Brittany (cont.)

She gets up and offers her hand to me. I take it and I stand up, wincing when I put my right foot on the floor. I almost forgot about it. She stops moving.

"How is your foot?"

I try to put more pressure on it. "It's better, I think I can walk on it now."

And just to show I can, I walk unassisted to the kitchen and start to take out the things we'll need. She stops me and motions towards the chair.

"You sit down, I'll cook."

I let out a breath. "I want to help."

She puts her hands on my shoulders and makes me sit down. "Tell you what: I'll bring the ingredients over, you can make the batter. Deal?"

I nod and smile. After I have everything in front of me, I carefully measure out the ingredients and mix the batter in the big bowl. I am very aware of Santana sitting next to me with a cup of coffee. We are silent, and I know what's coming after the pancakes and although I'm not ready for it, I know it's time.

When they are all ready and we are sitting at the table, I lift my fork to dig in, but something feels wrong. It makes a loud sound as I set it next to my plate, and I see Santana stare intently at me. I bite my lip and the words escape me.

"I'm sorry."

She puts down her bite and I see her hands dash under the table to her lap. I know she's wringing her wrists.

"What are you sorry for?"

I shrug and make this circling motion with my hand. "Everything, I suppose. I'm sorry I snapped at you on the phone, I'm sorry you're here taking care of me because I'm – I'm like this, I'm sorry I came back and disrupted your life and mostly I'm sorry I walked out of your life like I did."

I didn't mean to just drop it all in one breath, but there it is. She lifts her eyebrows and nods a few times. Her whole face is just sadness.

"That's… pretty much everything, yeah, you were right. But can we talk about it one thing at a time?"

I nod, so she keeps talking. "I'm not gonna lie – I can never do that with you – it did hurt when you yelled at me on the phone, I didn't understand what was happening. But, I got a call later that day that surprised me, a lot and helped me make sense of it all."

Damn Quinn. I thought she could keep this a secret! "Who was it?"

She smiles a little, like what she's gonna say is totally crazy. "Abby."

What? "Wait, what? Why did my sister call you?"

She shrugs. "She kept calling your phone and you never answered and she called the school and the principal gave her my number cause Abby said we knew each other." She's looking at me in that searching way again. "She told me about your parents."

My eyes fill again and I shake my head. I can't talk about this. I try to sit up, but before I can, she comes right next to me with her chair and pulls me back down. She is now just inches away from me, and she is holding my hands in hers.

"Don't close up, Britt. Let yourself feel it." She's squeezing my hands and I can feel the intensity coming off her, and so I let out the breath I've been holding and cry. Loud and dry sobs. I squeeze her hands back and I let all my tears go. When I feel like I can talk again, I wipe my eyes and I clear my throat. I can't look at anything but our entangled hands.

"I feel silly for getting like this, I know most parents get divorced but I just never thought it would happen to mine. Especially after so long. I thought I wouldn't have to go through this at this point in my life."

Her thumbs are making those little circles and I concentrate on their movements as I hear her voice. "It's not silly. You're allowed to feel like this. And you know as much as it hurts to admit this, your parents are only human and they make mistakes, too. You know they love you and Abby and they love each other, but they just weren't happy anymore."

I bite my lip. "I don't want to lose my parents."

"You won't. This is just something you'll have to get used to. Abby says they're still doing Christmas and holidays together, all four of you, so you see they're trying."

"I don't know how to stop feeling empty."

She takes a moment and lifts my chin so I'm looking at her. Her brown eyes are enveloping me in a cloud.

"This thing isn't just about your parents, and I think we both have been trying to ignore it. We can't do that anymore."

I don't know what to say, so I just inch closer to her. She breaks our stare to close her eyes for a moment. When she opens them up again, her voice is a lot more controlled. "You also said you were sorry you made me come take care of you. That's not true. I came because after talking to Abby, I called Quinn and when she found out I knew about your parents, she told me what Sam and her had been doing, and that they weren't getting through to you, and I thought I'd try. You didn't make me come here, I came because I wanted to and if things were different, I'd still come to help you, Britt, you know that."

I force my voice out, because my throat feels very tight. "I don't deserve it, though. After all I did – I"

She shakes her head. "Don't think like that. We all deserve to have people who care about us."

I can't hold her hands anymore, it's too much. I let go of her and let my forehead rest on my palms as I lean forward. "Why are you not mad at me?"

"I spent close to ten years imagining seeing you again and thinking I'd be so mad I'd either strangle you or yell at you until my voice gave out. But really, I'm not mad. I just want to understand. You hurt me, like no one's ever done it, because you knew exactly what to do that would damage me. And I never knew why."

I know she's crying, and I'm crying too. I don't want to, but I know I have to look up. And I see her eyes, raw and filled with the past. I take a deep breath.

"Do you remember Puck's Superbowl party our senior year?" I see her nod in confusion. "Well, that day while you were watching the game with Puck and the others in the basement, I got bored during the second quarter and I went out to try and buy some sweets. When I got to the gas station, there was this older woman in front of the store sitting on the bench. I bought my sweets and sat down next to her. She was upset or angry, so I offered her some of my sour patch kids. She said her husband would come pick her up shortly, cause he was probably out doing whatever he wanted while she waited like an idiot. She told me they had been together since high school and that she was so in love that she followed him across the country when they graduated because he wanted to come east and have a shrimping boat. He got his boat, then he got more and he became very successful and she was a housewife and had his kids. She always wanted to be a chef and have a restaurant, but because she loved him so much, she never said anything and was content being by his side. This woman sounded so bitter, and when the husband showed up, she turned to me and told me 'never let your loved one be the center of your universe. You must be the center of your universe.' And then she left."

I take a deep breath. I can see Santana is following my story, but her mind is racing with a million things. Before she can say anything, I continue talking because I need to get it all out.

"I thought about what she said the entire way back to Puck's and I realized that I always saw myself as your girlfriend first. And that everything I did was with your – and our – wellbeing in mind. And that maybe unintentionally I had let some chances pass to do something that I wanted to do, like go to that ballet clinic one summer because I had promised we'd go to cheerleading camp together. And it's not like I didn't want to do those things for us, it's just that I realized that everything was for us, or for you, but not just for me. And it freaked me out. So that's when I started looking at dance programs for after graduation. And when the Sidney thing came along, I jumped at the chance. I know I was being selfish, but I thought I had to."

She is crying harder now, and I know I am too. "Why didn't you tell me any of this? Was I so overbearing that I didn't let you speak your mind?"

I shake my head and take her hand in mine. "No, nothing like that. I always could tell you things I couldn't tell anyone and I was never scared you'd think I was… dumb or stupid like everyone else thought. But I thought that if I told you, I'd hurt your feelings or that I'd have second thoughts and not go through with it. And part of me wanted to just solve one problem without running to you, because I didn't want you to help make this decision, I wanted to do it myself. I know now that I should've said something, and I truly regret that I didn't, but at the time it felt like the right thing to do. Like I needed to do this all on my own without talking about it with you or with anyone else."

"I think I would've understood anyway if you'd explain it like that."

I bite my lip, because I know this. "I know. But it's hard to try and explain my train of thought at the moment, I just thought running away was better when it wasn't. I thought a broken heart was cleaner than just staying in limbo and not knowing what would happen."

She stands up and starts pacing around the apartment. I sit and stare at her feet as she moves. I fall silent until she sits back down in front of me. She shuts her eyes tightly. "There's no point in discussing why I think that was wrong, but I guess the logical part of me understands your way of thinking, even if I don't like it or don't agree with it. But why did you leave for so long? Why did – did you leave – me?"

Her voice breaks as the tears come freely. She wipes them away and looks away from me. I want to reach out and touch her, comfort her. But I fear she'll pull away and that would break me even more, so I just lean forward.

"You were always bigger than Lima, bigger than anyone there. And I didn't want to hold you back from anything. I thought the way we left things that day at your house was the best way to part. And it hurt. Every day for the last 10 years, my heart ached. But it wasn't fair to you or to me to try and stay together when we weren't even in the same time zone. I know we would've tried our best and it would've destroyed us in the long run. Santana, I know this sounds awful, but I don't regret leaving and dancing all over the world. The only thing I regret is how I left, and how I left you. And for that, I am truly sorry. I know it takes more than just the words to deserve your forgiveness, but I'm here to try and earn it."

I let out a really long breath. Finally it's out there. I'm now holding her hand, and I'm looking at her, but she's looking down and crying silently. At least she didn't pull back. The silence hangs above us for quite a while, and I urge her with all my heart to break it, but it takes her a long time.

"Thank you for being honest with me. I can't really – I don't know what to say, I guess I need to think about everything you just said."

I nod and mutter 'of course' but I'm not sure she hears me, because she keeps talking.

"I don't want to drive right now, so um, this is gonna sound super weird but can I take a shower?"

Ok, on my mental list of things she might say when I finally tell her the truth, that one was definitely not on the list. Still, I nod.

"Sure."

She squeezes my hand one last time and disappears into my bedroom. After I hear the shower turn on, I look down at the pancakes. They are now ice cold, but I take a bite anyway. They taste great, because they taste like relief.

Santana

After taking a long shower at Brittany's where she mainly cried and stood under the warm water, Santana hurried out of the apartment with a curt "See you."

Santana wasn't scared that Brittany would lapse back into her previous state, she knew that the blonde would take a breath and slowly return to her normal routine now that they'd cleared the air. She drove home way under the speed limit stopping only to buy a pack of cigarettes. She hadn't smoked in a few years, but damn, she needed them right now. When she got home she texted Quinn to say she'd pick up Sophia on Sunday, she grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and walked out to her balcony. It was a crisp afternoon and she kicked off her shoes as the first cigarette touched her lips. Santana inhaled slowly, feeling the smoke going through her throat and back out in little puffs. Tears were coming down, but she was calm, almost like in a trance. She noticed everything around her: The trees changing colors, the clouds in the horizon threatening rain, the faint sounds of people going about their day around the neighborhood. She looked down into her backyard and started counting the planks in the fence. A second cigarette, and 36 planks and counting. She noticed some of Sophia's toys in the sandbox and made a mental note to pick them up later. When she finished counting planks, she opened the bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. Cigarette number three, a slight clearing of her throat, and glass number one. She threw her head back and closed her eyes. Brittany was there, laughing. Santana quickly opened her eyes and drew a sharp breath. She had heard the laughter clearly, and it made her pulse quicken. The glass started to rattle in her hand, so she put it back down and started opening and closing her fist to calm herself.

She was afraid to blink even, just in case the blonde was still there, behind her eyelids. She felt restless but frozen in place at the same time. Her abuela's voice came drifting from afar, saying cuenta tus bendiciones primero, Tanita. It was the same thing she always said when Santana was feeling overwhelmed – even at five years old when a 200 piece puzzle proved too difficult for her – and so she closed her eyes, like she always did, and started counting the blessings in her life. First and foremost would always be Sophia. It had been this way since she had held her in her arms at the hospital. So Santana spoke in clear voice, ignoring the occasional break in her tone from the tears as she counted with her fingers. "Sophia, Mamá, Abuela, amazing friends, my godsons, a job I love, a house of my own, no mortgage, my music – and" She took a breath as she realized what her brain was telling her to say. So she added in a whisper "Brittany." And she broke down in tears. Santana allowed the loud racking sobs to take over and she hugged her knees as she sobbed and released all the pent up anger, sadness, resentment and fear she had built up over the last ten years. When her throat felt raw and she noticed there were no more tears in her swollen eyes, she walked into her bathroom, splashed water on her face and went back outside. The sun was setting now, so as everything turned dark around her, she lit up another cigarette and finished the glass of wine. It was time to think of what to do next.

Brittany

It's been five days since Santana left and I don't know what to do with myself. No, let me explain that better: I can't stand not knowing what's gonna happen. But I guess it's fair since that's how I left things so long ago. The first thing I did was call Sam and Quinn and thanked them for what they did for me. We agreed to meet for dinner on Saturday. I focus on trying to find the right space for my dance studio, talking to my old dancing friends to see who is in town, who knows someone who can help me and all that. I also called my mom for the first time since she visited. She's doing better, and asks me to come home for Abby's birthday and Christmas and I promise that I will. The second day after Santana left, I woke up practically dancing in bed. It was the first time that had happened in months. So I spent two days perfecting a routine. It feels good to dance again, to want to dance again. Day five arrives, and I'm back from the grocery store putting stuff away when my phone rings. I pick up without noticing who's calling because my hands are full of potatoes. I cradle the phone with my shoulder and I almost drop everything when I hear Santana say hi.

Um, hi, San.

Is this a bad time?

No, no, I was just putting some groceries away.

I hope it's not all Captain Crunch and frozen meals.

I chuckle as I hear her do the same on the other end.

Not all of it, I have some actual vegetables and fruits this time, promise.

So, um, I was wondering if you were busy later? Maybe we could go for a walk?

Sure, I mean, no, - I take a deep breath – I'm not busy. A walk sounds great.

Ok, I'll come by your place around 4, alright?

Yeah, see you then.

Bye.

I let the phone fall as I digest this new information. Santana wants to see me. She sounded very distant and awkward, but I guess that's understandable given the situation. I decide to take a shower to calm myself down. I realize a walk doesn't equal forgiveness, but maybe now she's ready to talk some more. I see it as a good sign.

Four o' clock comes around and I am practically jumping at every noise coming from outside. She texts me to say she's here, so I walk down. I need to stop myself from running because I know I need to appear calm. When I see her leaning on her car, twisting and untwisting her ankles, she smiles a faint smile and I wave as I approach her. Do we hug? I guess we don't, since when I'm close enough she stands up straight and gives my hand a squeeze as she motions for me to follow her. We walk for a bit before she turns her head around to look at me.

"You look better Britt."

I smile, shrug and say thanks. "I've been showering more often."

She laughs and kind of pokes me with her elbow. The air kind of relaxes and we walk in comfortable silence towards the park near my house. After a while she takes my elbow and rests her hand there, like she used to do. We reach a bench that overlooks a small lake and sit down. She takes her arm back and puts her hands in her pockets as she crosses her legs and leans back. I mimic her relaxed stance even though I really want to be running around and jumping to release all the energy I have right now. I wait for her to say something, and I don't have to wait too long.

"I never hated you. Even though everyone thought I should."

I only nod and work on not letting my tears fall. I know she needs to talk. She continues in a sort of monotone voice.

"I wondered for a long time why I didn't hate you, and I guess it's because part of me knew why you did it already, even if I didn't want to admit it. It wasn't until five days ago that I finally understood that part of me. People always say that there's a fine line between love and hate, but I never really fell for that. I think sometimes we mistake love for hate because we aren't ready for it. And the truth is that it was always very clear to me since we first kissed that I loved you."

She turns to me, and there's not a single tear in sight. I see the control in her, and I bite my lip, allowing her to finish whatever she practiced on saying.

"Even when you weren't here, you were still a big part of my life and of every decision I made. I learned to quiet your voice in my head, but it was always there. Even Sophia sort of came because of you."

What? "What?"

She straightens up a bit and clears her throat. I have to strain to listen to her because her voice seems like it's coming from very far away.

"It was senior year of college, beginning of March. I was feeling very melancholic I guess because it had been exactly 6 years since I first told you that I loved you. I was visiting Quinn at Yale that week as I did each year. We were at her sorority house and everyone was going to this frat party. I wanted to just stay and watch movies with Q, but she insisted I needed to get out of the room. We got to the party and it was just like any other frat party I had been to, guys drunk playing stupid games and girls pretending not to notice said boys looking at them. Since I was out anyway, I decided to drink and boy did I drink… About an hour after we got there, some random dude groped Quinn's ass, she slapped him and left. I didn't notice she was gone until much later, but I was so drunk I didn't care anymore."

She shifts and spends a moment looking at the water. If this is going the way I think it is, I don't want to hear it. So I need to ask something.

"Santana, did someone – " She shakes her head and puts her hand over mine and squeezes.

"No, nothing like that." I exhale and she continues. "As I said, I was drunk and just wanted to stop thinking. So I went to the backyard where everyone was dancing. I saw a girl in a corner I thought was cute and I started dancing towards her. It got pretty heated and she kissed me, and I let her. I hadn't really kissed anyone in a long time, so I enjoyed it. When she told me if I wanted to go somewhere else, I realized it wasn't a girl at all, it was a guy. But he was so pretty that I didn't care, so I followed him into the bathroom."

She puts her head in her hands and lets out a hollow laugh. "I can't even remember if I enjoyed it or even if we locked the door. All I know is that I left the party shortly after and woke up in Quinn's bed with a bucket next to me on the floor. I hadn't had a hangover like that since Rachel and Quinn's wedding a year before, when Puck and I drank about 10 thousand pitchers of margaritas. A few months later, I found out I was pregnant. It scared the shit out of me, Britt. I couldn't remember this guy's name or what he looked like, so I went and got tested for STDs and everything, and I came back clean. I'll be honest with you, I wasn't sure if I was gonna be able to go through with the pregnancy. But around that time Quinn confided in me that she and Rachel were thinking about having kids, Q's egg implanted in Rachel. They had started the process already and were very excited. I felt it was a sort of sign, like I wouldn't go through this alone, and this baby would have a semblance of a family. When Sophia was born, I knew I had made the right call. The twins were born about 6 months afterward and they're all inseparable."

I don't know where to start. So I say the first thing that comes to mind. "Did you ever try to find the father?"

She shakes her head. "No, I told you, I couldn't pick him out of a line up if I wanted to. And it's better this way, there are enough parental figures in Sophia's life. I don't know how I'm going to explain this to her when she's older, but I would never lie or try to hide the truth from her."

She turns towards me, and I see her eyes are glazed, but still no tears are coming.

"So you see Britt, you've stayed with me throughout all these years even when I didn't want you to because it hurt too much. To have you back in my life now is something I never allowed myself to dream about. But I trust in fate and how things happen for a reason. Sophia taught me that. I don't know where we go from here, but I need to know that you won't check out on me again, because I don't think I can go through this all over again. It's the only thing I ask for. Don't shut me out again, please."

Tears are flowing down my cheeks, but I don't break our gaze. I clear my throat. "I didn't come back only to leave again, Santana. I don't know what will happen with us now, but I don't want to be out of your life again. It's gonna take me a lot to earn your trusts back, and I know and accept that. But I want you to know that I'm here. It took me a long time to realize where I wanted to be and who I was, but I'm here now. I promise."

I lean forward and we hug. And it's electric, as it was before. I can feel her walls crumbling, and I feel my heart growing like the Grinch's at the end of the movie. And I know I'll do whatever is in my power to not make her cry ever again. Unless they're happy tears.