Happy Wednesday my loves!

I can't thank you enough for your kind comments on the first chapter. I hope you'll enjoy this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it (so close to the end now!)

Thanks to Christine for her always useful and valuable corrections, and Sofi for the cheering.

This chapter's song is Love Too Much.

Enjoy!

And our purest dreams

Steal something from our lives

They can only live

Because something else dies

But they lift us up

And they make us walk so tall

Got it all, got it all, got it all

Kurt dropped the keys on the side table at the foyer with a sigh. He inspected his shirt: he hadn't even noticed he had splashed the coffee over himself too until he was halfway home. He had been quite distracted with the stranger's face to realize he had almost ruined his favorite Dolce & Gabbana (the blue one with the logo and the crowns all over it, the one Ian had said matched his eyes perfectly). But he hoped he would be able to save it: it wasn't as stained as the other man's shirt had been.

He had looked almost deranged, Kurt thought. And not in a scary, unattractive way, but more like he had just witnessed a horrible accident and couldn't erase the images from his mind. Aside from that, he had been cute (Kurt was allowed to notice if a guy was cute, even if he had been married for eight years already. Noticing wasn't cheating), and Kurt had almost accepted his offer to get him a new cup of coffee, but the truth was that he didn't make it a habit to have coffee with strangers, even ones who were very cute.

Specially ones who were very cute.

After treating the stain, Kurt walked shirtless to the master bedroom, already thinking about what was next on his to-do list. He could start preparing dinner – Ian was going to be home soon – or he could sit in front of the computer for another half an hour and see if his next book actually went somewhere…

As he stared at the row of shirts in his closet, Kurt suddenly realized that he was bored.

And it wasn't a there's-nothing-to-watch-on-TV kind of bored. It was a deep sensation rooted inside of him. He was bored with his life, which once again felt like he was complaining, like he was not appreciating everything he was lucky enough to have. But they were stuck in a rut, even if the rut was taking place in a pretty impressive apartment in Manhattan, where Kurt was alone most of the time. Ian spent most of his time at the office, and it wasn't unusual for him to go in even on the weekends, when something unexpected came up.

He had told Ian they needed a vacation. Nothing huge, just a couple of weeks together and away from all the responsibilities they had in the city, but Ian kept putting it off. He didn't seem to feel as Kurt did, and there wasn't a single thing about their life that he wanted to change.

Just as he was standing there, still looking at his shirts as if they held the answer to every question he had ever had, he heard the sound of the front door and Ian's usual "Honey, I'm home!"

"In the bedroom!" Kurt replied distractedly.

Ian walked in not too long later, and he smiled. "Well, when you said you were in the bedroom, I half expected you to be naked, not going to lie. That would have been an enticing surprise…"

Kurt arched an eyebrow at him playfully. "Oh yeah? Give me three seconds and I'll get out of these pants, too…"

Ian kissed the back of his naked shoulder on his way to his own side of the closet. He started going through his shirts. "Can I get a raincheck? I have to go out again."

Kurt's playfulness vanished as quickly as it had arisen. "Why? I thought we were going to have dinner."

"Me too, but we're trying to get this really prestigious author to sign a contract for five books with us, and there are other publishing houses trying to get him to sign, too, so we need to wine and dine him and make him feel damn special," Ian sighed. "I just came home to change."

Kurt sighed, too, sounding a lot more frustrated than his husband, and for a moment considered arguing about it, but knew there was no use. Ian wasn't going to cancel on his big author just to stay home and have chicken marinara with Kurt. "Fine. But if you get him to sign, the fat and juicy check you get for it will be to take me on vacation, mister. I'm not taking no for an answer this time."

Ian laughed as he finished buttoning up his shirt and came towards him. He kissed Kurt's cheek. "Sure. See you later. Don't wait up!"

And he was gone as quickly as he had arrived.

Kurt was still standing shirtless in front of the closet. His night had derailed before he could even decide what to do with it.

He grabbed a random shirt, not really caring anymore, and went into the living room. He dropped down on the couch and called his best friend – maybe Rachel was free to entertain him. Or at least she would talk about herself long enough to distract Kurt from feeling miserable for no logical reason whatsoever.

She picked up on the second ring. Her voice was frantic. "Hello? Kurt?"

"Hey Rach," he said. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh god, no," she murmured. She sounded as miserable as he felt, but apparently she had an actual reason to. "Camden has had a fever all day. I even called sick at the theatre, they had to get my understudy to cover for me for the very first time in a year. But he's been crying non-stop and I'm kinda freaking out…"

"Poor angel," Kurt said with a slight coo. "Did you talk to his doctor?"

"Yes. She said it's nothing to worry about, and she gave us some tips, but…" She spoke away from the phone now, in a voice that tried to sound calming but actually came out as highly stressed. "Ssh, it's okay, baby boy. Momma's here…"

"Do you need anything?" Kurt asked. He could at least make himself useful. "I can stop by the pharmacy, pick up a few things…"

"Jesse's on a pharmacy run right now," Rachel replied. "We have it under control, it's just… I hate seeing Cam like this. I don't know how to soothe him. I feel like a terrible mom."

"Please, Rachel," Kurt practically scoffed. "You're a great mom. You finally have another human being in your life you care more about than yourself. You gave up playing Evita because you just found out you were pregnant, remember? You wouldn't have done that for anyone else…"

Rachel let out an exhale. "You're right. Thanks, Kurt." There was a sound in the background. "Oh, Jesse's here. I gotta go, Kurt. I'll call you this weekend…"

She was gone before Kurt could say another word. Not that he blamed her, though. She clearly had her hands full.

He stared at his phone for a moment, trying to think of what to do now. He could call Santana, but that would have probably been a bad idea. She was very pregnant and very irritable lately, especially since she'd had permanent morning sickness at all hours of the day for the past three months. All she wanted was to be home with her wife, and Kurt couldn't really blame her…

He thought of calling Mercedes, but that would have been pointless as well, since she was on tour. He couldn't even remember where in the world she was today: she could be anywhere. All of his friends had become varying degrees of successful since they had graduated high school, something that made Kurt feel very proud. They had all been insufferable overachievers, even while they were growing up in Lima, Ohio. It was nice to see that hard work paid off.

But there was still a little sinking feeling inside of him that he didn't like at all. Whenever he saw Rachel or Brittany and Santana, he looked at their lives and realized they had everything he had ever dreamed of and somehow had denied himself. It wasn't just about their careers, which were all in the entertainment business (Rachel was on Broadway, Brittany was a dancer and Santana had done everything from modeling to performing in the past few years), but it was their families that he envied, which he reluctantly admitted, at least to himself.

Brittany and Santana were expecting their second child, Rachel had Camden. Whenever they got together, Kurt fell right into his part of Uncle Kurt, and bought them presents and spoiled them rotten. He sat on the floor to play with them and could listen to them for hours while they babbled nonsense at him. He loved them.

He was always sad when they parted ways and Kurt had to go to his big apartment devoid of children's laughter and toys, of tiny little socks mixed in the laundry and spoon airplanes that resulted in giggles…

But Ian would never change his mind.

Had he given up too much? Had Kurt sacrificed too much? He loved Ian – sure, maybe not as ardently or as madly as he had loved him once, but that was normal, right? Love tended to get quieter with age, he told himself.

There was no point in asking himself these questions. He had chosen this life years ago.

And yet there was a tiny little knot inside of him that seemed to make it hard to breathe. He wondered if that was what regret felt like, but then told himself it didn't matter.

There was no going back.

If Cooper Anderson thought there was anything weird about his brother asking him to join him for lunch in the middle of the week, he didn't say it. Blaine sat across from him at the table in a small café halfway between their apartments and picked at his salad while Cooper rambled on and on and on about…

Well, Blaine wasn't sure what he was rambling about, actually. He had stopped listening even before the waitress had taken their orders.

He had been in a sort of trance for the past three days, like there was a constant buzzing in his head that didn't let him concentrate on even the easiest, most trivial things. He had put one of Theo's red socks in the washing machine with Jack's white robes and turned them pink. He had packed lunch for Lena yesterday, only for her teacher to call him at noon and let him know he had only put one grape and a stapler in her lunch box. He had been a mess in class. He had…

Well, those were enough examples. He was just all over the place.

It was a miracle he hadn't been run over by a cab, he was so distracted.

He stabbed a lettuce a little more forcefully than necessary and told himself to pay attention to his brother.

"… so I booked us a couple's massage," Cooper was saying, and Blaine certainly hoped Cooper was talking about his wife, Brianna, or he would start truly believing that all men were cheating pigs. "I mean, I think it's the perfect thing right now. She's been so stressed at work and it'll give us a chance to just focus on ourselves. Her birthday is coming up, too, so I was thinking…"

"I think my husband is having an affair," Blaine blurted out, out of nowhere.

Cooper stopped talking mid-sentence and, very carefully, put down his fork. His blue eyes were wide and fixed on Blaine, like he had grown an extra head. "What?"

"I think Jack is cheating on me," Blaine said, as if changing the phrasing would make it easier to digest.

It didn't. The little salad he had managed to eat seemed to make his stomach churn.

Cooper blinked. "Okay…" he said very slowly, as if he was talking to a tiny animal that he was worried he would spook. "What exactly makes you think that?"

"I saw a couple of text messages on his phone, from this guy named Eddie," Blaine explained. "They were… kind of obvious."

Cooper blinked, like he was processing what he had just heard. If he did that for three more days and started questioning everything he thought he had known about his life, maybe he would be where Blaine was now.

"Okay," he repeated, like he was still trying to make sense of things. He took a deep breath. "I'm going to have to strangle him, then."

Blaine covered his face with his hands. "Coop, I don't need my big brother to go all macho on my husband and defend my honor. That's not why I'm telling you. I'm just…" He glanced up at him, desperately. "I'm lost. I don't know what to do."

"Kick his ass is what you should do," Cooper muttered angrily under his breath, and when Blaine glared at him, he raised his hands defensively. "Hey, I'm just saying. I know you're a grown ass man, but you'll always be my little brother. I don't want you to get hurt. Or the kids."

Blaine stopped pretending he was interested in eating. He sat back with what he was sure was a very defeated look on his face, and looked almost imploringly at Cooper. "Tell me I got it all wrong. Tell me I'm making all of it up in my head."

Cooper reached across the table and squeezed his brother's arm. "I don't know if I can tell you that, B."

"Eddie might have meant to send them to someone else," Blaine said, once again sounding a little desperate. "Maybe he just sent them to Jack by mistake. It doesn't have to mean…"

"You've told me that things have kind of… stilled between you two," Cooper said carefully. "I mean, I get that having two kids makes you have other priorities but… you're still a couple. And if he hasn't even shown interest in being with you…"

Blaine was truly regretting having told Cooper. It was only making him more nauseous. "I don't know what to do," he said again, because it all came down to that.

Cooper frowned, clearly confused. "What do you mean you don't know what to do? You have to dump his ass right now."

"Cooper…"

"No, Blainey, listen to me," he leaned a little closer, speaking in urgent tones. "You deserve better than a husband who's never there for you, and I've thought that for a while, but I haven't said anything. But now you're telling me he's cheating on you? No. Get the hell out of there."

"It's not that simple, okay?" Blaine retorted, a lot louder than he intended, making half the café turn to look at him. He lowered his voice. "It's not simple, Cooper. I have two children. What the hell am I going to do? Walk out on them because of something their father did? Or take them with me, uproot their entire life, make them miserable because they're too young to truly understand why their fathers can't be together? And where the hell would I go?"

"You can come live with us," Cooper said at once.

"Thank you for having my back, but it's not an actual solution, Cooper," Blaine said sadly. "And I don't… am I an idiot for thinking maybe I can get him to see what he would miss out on if he left me for that other guy? I want him to want to stay with me, Coop, with us. We're a family. I can't…"

He stopped talking abruptly, knowing that saying one more word meant he was going to start sobbing uncontrollably in public, and that was the last thing he needed. He was already embarrassed enough.

"I just…" he tried, and had to stop again, swallow around the knot in his throat, and start over. "I just wanted to talk to someone, and you're the person I trust the most. It's been driving me crazy since I found out. I just… I needed to talk about it. But I don't know if I'm ready to actually do something about it yet."

Cooper looked at him sadly. "Aren't you angry? Because I would be furious if this was happening to me."

Blaine shook his head very slowly, and this was the most fucked up thing about it. "I'm not. I'm just… hurt. And I keep wondering what I did wrong to have him do something like that. Did I miss any anniversaries? Did I stop paying enough attention to him? Should I have been more receptive to his interests? Should I have…? I don't know, Coop. Where did I fail?"

"Hey, no," Cooper said vehemently. "You didn't fail. He failed, if he's cheating on you. He's the one making all the wrong choices."

"Would he be making all the wrong choices, if I made him happy? If I was enough?" His voice cracked on the last word and he had to hide his face again, but there was no stopping the shaking of his shoulders as he started to cry.

"Fuck," Cooper said under his breath, and stood up, went around the table, and slid into the booth next to Blaine. He put his arm around him. "It's alright, Squirt. Just let it out."

Blaine had to let it out because he had no other choice. It was choking him, making it hard to breathe, heavier to carry day after day. "I'm sorry," he murmured, because he still didn't like making a scene.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," Cooper said as he rubbed his back comfortingly. "Except for saying you aren't enough. You've been more than goddamn enough since the day you were born, and whatever Jack decides to do can't change that. Do you hear me?"

Blaine could only nod, but he wasn't sure he believed it himself.

"And if you ever change your mind," Cooper said, poking him on the side, probably trying to lighten the situation a bit. "I'll be more than ready and willing to punch him in the face."

Blaine let out a sort of wet chuckle that didn't last that long. "Thanks for being in my corner, Coop."

"Nowhere else I'd rather be, Squirt," Cooper said, and squeezed him tight, like he alone could keep Blaine from breaking into a million pieces, if he held him firmly enough.

All Blaine had to do now was endure – for his children and for himself.

There was something about mornings that Kurt really enjoyed. It probably had to do with the fact that it was the one moment in which Ian wasn't working – he sat at the table for breakfast and they chatted about their days, and he read the newspaper, which Kurt teased him and called him old-fashioned for, and it was probably the one part of their marriage that was exactly how Kurt had pictured a marriage would be.

Sometimes Ian even woke up earlier than he did, to hit the treadmill for a bit, and he would either wake Kurt up as he was about to hit the shower, looking all delicious and sweaty, or he would make breakfast for them, which was one of Kurt's favorite things, because his eggs Florentine were perfect every time.

It was the latter on this particular morning, and they were sitting at their kitchen table, feet nudging playfully underneath, each in their own world, but together. Ian was immersed in his newspaper and Kurt was sending his father reminders that he had an appointment with his cardiologist today. He could be almost six hundred miles away from his dad, but he still did his best to take care of him as if he was just in the next room.

He also made sure to text Rachel to check how Camden was doing, and received a picture in reply. Camden looked like he was doing better, definitely, with half his face covered in his breakfast.

"Aw look at him," Kurt said and showed his phone to Ian, who glanced up from the newspaper.

Ian squinted his eyes at the picture, as if he couldn't see what Kurt was pointing at. "That has always been a very unattractive child."

"Ian!" Kurt exclaimed, tearing his phone away as if he was protecting Camden from his awful words. "Don't be so horrible."

Ian chuckled. "Sorry, sorry. It's just that he's not exactly the poster child for convincing people to procreate, is he?"

"You're a bad, bad man," Kurt scolded him.

"I'm sorry!" Ian repeated. "It's just that I don't get it. Jesse and Rachel aren't unattractive at all, one would think they'd make a better looking kid."

"Incorrigible," Kurt said. He didn't know why he was suddenly in such a bad mood, he knew his husband was just kidding. Or at least he hoped he would be kidding. "You can't be saying things like that. If we had a kid, you wouldn't say he or she was ugly, would you?"

"The fact that I think children are ugly is one of the reasons we don't have kids, Kurt," Ian replied. "I just never understood why some people melt at the sight of a baby."

"Do you enjoy kicking puppies as a hobby, too?" Kurt asked, and he couldn't hide how much it upset him.

Ian sighed, and he obviously wasn't having fun teasing him anymore. "Kurt, come on. I'm just kidding. I just don't find babies cute. Why is that a crime? You've always known that about me…"

And he was right, Kurt did know. But for some reason, the bitterness about his own acceptance of Ian's decision not to have children was back with all its strength this week. He hadn't been this bothered by it since they had first discussed it and they both had realized one of them would have to give in and lose something if they wanted to stay together.

But maybe it was the first time that Kurt realized he was the only one who had actually lost something.

Ian must have noticed how the mood shifted so suddenly, turning somehow darker, because he cleared his throat and said: "So, what does your day look like today?"

It took a moment for Kurt to be able to clear his thoughts enough to reply. "Uhm. I have a school visit today. Then I'm going to work some more on my draft. And I have to call dad later to see how it went with his cardiologist."

"Give him my best," Ian said, as he stood up and took his dishes to the sink. "I'll probably have to stay late at the office again today. The Frankfurt Book Fair is coming up and there's still a lot to get ready for it."

Kurt nodded. He wasn't surprised. "Well, text me if you're not going to be home for dinner."

"I will." Ian finished washing his dishes and then went around the table to kiss Kurt's cheek. "See you later, babe. Have a nice day."

"You too," Kurt replied absently.

Kurt stayed at the kitchen table longer than he should have, lost in his own thoughts despite the fact that he was trying very, very hard not to think. Sometimes it really bothered him, how insensitive Ian could be. He knew that he was joking, trying to get Kurt all riled up about something he thought didn't matter.

But it mattered. God, how it mattered.

It wasn't something he wanted to deal with right now, so he drained the rest of his lukewarm coffee, cleared the dishes and went into his bedroom to get ready for his day.

He really loved doing events at schools. Children could be so fun to be around, and they always had the most unexpected questions about his books and his characters. You never knew what to expect with them, and maybe Kurt was starting to crave more of the unexpected.

Maybe he was getting tired of his life being made up of days that felt an exact copy of the last one. Maybe he was getting tired of never having exactly what he wanted, but a version someone else had chosen and designed for him.

Maybe he was just a little bit bitterer this morning.

Kurt arrived at the elementary school right on time – or, well, he was a couple of minutes late actually, something he hated. He was always a punctual person, but he guessed he was just a bit out of it at the moment. He was welcomed by the school's principal, who luckily didn't seem to mind that he had kept her waiting, and quickly guided him down the hallways to the classroom where he was expected. It was a lovely school, every wall covered in colorful pictures drawn by the kids, and from every room he could hear laughter and children's voices.

It warmed his suddenly cold heart a little.

The principal stopped at a door near the end of the hallway and knocked as she opened it, a big smile on her face.

"Mr. Anderson, look who's here!" She announced, and the kids inside started cheering.

Kurt followed her into the classroom, and was immediately charmed by how the kids had decorated it to receive him. There were drawings of his book covers in form of garlands all over the walls, and a big sign that said "Welcome Mr. Hummel!" in colorful writing. His books were in a pile on the teacher's desk, and there was a chair set up for him at the front, with a small table next to it, where they had put a jug of water and some candy.

He couldn't help smiling at the display. It looked like they had put a lot of thought and effort into it.

"Hi guys!" He said.

"Good morning, Mr. Hummel!" All kids echoed at the same time.

"This is our second grade teacher, Mr. Anderson." The principal shook his hand once more and said: "I'm leaving you in great hands. Thank you for visiting us, Mr. Hummel."

Kurt turned to the man who had just approached him and stopped, frowning. He was very, very familiar. Those brownish green eyes, that dark curly hair… Where had he seen this man before?

Mr. Anderson didn't seem to be having the same problem, because he smiled politely and shook his hand, too. "Mr. Hummel, thank you so much for coming. I can't tell you how excited the kids are to meet you."

"Please, call me Kurt," he said. "And thank you for inviting me."

"Of course. We're really happy to have you," Mr. Anderson said, as he gestured for Kurt to take his seat.

Kurt sat down and was suddenly right in front of a sea of excited faces. A girl with pigtails was bouncing on her seat and the boy right behind her was getting impatient because she kept blocking his view of the front of the classroom. Even though Kurt did school visits often as part of his work, it was always so bewildering to see how thrilled they were to meet him. They made him feel like a rock star.

Well, a very particular kind of rock star who sang songs about naps and puppies, maybe.

"Alright, everyone," Mr. Anderson said, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. And it was sort of sweet, how they all turned to him at once. Kurt had been in lots of classrooms, and not all teachers had this command of the room. It was clear the kids adored him and respected him. "Remember our rules, alright? You have to raise your hand to ask a question, and wait patiently for your turn. Once you get to ask it, you have to let everyone else participate, okay?"

A little hand flew in the air. A chubby little kid with eager eyes stared at Mr. Anderson.

"Yes, Peter?"

"What if we think of another question and it's so much better than the first one? Don't we get to ask it?" He said.

"Once everyone's asked their question, then we'll see if there's any time left for more. We can't keep Mr. Hummel here forever," Mr. Anderson explained patiently.

"Why not?" Someone screamed from the back, making Kurt laugh.

It took a few more minutes to get the kids organized and ready, and then the questions started. Most of them were about his books and their favorite characters, but a few were about whether he liked cats or dogs more and whether he believed that if you started digging a hole in the park, you could get to China. That last one made Kurt snort out a laugh, and glance at the teacher, who was covering his face with his hand like he couldn't believe they had gotten themselves into this.

"Well, I don't know," he said, when it was clear the kid was expecting an actual answer. "Maybe I'll investigate that and write a book about it someday."

When it was time for a serious-looking girl with glasses right at the front, she checked her notes like she was a professional journalist, and then said: "Hi, Mr. Hummel. My name's Ilana. It's very nice to meet you. I would like to ask you what your most prized possession is."

He couldn't stop smiling at her. She was an endearing little thing. "That's a great question, Ilana. And it's also very nice to meet you, too," he said, as he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. "I often happen to have my most prized possession right here with me. It's a pen that my father got for me when I signed my first publishing deal. He had it engraved with my name and told me I should look at it whenever I was signing a book, and remember how far I've come."

He showed the pen to everyone, holding it high so even the kids in the back could see it.

After the questions were over, they all wanted him to sign their books, which Kurt did with pleasure, taking the time to chat with them. In the meantime, he kept trying to figure out where he had seen Mr. Anderson before… which was when it hit him, just like the coffee had hit him. This was the guy from the coffee shop, the one he had spilled his mocha on. He remembered that the man had seemed so odd, like there was something traumatic going on, like there was something fundamentally wrong. He seemed fine now, but… Kurt chanced a glance at him again, and though he was smiling at the kids, encouraging them, it was obvious it was just the surface. Whenever he wasn't talking to one of the kids, Mr. Anderson got a faraway look, like there was something he couldn't quite hide anymore, something that he had tried pushing down but it kept rising back up.

Poor guy looked like he needed a spa day.

After he was done signing, the kids had recess, so Mr. Anderson walked them out and then returned to thank Kurt for the visit.

"They were all so happy, it truly means a lot," he said.

"Of course, it was my pleasure," Kurt smiled, and hesitated, before he added: "So… did you get the stain out?"

Mr. Anderson tilted his head like a dog, which shouldn't have been as adorable as it actually was. "I… what?"

"You know," Kurt shrugged, like it didn't matter. "The other day, at the coffee shop. I spilled coffee on you."

"Oh!" Mr. Anderson's eyes widened. "You… that was you? Wow. Just when you think New York is the biggest city in the world…"

"I know, it's crazy," Kurt chuckled. "So, did you save the coat?"

"I did," Mr. Anderson said with a quick nod. "Thanks for the tip."

"No problem. I still feel terrible, though," Kurt said.

"Oh, don't. It was my fault. I was distracted."

And Kurt wanted to ask him what had gotten him so distracted, but he didn't want to cross a line, so he just kept smiling. "Happens to all of us," he muttered, and grabbed his coat. "Well, thank you so much for having me. I had such a great time. They're all very bright kids."

"Yes, they are amazing," Mr. Anderson's face softened, and it was so obvious he cared about his students. It was really sweet. "Oh, and before you go…" He went around his desk and got something out of a drawer. "Would you mind signing a couple of books for my kids? They're their favorite bedtime stories."

"Of course," Kurt said, taking his pen out of his pocket again. "How old are they?"

"Lena is seven and Theo is two," Mr. Anderson replied. "Lena actually loves your series about the Christmas elves. She has us reading it all year round. She'll kill me if I don't ask you if you have another book planned for the series."

"Sorry to disappoint her, but not at the moment," Kurt said with an apologetic little grin. "But I'll keep it in mind."

"Thank you," Mr. Anderson said sincerely.

After signing, Kurt took a look around the classroom. For some reason, he was reluctant to leave. It felt like such a cozy, happy space and he suddenly wasn't very eager to return to his lonely office to stare at a blank screen for a few more hours.

"You must love kids," Kurt commented quietly. "I mean, you're great with them, so it shines through, really."

"Oh thanks for saying that, it's sweet," Mr. Anderson said. "And I do. I've always liked them. Always wanted to be a teacher, although I had a hard time picking between being an elementary school teacher or a music teacher. But I think I made the right choice."

"Clearly," Kurt said with a smile.

"Do you have kids of your own?" Mr. Anderson asked, and Kurt must have made a face without noticing, because he immediately backtracked. "Oh, I'm so sorry. It's rude of me to ask. I didn't mean to…"

"Don't, it's fine," Kurt said and he had a feeling the smile on his face looked a little plastic. It felt sort of unnatural. "I love kids but they're not in the plans."

He didn't elaborate. He still felt a little tender from what had happened at breakfast with Ian.

Plus it would be weird, wouldn't it? To tell a stranger that his husband didn't want kids and that Kurt was starting to think, although he was a little scared to admit it even to himself, that he had made a terrible mistake?

"Anyway, I…" Kurt shook his head, trying to get rid of that thought. "I should go. Thanks again for having me."

"We're the ones who have to thank you," Mr. Anderson said, kindly.

They said goodbye and Kurt let Mr. Anderson return to his students, assuring him he could find his way out by himself. He felt weird, almost like he regretted having to leave the school, but he ignored it, just like he had been forcing himself to ignore so, so many other things.

Blaine stood at the classroom door and watched Kurt Hummel walk away and wondered what the hell that tingly sensation inside of him was, but he didn't have enough time to figure it out because one of his kids came running into the classroom, pouting.

"Mr. Anderson, Billy is pulling my hair!"

Blaine was grateful for distractions. He wouldn't have known how to go on without them.

And we make mistakes

And they make us what we are

And we jump right in

And throw open our hearts

And we catch a glimpse of something magical

Want it all, take it all, got it all

My favorite thing about this chapter is the one and only Cooper Anderson. I always love writing him. And our boys met again!

What do you think is going to happen next?

See you on Wednesday for more!

L.-