Happy Wednesday, my loves. Hope you had a really lovely week.
I can only thank you over and over again for the support and the love. Thanks for commenting on every chapter and make me want to keep writing for all of you for as long as I can.
Thank you to Christine, for all her help making this story readable. And thanks to Sofi, for keeping my WIP list somewhat organized.
The song in this chapter is Thread (part 2).
Enjoy!
Hold me in your arms
Where everything made sense
Where I knew right from wrong
Could live with restlessness
All my life I won't forget the pain in your eyes
Kurt's first instinct was to turn away from Ian – he couldn't quite read the expression on his face, wasn't sure whether he was tilting towards betrayal and pain or uncontrollable anger, so the priority here was to get Blaine away from him at once.
"Go home," he said, reaching briefly for his hand, squeezing in what he hoped translated as comfort.
Blaine glanced between Kurt and his husband, hesitating. "Kurt, I don't think…"
"I'll be fine," he promised, with a small smile that he forced on his lips. "I'll call you later."
Blaine looked simultaneously like he didn't want to leave him and like he wanted to be anywhere but here. The concern in his hazel eyes was impossible to hide.
"Are you serious right now?" Ian exclaimed, clearly unable to believe that, on top of having found his husband kissing someone else, he was being ignored right now. "Jesus fucking Christ, Kurt…"
"Please go," Kurt insisted in a tremulous voice. He squeezed Blaine's hand once more to signal his urgency. "Go."
Blaine seemed so helpless that Kurt had to fight the need to pull him into his arms. "Okay," he said weakly. "I… I'm sorry."
He turned around and hailed a cab. He was gone before Kurt could even finish exhaling his breath, before he could swallow down the need to hide in his arms and pretend like this wasn't happening. Kurt wasn't even sure why he had said he was sorry: this wasn't Blaine's fault. It was bound to happen eventually, right? Especially since they had been so, so reckless…
Everything felt in slow motion. It took every strength he had left to face his husband.
Ian had never looked at him like that, like he was something dirty and unpleasant stuck to the sole of his shoe. For a moment, Kurt thought back to the day they had gotten married, and saw himself standing at the altar in front of him, his hands in his, and Ian's eyes so full of love and wonder, like he couldn't believe he got to call Kurt his husband…
That day, it would have been impossible to imagine that they would end up like this. Kurt had never thought Ian would make him feel the way he had made him feel lately, and he had certainly never imagined he would be able to be with another man, to fall in love with someone new, to go behind his husband's back.
Everything was so fucked up.
"Ian…" he started.
"Don't say you can explain," Ian cut him off abruptly. "Because I don't think you can."
"I can try," Kurt said miserably.
Ian laughed bitterly and glanced around, like he was trying to find where he was, like he was so lost he didn't know. His gaze fell on the hotel Kurt had exited with Blaine not that long ago. "Oh yeah? Is that where you've been? What are you going to explain? That you've been in bed with someone else while I was at work?"
A few people stopped to stare at them, and Kurt could feel his cheeks lighting up in shame and humiliation. "Ian, let's go home and talk."
"You're not denying it, then," Ian muttered, and for the first time there was a flash of pain in his face, like Kurt was just confirming every single one of his suspicions. "That's what you've been doing?"
"Ian…" Kurt tried once more.
"No," Ian said. He took a step back, as if all he wanted was to be as far away from him as possible. "I have… I'm supposed to be meeting someone. I have… contracts and… and I have to be there."
"Please," Kurt begged. "Work can wait. Just this one time, come home with me so we can talk."
"Honestly, Kurt, I can't even stand to look at you right now," Ian shook his head and took another step back. "I'll see you later. I need… I need time."
Before Kurt could say another word, Ian was walking away as fast as he could, leaving him there alone, staring at the pieces of everything he had ever thought was whole and perfect. But it wasn't. It was broken, and it was his fault, wasn't it?
He held the tears back and headed home alone.
I'm still scrubbing at the stain of this mess
Wish you could understand
The madness that grabbed at my throat
And clung to my hands
He waited. He didn't even dare turn on the light. He sat very still on the couch, staring at the hallway where the front door was, Petra purring in his lap, blissfully unaware that Kurt's whole world had rocked and stopped and was now stalled, paralyzed – he wasn't sure he could get it to spin anymore.
He didn't even dare send a text to Blaine. He didn't want to do anything that would make this worse, although he couldn't imagine what could be worse than his husband finding him kissing someone else outside a hotel.
He should have known this would happen. He should have been more careful.
But how could he have been more careful when his heart had never felt as wild as when it beat for Blaine? Everything in him became untethered, and nothing mattered, except being close to him.
He couldn't tell Ian that, it would hurt him. And yet, he owed him the truth.
If he ever came home, of course.
Minutes ticked, ticked, ticked, endless, eternal, like they stretched and stretched until Kurt's skin was crawling with anxiety, until he felt like he couldn't wait for another second, until he was so worn out he just wanted to close his eyes and never face the world again. The apartment darkened, the city outside welcomed the night and Kurt stayed where he was, like staying still was part of the penitence for his sins.
He would never be able to make up for them, though, would he?
He was exhausted, drained, lost. Everything that had happened in the past few months, that had been piling up on him, seemed to come down on him at last, crushing him. He couldn't breathe. He didn't know how to pull the debris off himself, how to find a way out to the light, how to make everything okay again.
It felt like the end was looming over him – just what kind of end, he wasn't sure. Not yet.
The front door opened. Kurt heard it from where he was sitting on the couch, but he couldn't see it from here, and he still didn't dare move. He inhaled, shakily, like he was trying to gather a little bit of strength, but there was nothing left inside of him, nowhere to draw it from. He heard Ian dropping his things in the entryway – keys on the bowl, bag on the floor, shoes being kicked off. It seemed to take a long time until he finally walked into the living room and stood where Kurt could see him, the lights from the street coming through the window and reflecting on his face. He looked untidy, hair a mess, tie undone.
"You're home," Kurt muttered, stupidly. For a moment he had thought Ian would never come. When hours and hours went by, he wondered if his husband had just decided that walking away and never seeing him again would be easier.
Kurt wouldn't have blamed him.
"I had to stop at a bar for a drink," Ian replied, his voice carefully levelled, like he didn't want to show what he was really feeling. "Had to talk myself into coming here, really."
"How did it go with your contracts and your meeting and…?" Kurt asked, hoping he could delay the inevitable, just a little longer.
Ian snorted. "Like you care about that?"
Kurt looked away, embarrassed. "Ian, I…"
"What?" He interrupted him, brusquely. "What are you going to say, Kurt? What are you going to try to explain? Are you going to tell me about this man you were kissing? And is the kissing all that happened or did you really go into that hotel with him? Or maybe you're going to try to give me an excuse, lie through your teeth, make me think I saw something that wasn't really there? Do you really think I'm that stupid?"
Kurt had sat here for hours, trying to figure out what he was going to say, how he was going to explain, how he was going to try to fix this mess he had made. But now, he just looked at Ian and realized that the only thing left in him was the truth.
"No excuses," he said quietly. "I… I was at that hotel with him. We've been meeting there for a while now, actually."
Ian froze, looking like he had just punched him in the stomach and pulled all the air out of him. He looked like he hadn't expected Kurt's honesty at all. "What?"
"I'm sorry," Kurt whispered.
Ian took a deep breath, and then another, and one more, like it wasn't enough. "How long?"
"I… I met him in September," Kurt said. "We hung out for a while, just having coffee and going to the gym. We were just friends. But then I… I kissed him. We've been sleeping together since November."
"That's…" Ian stuttered. "That's almost four months, Kurt. You've been… you've been cheating on me for four months?"
Kurt looked at him miserably. "Does it really matter how long it's been?"
"Yes! Yes, it fucking matters!" Ian screamed, so loud that he scared Petra, who jumped off Kurt's lap and ran away down the hallway, probably to slip under their bed. She always hid there when she was scared – with the fireworks on Fourth of July and New Year's, it was impossible to get her out. "Because it means you could have either told me or stop at any point during these four fucking months, and you didn't!"
"I'm sorry," Kurt said again. He wondered how many times he would say those words before the night was over, and where they would land them: on reconciliation or the opposite? And what did he want?
The answer was right there, on the tip of his tongue, and yet he didn't dare say it out loud. He had been biting it back for months now. Since even before everything happened with Blaine.
He was scared. He was right on the brink of it all and he was scared.
"I don't care if you're sorry," Ian said, shaking his head. "How could you do this to me, Kurt? I would never cheat on you. I would never hurt you in any way…"
"Wouldn't you?" Kurt retorted before he could stop himself. "I think it's pretty rich of you to say that when you haven't said more than five words to me all week."
"I was mad at you!" Ian exclaimed.
"Because I tried to find something that made me happy?" Kurt said, frowning. "Because I didn't want to work with you anymore? Because for once I didn't bend to your will and pretend like what you want in life is the same thing I want?"
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Ian asked.
Kurt sighed, exhausted once more. Everything he had been carrying inside, every disappointment, every decision he had made for the wrong reasons was back. "Ian, I gave everything up for you. And I'm not saying you asked me to – not always. But I gave up everything I wanted: having kids, my dream job, the life I pictured since I was just a boy in Ohio wanting to get out. And I would have been happy to do so if I felt like it was worth it. But lately… lately, I've felt so alone. This marriage has felt like such a lonely experience, and it shouldn't be like that. It shouldn't be about me waiting for you at home while you're at work. It shouldn't be about living together, being in the same orbit, but never really crossing. Is that really the marriage you've always wanted? Because it's not the one I wanted…"
Ian laughed bitterly. "Oh it's my fault, then. It's my fault that you went out and found someone new to fuck? That's great, Kurt. That's really great…"
Kurt ran his hand through his hair, a little desperate. "That's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is… I've been so unhappy for a while now, and you never noticed. And when I told you I needed something from you, you ignored me. So it's not your fault that I found someone else," Kurt said. He took a deep breath and added: "But I think it's a bit your fault that this marriage has failed."
With a huffed, Ian turned away from him. "Wow, okay. Wow."
"I'm not saying I haven't done anything wrong, Ian," Kurt said, finally standing up and trying to take a few steps towards him, but Ian just kept making the distance bigger. "Because I have, and sleeping with Blaine was certainly wrong…"
"Oh, Blaine," Ian repeated, and he almost spat the name. Kurt didn't like how it sounded when he said it. "Right, yes, let's talk about Blaine. I want to hear all about this son of a bitch who's been doing my husband…"
"Leave him out of this," Kurt said sharply, and then softened his tone and added: "Please. This is not about him. This is about us."
"You made him a part of it when you started screwing him, Kurt!" Ian screamed. "Why am I the unreasonable one here? I would never cheat on you! How could you do this to me?"
"I'm sorry, I'm not trying to excuse what I did. I know it was wrong, and I know I hurt you by doing it," Kurt said, doing his best to keep calm. But all of this had been bottled up inside of him for so long that it felt like it was about to boil over and spill all over their lives. "But Ian… you have to understand, please. I've been miserable. I tried talking to you – how many times did I ask you to take time off? How many times did I try to explain to you that I wasn't happy with how things were? You didn't listen to me. You only cared about work. That's all you ever care about. We sit down for dinner and you tell me about your meetings with authors, and the only time you ask me something about myself is to know if I've been writing. Most of the time, it doesn't feel like you're my husband. It feels like I'm just sleeping with my editor, and that's when you're here. You are always at the office, you're always getting home so late…"
"At least you know I'm at work and not in some hotel room with some random guy," Ian said.
This was getting nowhere. Ian was too upset to understand, to see where Kurt was coming from. He had never wanted things to get this bad. He never should have let them. He should have been smarter, braver. He should have gone for what he wanted from the very start, instead of going about it all wrong and having to make so many excuses, having to ask for forgiveness now.
He had never wanted to hurt Ian, either. He had loved him, had married him because he thought it was the best thing he could do, because he thought a life spent with him would be a dream come true. But at some point, along the way, that dream had changed and the love he'd felt melted away.
So Kurt decided to be brave, because it was now or never. He was backed against a wall, and he needed a way out.
"I think we need to get a divorce," he said, and though the words cut as knives on their way out, he was instantly filled with a kind of relief he hadn't expected.
He had said it. There was no turning back from this now. He had finally said what had been buzzing in his head for the past few months, what he hadn't dared voice out loud because it was scary to think of starting over, of having to look back at his life and realize that, even though they'd had happy moments together, they had wasted so much time getting it wrong with each other. They had always wanted different things. Why had they forced their way through a marriage that had been doomed before it started?
"So you can be with him?" Ian asked, incredulous, like that was the worst thing he could think of.
Kurt shrugged, sadly. Of course he wanted more than anything to be with Blaine – but things were complicated and he didn't have all the answers. "So we can be happy, Ian. We haven't made each other happy in such a long time. We haven't been on the same page in so long. Do you really want to keep wasting time with me when it's clear that it's over?"
For the first time that night, Ian's anger seemed to vanish and be replaced by clear and utter anguish. He looked like he was in pain. But then it was gone, like it hadn't been there in the first place.
"You could have told me it was over before you started fucking someone else," Ian said. "You wouldn't have told me if I hadn't seen you two together today, huh? I may not have been what you wanted, I may have disappointed you as a husband, but at least I'm not such a piece of shit to lie to your face like that for months."
That stung, because it was true. Kurt knew it was true. But he couldn't explain to Ian that the pull he had felt towards Blaine had been so magnetic, so overpowering, that he hadn't been able to think straight since the moment they had met. He had known he was doing something wrong, and yet he couldn't stop himself.
What had Blaine said once? That Kurt made him feel alive? That was exactly what it felt like when they were together. And he couldn't tell that to his husband as he was telling him their marriage was over.
"I'm sorry," he said instead, because it was all he could say.
Ian huffed. "You keep saying that. But the thing, Kurt, is that I don't think I believe a fucking word you say anymore." He looked at him in a way he had never looked at Kurt before today, like he was something stuck to his shoe again, or worse. Like there had never been any love between them. "You want a divorce? Fine. I'll be glad to be rid of you, you lying, cheating, ungrateful bastard."
Kurt's whole body shook like he had just gotten a very hard slap. "Ian…"
But Ian was already turning around and marching back towards the foyer. "I'm going to stay at a hotel. I can't stand to be here for another second."
"Wait, I can go. You don't have to…" Kurt started to say, but the slam of the front door was quick to silence him.
And then he was alone and the weight of what he had done fell on him once more, heavier than ever, suffocating him.
He was alone, and maybe he deserved to be alone. Maybe it was the only way he wouldn't hurt anyone.
Well, maybe it was just our time
Forgive me, remember that I'm
A good man, just not good enough
Don't hate me, I was just in love
And caught in my own net
"Aren't you coming to bed?"
Blaine glanced up from the papers strewn all over the coffee table and found Jack standing there, in his pajamas, scratching his head in that sleepy way that Blaine had always thought was sort of adorable.
"I have to finish up some lesson planning," he said, pointing at the papers. "Go back to bed, I'll join you in a bit."
Jack didn't say another word, simply turned around and left, and soon Blaine heard the soft click of their bedroom door being shut. Blaine sighed and looked at the coffee table again. The lesson planning had seemed like a good idea to keep himself distracted in theory, but it wasn't going as well as he had expected. Instead, he kept glancing at his phone every two minutes, expecting a message from Kurt.
Blaine had felt tense ever since walking away from Kurt in front of the hotel. He couldn't forget the way his husband had looked at them. He had hesitated. Maybe he should have stayed with Kurt, made sure he was alright, made sure he didn't have to go through this by himself. But he also didn't want to make things worse by being there. Leaving him alone to deal with it had been one of the hardest things Blaine had ever had to do.
Unable to stop himself for another second, Blaine grabbed his phone and texted him: Hey. I'm worried. Let me know if you're okay?
He put the phone down and tried to keep himself from checking for a reply every few seconds, and failed horribly. He stopped pretending to be working on his lesson plans, and simply waited. He wanted to be right there if Kurt needed him. He was honestly picturing the worse scenario and he didn't like it one bit.
But deep down inside, and he felt like shit for it, he was slightly relieved that it had been Ian finding them and not Jack. He wanted Kurt to be okay, and he wanted him to be safe and happy, but he couldn't face his own husband, couldn't even let himself imagine what it would be like if he had to tell Jack the truth, if his family had to face the blow of what he had done.
God, he was selfish. He didn't even know if Kurt was going through hell right now, and he was being such a coward…
His phone buzzed after what felt like an eternity and Blaine almost knocked it off the coffee table in his haste to reach for it.
[From Kurt]: I'm fine. As fine as I can be, I guess. I need to see you, though. When can I see you?
Blaine exhaled, relief flowing through him.
[From Blaine]: I'm glad you're fine. I can see you tomorrow, after work? I'm sorry it can't be sooner.
Kurt's reply took a couple of minutes, and Blaine waited with his phone in his hands, anxiously.
[From Kurt]: Okay. That's alright. I wish I could hold you right now, though. I wish I could just fall asleep in your arms and pretend everything's easier than it is.
Blaine smiled sadly at his phone. He had wished for the same thing so many times, he had lost count.
[From Blaine]: I'm sorry, Kurt. We should have been more careful.
Or maybe they shouldn't have started this in the first place, knowing how complicated everything was going to be, knowing they would be doing something wrong…
But Blaine hadn't been able to resist it, to resist him, and as much as he knew what they had done wasn't right, he couldn't regret it. How could he regret the one thing that made him feel whole, and seen, and cherished?
[From Kurt]: It's okay, love. We just ran out of luck. But I wouldn't change a single thing I've done since the day I met you. It's all been so, so worth it.
It warmed Blaine's heart, despite how tough the situation was. They both didn't regret anything, and that was enough, at least for now.
They said goodnight, because it was late, and Blaine made him promise he would text him if he needed anything, but Kurt said he just needed to sleep and try to turn his mind off for a bit. Blaine was dying to know what had happened: had Kurt made up with his husband? Or was it all over? But he didn't ask him. He could wait until the next day and give Kurt some space to rest in the meantime.
But when Blaine finally made it to bed himself, he couldn't sleep. He spent the rest of the night listening to Jack's soft breathing, and wondering what the hell he would do when everything inevitably went to shit for him as well.
Hanging, left spinning in the wind
Sliding, you grab at anything
Just lost our way
We just lost our way
You try to be all things to all men
And wind up with a love that's spread too thin
Just lost our way
The walls that we built were just washed away
Kurt's new office was still a little barren. It lacked character, the walls bare and everything too white, too empty, too boring. He had been thinking about bringing in a few pictures, a few plants, a few items to place on his desk, but that was before his life went off the rails so badly that he wasn't sure where he was standing anymore.
He had considered calling Isabelle and telling her he couldn't go to work, but the truth was that staying alone in his apartment, surrounded by nothing but his negative thoughts, seemed like the worst idea ever. So instead, he showered and got dressed like it was a normal day, and took the train to Brooklyn, to the warehouse where Isabelle had been developing her line. There was a pile of work on his desk that he needed to get to, but mostly he sat there for the first twenty minutes, a cup of coffee between his hands, willing himself to do something.
He was numb. He knew there was no one but himself to blame for what had happened, but it still felt like the rug had been pulled from under him and he had lost his balance so badly, it was like he was never going to be steady on his own two feet again. Kurt hoped, he truly, truly hoped, that seeing Blaine today would bring him a bit of peace, that it would soothe him. Just looking at him, letting him wrap his arms around him, kissing him… that would heal Kurt's soul a little, wouldn't it?
Blaine was miraculous like that, after all.
But seeing him was too many hours away, still, and there was a pressure on Kurt's chest that he wasn't sure he would be able to put up with for the rest of the day. And he knew what it meant: his life never made sense until he talked it through with his dad.
It was time to call Burt and tell him the truth – all of it, this time. No exceptions, no omissions, no little white lies.
Just like last time, he caught his father on his way to work, only this time he was already pulling up at the garage, not at home, where he could sit on his old armchair and talk to his son. Instead, he sat in the truck, and Kurt could picture him – the familiar baseball cap on his head, the flannel shirt underneath his old green coat that Kurt couldn't get him to throw away no matter how worn out it got, his big hands on the steering wheel. He had always felt so safe when he was in the car with his dad. When he was a kid, he always fell asleep in the backseat, and his father would have to carry him inside and put him to bed. His mother had told him once that, when Kurt was a baby and he wouldn't fall asleep, they would drive him around the block over and over again until he stopped fussing.
He wished he could be in the back of the truck now, his father driving aimlessly, until the world was so peaceful that he had no choice but to nod off, no worries, no fears, no heavy weights on his shoulders, no failures.
"What's wrong?" His father asked as soon as he heard his voice, and Kurt loved that, too, that he could read him like an open book, that he didn't beat around the bush, that he cared enough about his son to know when something wasn't right.
"I fucked up, dad," he said, and his voice cracked. "I fucked up."
"What do you mean?" Burt wanted to know, urgency slipping into his tone. "What happened?"
"Ian and I are getting a divorce," Kurt explained, and it felt surreal to say it so plainly, even though it was the logical outcome all along. It still felt weird to think that Kurt was about to be divorced, that so many things had gone wrong, that he hadn't managed to have the loving, beautiful marriage his father had had with his mother, with Carole. He wondered if there was a secret, if there was something he was missing, and that was why he hadn't been able to make it work.
Or maybe it was just him – too flawed, too selfish, too broken to get this right. To have this one thing go perfectly.
Burt breathed out slowly. "Hell, Kurt. I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"
"No," Kurt replied, with a bitter chuckle. "No, I'm not okay. I guess part of me is relieved to get to stop pretending with him, but… it still stings, you know? It still hurts that things have to end like this."
"I bet. It can't be easy," Burt said, compassionately. "What was the detonator? Did you decide to talk to him?"
And this was the hardest part of having to tell his dad. Because Kurt didn't like lying to him, but telling him this, letting him see how rotten and awful he could be, how cruel and self-serving, was even worse.
"He found out I've been cheating on him," Kurt said, closing his eyes, like that would help him not see how bad things were. He would keep his eyes stubbornly closed for as long as it took.
There was a pause, and then Burt said: "Kurt," like it was the only thing he could say.
"I know, I know, I know," Kurt muttered, on the verge of tears. "Don't tell me I'm an asshole. Don't tell me I'm the worst person in the world because I know. I'm just… I messed everything up, but I couldn't stop myself, dad. I should have probably ended things up with Ian before I let anything happen, but I… I couldn't. I wasn't sure how to. And whenever I'm with Blaine…" once again he thought of what Blaine had said. He had truly nailed it when he did. Nothing described it best. "He makes me feel so alive, dad."
"Buddy, breathe," Burt said urgently.
"I can't," Kurt said. "I just can't."
"Yes, you can. Inhale and exhale, slowly, until you calm down, come on," Burt murmured, and he waited until Kurt had done that enough times. "Look, I don't really know what to say. Cheating on your husband is a huge thing, Kurt. And I understand that sometimes rational thinking isn't on the table, but if you've been unhappy for a while now, as you implied last time we talked about this…"
"I should have ended things sooner, I know," Kurt cut him off, frustrated. "There's a million things I should have done differently, dad. There's no excuse. I'm…"
"Don't say again that you're the worst person in the world, Kurt," Burt said at once. "Because you're not, and I think you know that. Making mistakes doesn't make you a bad person. Sometimes we hurt others even if we don't mean to."
"I'm not a good person, either," Kurt retorted. "I hurt Ian, and I knew what I was doing the whole time. It doesn't matter what things were like between us lately, that's not something a good person does."
"Do you love this Blaine guy?" Burt asked then, out of nowhere and Kurt's heart actually stuttered in his chest, a few beats skipping, like it was physically reacting to the sound of Blaine's name.
"Yes," he whispered softly, like it was a secret worth keeping safe. "Yes, dad, I'm in love with him."
Burt sighed heavily. "Well, then…"
"Well, then?" Kurt repeated, confused. "Does this mean you hate me?"
"Kurt, please. In what universe would I be capable of hating you? You're what I love the most – you have always been what I love the most," Burt said firmly, as if he never wanted Kurt to doubt that again. Then he paused, as if he was waiting for his words to take effect, before he added: "Tell me everything about him, kiddo."
Kurt didn't know where he would be without his dad. He never wanted to find out.
Well, maybe it was just our time
Forgive me, remember that I'm
A good man, just not good enough
Don't hate me, I was just in love
And hanging by a thread
Blaine couldn't remember having left work in such a hurry before – it was like his feet knew exactly what his heart had been craving all day, so as soon as he was free to go, they took him down the street and towards the subway at the fastest speed they were able to.
They were meeting at the coffee shop. After what had happened the previous day, neither felt right meeting at the hotel. Maybe those days were over. Blaine stood in the middle of a crowded subway car and wished he had known if it was the last time he would be able to touch Kurt: he would have committed to memory every inch of his skin. He would have touched him everywhere, would have kissed him everywhere. Now he didn't know if he'd have a chance to do it again.
He was scared of what he would find when he arrived. What if Ian had hurt him? Kurt had never mentioned anything that indicated his husband was a violent man, but Blaine was still worried. People could become someone completely new when they were under a lot of stress, when they were going through something hard they never thought they'd go through. He just wanted to see Kurt was all in one piece, his perfect face untouched, not a mark on his body, except the little hidden ones Blaine had left on him the previous afternoon.
Kurt was sitting at their usual table, this time without his computer. His eyes were lost outside the window, people-watching, his mouth downturned into what could have been interpreted as a sad smile. He still looked beautiful, but he wasn't as put together as he usually was: his hair wasn't styled as perfectly, and he was wearing comfier clothes than Blaine was used to seeing him in. There were dark marks under his eyes, like he hadn't slept well.
It broke his heart a little, because he had never seen Kurt look defeated until this very moment. And a person as amazing and bright as Kurt Hummel should have never looked defeated.
Blaine stepped into the coffee house, overwhelmed with the need to make him smile again, but he wasn't sure how realistic that was. It was time to deal with the consequences of their actions, after all.
It wasn't a smile, but Kurt's face flooded with relief as soon as his eyes found Blaine, and he exhaled, as if he had been holding his breath all this time, waiting for him to let it all out. Blaine rushed towards him, bumping against a few chairs like a clumsy idiot, but he didn't care. Kurt stood up and walked right into his arms as soon as Blaine made it to his side.
"Hey, baby," Blaine whispered into his ear, as Kurt nuzzled into his neck. Their arms were so tight around it each other, like they never wanted to let go, that it was a little hard to breathe, all over again. "How are you holding up?"
Kurt's fingers were digging into his back. "I've been better."
Blaine pulled away, just enough to be able to look at him directly. He seemed unharmed. The pain came from within. He cupped his cheek and leaned in for a quick, chaste peck. "I'll go get you a refill and we can talk about it, alright?"
Kurt seemed reluctant to let go, but he nodded anyway. He fell back into his seat like getting up and hugging Blaine had spent the little dredges of energy he had left, and Blaine watched him, concerned, for a second, before he made his way to the counter to order. He got coffees for both of them, and then bought a sandwich. He suspected Kurt hadn't eaten all day.
When he returned to the table, he pushed the plate towards him with a meaningful look. Kurt grimaced but tore a little piece out of the sandwich and popped it into his mouth.
"Thanks," he said after he swallowed.
"Eat up, you probably need it," Blaine said. He took a sip of coffee and stayed silent until Kurt had eaten most of the sandwich. Only then did he ask: "What happened?"
Kurt sighed and reached for his coffee. "We're getting a divorce," he said.
The word sat heavily in Blaine's stomach. It had felt like it was looming over his own marriage all these months, and he hated it, hated the terminality of it, that cut down like an axe. "I'm sorry," he muttered.
Kurt shrugged half-heartedly. "There was no other solution, really. I think we've been heading in this direction for a while now."
"Still, it's not easy," Blaine commented. "Did he… did he say anything?"
"Oh, he said a lot of things," Kurt chuckled bitterly. "He called me a lot of things I probably won't be able to forget for a long time. Most of them were true, too. So."
Blaine put his hand on top of Kurt's. "I'm sure that's not the case, Kurt."
Kurt shrugged again. "It's fine. I haven't been perfect. I deserved it. He was… he was far from perfect, too, but he never would have done what I did. He was hurt and he was honest, and it's fine. I can take it."
"I'm sorry," Blaine repeated, because it felt like the only appropriate thing to say. "I want to say that we should have been more careful, but that's just not right. We shouldn't… what we did was wrong. And I know we both enjoy being together, but we should have been smarter. We should have resisted the urge, we should have…"
Kurt frowned and shook his head, before he interrupted him: "No. No, that's not what I want. I mean, I feel like absolute shit at the moment, but I don't regret it, Blaine. Don't tell me you do."
Blaine smiled sadly at him. "I don't think I could. I really… I really like being with you, Kurt."
"Me too." A tiny grin appeared on Kurt's face, fleeting, but genuine.
"That doesn't change the fact that we should have been more responsible," Blaine sighed. He was tired. "Kissing in the street… that was just stupid. Even meeting here is stupid, anyone could see us. New York is so crowded and it feels so huge that we forget it's not that big at all – it's just a city, and we could cross paths with people we know at any time."
"We just ran out of luck," Kurt said, as if that had been the only important factor. "That's all, Blaine."
"It's not, though," Blaine said.
They drank their coffees, both lost in their own thoughts for a moment, before Kurt took a deep breath and said: "Well, something good came out of this, at least."
Blaine frowned at him. "What is that?"
Kurt reached across the table for his hand, cupping it between his own. "I know what I want, Blaine. I've known that for a while now, but I wasn't free to voice it, not until things got resolved with Ian. And I'm not saying they're a hundred percent solved now, because the divorce will take some time and we haven't actually figured out who's getting the apartment or what the hell we're doing next… but everything's out in the open now, and even though I feel bad for hurting him, I'm also so relieved. Because I couldn't lie anymore." His thumb traced a soft line over Blaine's knuckles, and there was something earnest in his eyes. "What I'm saying is… we can be together now. For real. Without having to hide. We could… we could have this," he gestured between them, "but without all the lies and the heartbreak."
It felt like Blaine's chest had suddenly become hollow. "Kurt…" he started to say.
"I know you have things to figure out, too," Kurt said. "And I'm not rushing you. I just… I thought maybe I would put it all on the table now, before it's too late. I want to be with you. I want to be able to walk down the street holding your hand without fearing someone will see us. I want to be able to see you whenever I want, and not when he have time to sneak around behind everyone else's back…"
"Kurt…" Blaine said again.
"I'm not saying you have to go home right now and tell Jack everything," Kurt continued, like he couldn't stop. His voice was shaking. "I'm just saying that… that maybe we can start thinking of how to fix things, how to go down that road…"
"Kurt, just because your husband saw us doesn't mean I'm going to run to mine to tell him everything right away…" Blaine said.
"I know, I know, that's not what I'm saying," Kurt retorted. "Again, I'm not rushing you. And I know it might look like I'm only doing this because Ian saw us, but that's not true. I've been thinking about this for a while, Blaine. I…"
He paused and Blaine's whole world seemed to be reduced to that small stretch of silence. His ears were buzzing. He thought he might be sick.
"I love you," Kurt said plainly. He shrugged, like he couldn't help himself, and gave him a soft smile. "I love you, Blaine. I've fallen in love with you and all I want is a life with you."
And there it was, the punch in the stomach. Blaine's heart tried to skip a few beats, but he was too stunned to notice.
He pulled his hand away.
"Kurt, I can't," he murmured.
Kurt looked at his suddenly empty hands, like he couldn't quite comprehend the space between them. "I… why not?"
"I just can't," Blaine said desperately. "It's not that easy. I can't just leave my husband…"
Kurt glanced up at him. "He's cheating on you, Blaine. He's been cheating on you for a long time now. Longer than you've cheated on him. Maybe he'll be relieved to have it all out in the open. Maybe he…"
"I can't," Blaine said again, and it was the only thing echoing in his head now: I can't, I can't, I can't…
"I don't understand," Kurt said in a quiet voice. He was hurt. Blaine was fucking everything up. "I mean… I get that what happened with Ian must have been scary for you, but… I thought you'd see it as an excuse to finally do what we want…"
"How do you even know what I want?" Blaine asked, and he sounded hysterical. Oh god, he was losing it. He felt sicker with every second that passed. "Kurt, we never said we would leave our husbands for each other, we never made any promises…"
"You can't tell me you never thought about it," Kurt replied. "We make each other so happy. I know you've been happy with me, Blaine. You can't deny it. Why would you stay in a marriage that doesn't work anymore? Why won't you do what's best for you?"
"You don't get to decide what's best for me!" Blaine exclaimed, a little louder than he intended. But everything in him was in turmoil, and he couldn't hold it back. He had to explode somehow. "You don't get to tell me my marriage is over! I can't give it up as easily as you did! I have children, Kurt! You have no idea what that means!"
He knew he had gone too far as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Kurt was so horribly still in front of him, his face livid, all the color draining from his cheeks. Then he inhaled sharply, and that was the only indication that he had heard what Blaine had said.
"You're right, Blaine," he muttered, so softly that Blaine almost didn't hear him over the sounds of the coffee machines behind the counter. "I don't know what that's like."
It was such a low blow, and Blaine wanted to apologize. Nothing hurt Kurt more than the reminder of the dream that Ian had broken to pieces, the one that Kurt had allowed his husband to push off the list, like it didn't matter.
But everything was derailing so quickly that the apology died before it reached his lips. Blaine could see his whole life crumbling and he didn't know how to stop it. He thought of Jack taking Lena and Theo away from him, of not getting to see his children every day, of having to put them through a divorce, and he felt like scum. They didn't deserve that. They deserved a happy childhood.
Kurt looked away for a moment, and it looked like he was fighting tears. It broke Blaine's heart, but he felt powerless to stop it. "It's selfish of me to ask you this," he said. "And I know that, Blaine. But… I love you. That's the only thing that makes sense in my life anymore."
And Blaine wanted to tell him that it was the only thing, aside from his kids, that made sense in his life at the moment, too. But he couldn't, because admitting that meant he was opening a door to giving Kurt what he was asking of him, and Blaine wasn't brave enough to take that step. He wasn't selfish enough to hurt his babies for his own happiness.
"I'm not in love with you."
But he was enough of a coward, enough of a bad person to hurt Kurt.
Kurt deflated, like those words finally drained him for good, and he sat back, practically slumping against the seat. "I see," he whispered.
Blaine couldn't look at him. "I'm sorry," he said, and it felt short, so short, after everything that had happened between them.
Kurt smiled, but it was the fakest, most miserable smile Blaine had ever seen. "It's okay. I can't force you to love me. It was stupid of me to assume…" he shook his head. "It's fine. Of course you're not in love with me. It's not like I have anything to offer you."
There was a voice screaming in Blaine's head, so loud that it drowned out every thought he had. His chest ached. "I should go," he said, and the voice screamed even louder.
He ignored it.
Kurt took a deep breath and nodded. "Goodbye, Blaine," he said, like he knew it was the last time he was going to see him.
It had to be. It had all gone too far.
Blaine tried to say goodbye. The words choked him. He couldn't. "I'm sorry, Kurt," he said again, because it was the only sincere thing he could say right now. "I'm really sorry."
Kurt glanced away, towards the window, arms going around himself like he was trying to keep himself from falling apart. He didn't say another word. He had said everything he had to say.
And Blaine hadn't said anything at all, not really.
Only lies.
He left the coffee house and walked all the way home choosing not to acknowledge the tears that streamed down his cheeks and the sob that was stuck in his throat.
If it had been the right thing to do, why did it hurt this badly?
I don't know why I said, "I'm not in love with you."
So, uh… I'll see you next week?
L.-