had killed him to see her so lifeless. He knew that the photo of him and Quinn at the hotel was part of it, and Sam was guilty about that, but now he knew the other part he was missing. That layer that he just couldn't understand. Rachel had done something to her, breaking her skin but something inside of her as well.

"Next time I won't be so nice," Rachel declared, flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder.

"There won't be a next time."

Rachel laughed, unaware that Sam was nowhere near amused. "I can guarantee that Cede will start flapping those gums again and I'll have to put her in her place."

"And I can guarantee if you do, you'll regret it." He leaned across the table, attempting to keep his voice low and his temper in check. "Keep your hands off my wife."

"Oh boy, I'm too late, she's already got her hooks into you again. I can't believe you're defending her after everything she's done to you."

"What happens between me and Mercedes is none of your business. You're the ex."

"Always so loyal, too bad your wife doesn't deserve it. You think she was faithful to you while you were laid up in a coma for months? Mercedes was messing around with Shane the whole time."

All talk, he didn't believe her. Mercedes had come clean about Shane and had assured him that her relationship with the man was a fleeting thing. His instincts could be off, they often were when it came to her, but he trusted that Mercedes was telling him the truth about all of her feelings. No woman had ever so openly declared her love for him before, perhaps he had forgotten other instances, but in the world that he knew there was only one certainty, Mercedes loved him. Every part of her screamed it, even when he fought vehemently to deny it, he could tell, it was always there, wrapped around her like an embrace. That was why it bothered him that he loved Quinn and not her, especially now. So many things were up in the air about Quinn, his love for her was still present, that would never change, but his faith in their prospects for a future was shaky. If only he could put all that love he felt for Quinn onto Mercedes his life might be a whole lot easier right now. For once he would know what it felt like to be with someone that loved him back.

"Why would I believe anything you say? It is easy to see you can't stand her."

"Don't believe me, look for yourself." She held up her cell phone, showing him a photo on the small screen. Sam grabbed it from her hand, examining it closer. It was Mercedes and Finn Hudson hugging. "Her latest conquest, and he's just her type, dumb enough to fall for her lines. Do yourself a favor and get out now. Don't let her embarrass you again with yet another man." She took her phone from his hand with a satisfied grin.

Rachel seemed to be enjoying his reaction to the news. Sam wasn't sure of the look on his face, but inside he was queasy. This was the second time he'd witnessed his wife in that guy's arms, and it still didn't get any easier to take. He was a hypocrite, he knew it, he'd done that and more with Quinn, but this was different, Mercedes wasn't supposed to be confused, she loved him. So why was she so close to Finn?

"Hey," said Sam looking up at Mercedes who had appeared at the table, arms crossed, frown on her face, shooting angry looks at Rachel.

"Hi, Mercedes," Rachel said cheerfully.

"I threw you out. What are you doing back here?" Mercedes asked her body language tense.

Sam rubbed her arm, hoping she'd relax, but she ignored him, maintaining her focus on Rachel.

"You didn't have the right to throw me out. Kurt invited me. Figgins had some needle and thread and look." She pushed out her chest in Mercedes' direction, flashing cleavage as well as a grin. "Good as new. Nothing was going to stop me from giving Sam his birthday gift tonight, that sweet little photo of you and Finn."

That did it. Mercedes lunged forward toward Rachel menacingly. Sam was sure it would come to blows, so he grabbed Mercedes by the waist and pulled her closer to him. "You know nothing's going on with me and Finn," Mercedes said pointing a finger at Rachel. If that finger were a gun, Rachel would be dead. "You're just trying to mess up my relationship because you're a bitter, lonely hag."

"I'm going to let that comment slide, because I can tell you are under extreme mental duress, deluding yourself into believing that you even have a relationship, when everyone here knows Sam would much rather be with Quinn."

Mercedes trembled beside him, he could tell it was taking all of her control not to lose it in the middle of the room.

"Actually Rachel, you couldn't be more wrong." Sam shifted and guided Mercedes to sit on his lap, adjusting her so she was cradled against his chest. "I'm exactly where I want to be. The more I learn about Mercedes the more I understand why I married her. I'm a lucky man," he said kissing her hand softly.

A smile spread on Mercedes' face as she looked at him and ran her hand through his hair as he noticed she often did whenever she was close.

"Thank you," she said, her eyes shining as she watched him.

Such a little nothing gesture and she made him feel like he saved the world, such adoration in her face. He returned her smile, his heart speeding up inexplicably.

"I need a bucket," Rachel said from across the table. Sam had forgotten she was still there, so lost in Mercedes and the emotions that played across her face. "You two are gross."

"Rachel thanks for keeping me company while I waited for my wife," he said politely. Short, to the point, and very insincere, Sam hoped Rachel would read between the lines and take that as her cue to leave.

"My pleasure," said Rachel rising from her seat. "Don't forget what I told you, seize the day and go after the woman you want."

"And you don't forget what I told you, touch her again and you'll be sorry."

"Ugh I hate that girl," Mercedes said when Rachel was gone. "Thanks for taking my side in front of her," she added softly.

"I've always got your back. The least I can do after everything you've done for me and Beth."

"That was nothing." She shrugged. "I take care of my family."

"So do I. Why didn't you tell me you were in a fight?" he asked pushing the hair from her face.

"I didn't think you would you care."

"You scared the crap out of me when you came in my room. I was ready to kill Finn when I saw you all banged up."

"It's like I told you before, Finn wouldn't hurt me."

"How well do you know Finn?" he asked, thinking about that photo. He wasn't going to bring it up, not after the photo hell he'd put her through tonight, but his curiosity was raised. He wanted to know more about what was going on between the two of them.

"Not very. We have newly become friends."

"That's right, bonding over broken hearts," Sam said hoping his voice didn't betray the contempt he felt. He was trying not to act like a jealous bastard over some kid that wasn't even worth his time.

"Yeah. He's a good listener, and lord knows I've had tons to say lately."

"Because of me?" he asked, already knowing the answer, everything she felt reflected in her face.

"You are my heaven and hell," she said.

Sam leaned back in his seat, releasing his hold on her waist. He felt those words powerfully on his chest. That was what Quinn was for him, heaven and hell existing in the same woman. It hurt to be compelled toward her light, when he knew she had the power to burn him with every touch. He didn't want to be that person for Mercedes. He didn't want his presence in her life to cause pain.

Sam needed to back away from her, so young, and uniquely beautiful, he needed to set her free and pray she never looked back. Instead he gathered her against him, pressing kisses into her hair, soaking up all her softness, letting it surround him, stealing the hug he desperately needed. She was the closest thing to heaven in his life right now, and he clung to it with everything in him. Twisting in his arms she moved closer, holding him tighter, rubbing his back, his neck, his hair. It was like she knew he needed to be close to her, and she willingly fulfilled that need.

He hadn't been lying to Rachel earlier, the more he was around Mercedes, the more he understood her place in his life, then and now. As much as she deserved better than to be with such a confused and emotional wreck, he just couldn't let her go, not when she had this way of making him feel so calm in the midst of his unrest. Squelching the urge to scoop her up and ferret her out of the room away from the party where he could privately lose himself in her touch, let her sweetness overtake all the bitterness and pain that Quinn had placed on him with her lies, he relaxed into her arms. Far too selfish of him to indulge such impulses, Mercedes was too young to be used in that way, and experience had taught him that pain resurfaced, even when topped with a coating of sweet.

"Thank you for that," he said, feeling embarrassed that he had accosted her in a room full of strangers. "I sort of needed it."

"Me too," she said as she slid off his lap and moved to the chair opposite him.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked taking her hand and holding it across the table. He had liked having her close and he wasn't quite ready to lose that contact. It was the only thing that was keeping him afloat at the moment.

"My husband's upset about another woman." She dropped her eyes to their intertwined hands. "And my heart breaks a little more every time I look at him and see the sadness in his eyes," She looked up at him with sad, tear filled eyes. "I know none of that emotion is about me and it hurts even more."

Sam gripped her hand tighter, feeling her trying to pull away. "I'm so sorry Mercedes. I don't want to hurt you."

"What happened?"

"Isn't this breaking one of our rules?" Sam asked wanting to sidestep the question. He didn't want to talk about Quinn, especially not with her.

"That rule went out the window when you started yelling her name in the middle of the party."

He groaned. "God you heard that?"

He was the one to let go, resting both hands on his forehead. He didn't want any of this to involve her, though he could see now what a completely foolish thought that was, everything in his life involved her, especially Quinn.

"Everyone did. So are you going to tell me why you're so upset?"

"Ever wish you could change your life, like maybe make a wish and things would snap into place perfectly?"

Did she look at him like this when he was engaged to Rachel, like his every word was important, like his presence meant everything to her? No wonder he couldn't run from that attraction and he let his weakness win out. She made him feel incredible and strong. She made him feel like he mattered. His whole life had been about never measuring up. Never deemed quite worthy enough to gain favor in his father's eyes, or Quinn's, or even Brittany's, someone else always bested him, showed him up, and stole what he worked so hard to achieve. To be number one in someone's eyes, loved and respected, cherished and wanted above all others, that was his ultimate dream, a wish that never had a chance to come true. Then he opened his eyes and saw her and suddenly that dream seemed very possible.

Ironically now that he thought about it, Mercedes' support and open admiration had given him the courage to pursue Quinn. Instead of letting his feelings about second chances with Quinn fester and remain in his fantasies, he found the courage to go for it, to surge ahead and tell her all that was in his heart. He might never have done that without Mercedes, and those looks she gave him, making him feel like a hero, like someone worthwhile. If one nurse could see all that in him, then maybe Quinn could too. Fate had brought him back to Quinn, he felt so certain of that, and Mercedes in a way was the harbinger of that message, his little angel that nursed him body and soul. Now he couldn't help but wonder if he had somehow misinterpreted the signs, misread the miracle, because love shouldn't hurt like this, not when fate had intervened and lighted the stars to guide them toward another chance. Maybe Great Aunt Gretchen had been right when she told him to hang onto his sunshine, because every time things had gotten so dark since he came out of the coma, Mercedes was right there pulling him back toward the light. That had to mean something.

"Every day I make that wish," she said.

"I made that wish tonight," said Sam getting up to stand in front of her.

He offered his hand in the hopes that she would take it, and she did, reluctantly allowing him to pull her from his seat. Arms around her waist, head against hers, he tried to block all the sounds of the party and the people and focus on her. He closed his eyes and took a breath, shoving every thought about Quinn to the background. For a little while he wanted to experience life with just her, no conflict, no confusion, just the relationship that everyone told him he used to have with her. Hiding from his feelings, taking refuge in her, was cowardly and deplorable, Sam knew he should find some other way to manage his pain, but the draw toward her was too great, and he was so tired of fighting tonight.

"Seems like you picked a pretty good time for wishing, since it is your birthday, I hear you have a good chance of it coming true," she laughed lightly. "Did you wish to work out whatever is wrong between you and Quinn?" she asked tentatively, tearing up with the question, though her smile never dropped.

"Nope," he said feeling like he was walking off a cliff, exhilarated and nervous at once. He was letting it be about her, for the first time. He was giving into all that he had tried to hide, and it terrified him. "I wished for you," he admitted.

"For me?" she asked leaning back, opening up their cocoon.

"Yeah, for us, for our marriage, I want to remember loving you and being with you. All I want right now is our happiness back."

Mercedes dropped her arms from around his neck and shoved him backward. "You hateful bastard!" she snapped. "I can't believe you said that."

Sam's heart sank and disappointment set in, that was not the reaction he was hoping for. Had she really meant it when she told him she didn't want him earlier, that he was the wrong Sam and not good enough for her? He had suspected it was only the pain talking, that deep down she still was willing to try with him. She said she would wait for him to remember. Were those just words?

Had Mercedes been lying to him too?
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