Happy Wednesday!

I'm going to pretend you aren't all glaring at me after last week's chapter and simply give you this new chapter as a peace offering :)

Thanks to Christine and Sofi for being the best team ever.

The song in this chapter is I'm not Leaving (part 2!)

Enjoy!

On days like this you wonder what true love is
Does it even exist, the kiss, the prince, the story for kids?
But that same big heart that right now is hurting so hard
Is the ladder you'll climb when you touch the stars

"Excuse me, sir? We're closing."

Kurt looked away from the window feeling like he was sort of in a daze. He blinked at the waitress standing there awkwardly, watching him like she thought something was clearly wrong with him.

"Oh, sorry," he said, and he couldn't recognize his own voice. "I'm leaving now."

He stood up slowly. His body complained, as if it was too much of an effort after being in the same position for too many hours without moving an inch. He hadn't even finished his coffee. It sat there, mug half empty, cold.

Part of him had thought that, if he was patient, if he stayed there, Blaine would come back.

He had imagined that, on his way home, Blaine would see what he had been too afraid to see while they were sitting there together. His heart would break at the idea of never seeing Kurt again. He would think of the loveless marriage he had with Jack, and he would turn around and run back to the coffee house and kiss Kurt within an inch of his life. He would say the words that Kurt had longed to hear for months now.

Everything would fall into place. Right?

Except it hadn't, because Kurt had waited, and Blaine wasn't there.

Had he made it all up in his head? Had he seen love where there was only lust? Maybe that was Blaine had been looking for, and Kurt had made a mess of everything, thinking there were feelings involved. Maybe Blaine just wanted to get what he wasn't getting from his husband elsewhere.

It hadn't felt like that, though. It had felt so, so real…

But Kurt didn't exactly know what was even real anymore.

His life had fallen apart and there was no one to blame for it but himself. Maybe this was nothing more than what he deserved – he had cheated on his husband, had broken all the promises he had made to him, and had bought into the stupid idea that he could have a new beginning with Blaine. But why would Blaine want a new beginning with him?

Kurt left the coffee house and walked aimlessly around the city for a while, not knowing where to go. He wasn't eager to get home to his empty apartment. His friends were busy with their perfect little families. He was the only one who had nothing and no one to go home to.

The ache in his chest was so intense he had to stop and lean against the wall of a clothing boutique for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He had ruined everything.

And there was no way to fix any of it.

The bottle of tequila hit the desk so harshly and so unexpectedly that Kurt startled and almost knocked his phone off. He blinked owlishly at Isabelle, who was standing there with an arched eyebrow, looking half curious, half concerned, and fully compassionate.

"You look like shit," she said, so lovingly that Kurt almost felt like she was complimenting him. "And you've looked like that all day. At first I thought you probably hadn't slept well and that a cup of coffee would fix it, but…" she glanced around the office, at the dozen coffee mugs in different stages of completion. "Well, it seems like I was wrong."

Kurt groaned and let his head fall on his arms on top of the desk. "I doubt tequila will have a different effect, honestly."

"If you don't feel well, you can call in sick, you know?" She said, as she slid into the chair across from him. "Just because you've just started here…"

"I'm not sick," Kurt retorted. He peeked at her through his arms, not really feeling like sitting up. "I'm just… well, my life is a fucking mess."

"I sort of figured," she said with a commiserative little grin. "You should have gone home like two hours ago and yet you're still here. If I had seen you work on some project with that same old Hummel enthusiasm I know and love, I would have thought you were just too caught up in the work and lost track of time. But you've mostly sat there looking miserable. So I take it it's not that you forgot to go home. You just don't want to go."

Kurt took a deep breath. Most of his energy throughout the day had been spent on reminding himself to breathe. As if that would make a difference. "Ian saw me coming out of a hotel with Blaine. We had a big argument and we're getting a divorce. And Blaine dumped me, too."

Isabelle stared at him for a moment. She deflated, and if she looked like he had just slapped her, he didn't want to even imagine what he looked like. She didn't say anything for what felt like a very long time, but when she did, she reached for the bottle: "Yup, we need this."

She poured it into the two little shot glasses she had brought and pushed one across the desk towards Kurt. They both downed it in one gulp, and she immediately poured a second one.

"I'm sorry," she said after that one was gone too. "How are you? Which I know is a stupid question, but answer it anyway, as honestly as you can."

"I feel…" Kurt murmured, slowly, like he couldn't find the right word. "Devastated," he said at last.

Isabelle pushed the third shot towards him. "Understandable. Do you want to tell me all about it?"

So Kurt did, mostly because he hoped talking about it would help him make sense of it. He thought maybe retracing his steps as he told Isabelle what had happened would help him see where he had gone wrong with Blaine, the things he had done and the things he had said to push him away, what Blaine had done to make him think he would love him back…

"Hey," Isabelle murmured when he stopped abruptly, lost in thought, searching and searching and searching for every mistake he had made. He glanced up at her, overwhelmed. "I don't think you did anything wrong with Blaine. I think he's just… you know, scared."

"He doesn't love me. That doesn't make him scared, it probably makes him smart," Kurt said, reaching for the bottle to pour some more tequila.

She put it away from him. "Wait. The alcohol was a bad idea. You clearly need to be thinking straight and this isn't helping."

Kurt shrugged. "I think I'm finally thinking straight, actually. I think I'm finally seeing things the way they are. I'm finally realizing that love isn't some sort of fairy tale and that it's not the kind of thing that can conquer all. Love sometimes is messy and stupid and makes you do things you didn't think you were capable of. It makes you vicious and selfish and…"

"Kurt," Isabelle interrupted, frowning. She looked worried again. "You're none of those things."

Kurt snorted. Somewhere along the way, he must have become that and more. Otherwise he wouldn't have done the things he did to Ian. Otherwise, Blaine would love him.

She sighed sadly. "Hey, why don't you take a few days off? You could go to Ohio to see your dad. I know how much it helps you, to be around him."

But Kurt shook his head. The last thing he wanted now was for his dad to see him like this. "No, it's okay. I'd rather stay and work, and find something else to focus on."

"Are you sure?" She asked. "Because it would be completely fine if that's what you need."

What he needed, he couldn't have.

"I'm sure," he said, and tried to find a smile for her, so she would believe him.

He failed, just like he kept failing at everything else.

Hold my hand just like you used to do
I'm not leaving, I'm not leaving
Throw it up, baby you're all mixed up
I'm not leaving, I'm not leaving

"Why do you look sad?"

Blaine paused as he was tucking Lena into bed and looked at his daughter. She was frowning slightly, like she was trying to figure out something that was too hard. She looked insanely adorable in her bunny pajamas, but there was something in her eyes, something that made her seemed older than she was, and Blaine didn't like it one bit – not because he didn't want her to be wise and perceptive, but because she was just a little girl, and he didn't want her innocence tainted by grown-up sorrows.

"I'm fine, baby. You never have to worry about daddy, alright?" He said, brushing her curls off her forehead.

Lena kept frowning. "But if you're sad we should do something to fix it, don't you think?"

"Lena…" Blaine started to say, but she interrupted him.

"Would it make you happy again if I clean my room tomorrow?" She asked, and he laughed, unable to stop himself.

"Well, it's always nice when you're responsible, and it's a good thing when you take care of your own stuff, but…" Blaine stopped. "Like I said, you don' need to worry about me."

"I don't like it when you're sad, though," she commented.

Blaine hesitated. "Sometimes I can't help it, baby. Sometimes I'm just… sad."

"For something I did?"

"No."

"For something Theo did?"

"No."

"For something papa did?"

Blaine didn't like lying to his children. But he lied this time: "No."

It was only half a lie, really. It had barely anything to do with Jack anymore, and a lot to do with Kurt. He had made his own decision. He had pushed Kurt away. Now he had to live with it.

And with the voice in his head that hadn't stopped screaming since he had walked out of the coffee house.

She lifted her hand and poked his nose, making him smile despite the ache that seemed to keep spreading across his chest. "I want you to be happy, daddy."

It took everything he had not to burst into tears right there and then.

He kept the smile on his face and leaned in to kiss her forehead. "I love you so much. Did you know that?"

She grinned up at him. She was missing a tooth that had fallen out yesterday and that only made her look more adorable. "I love you too."

"We can do something fun this weekend," he proposed, hoping it would distract her a bit. "Maybe go to the movies? Whatever you want."

"Yes!" She exclaimed, excited.

This was the kind of thing he needed to fill his life with, so he wouldn't think about what he had lost. Had he even lost it, really, when he had never had it? Kurt had never been his, and he had never been Kurt's, not in the way they had tried to pretend, at least. They had played with fire and they had gotten burned.

It didn't matter that the flames had felt good. Now everything around them was charred and ruined.

He ran his fingers through Lena's curls and then cupped her face gently. He felt so overwhelmed. "I'm always going to be right here for you and your brother. You two are my everything."

She frowned slightly, like she could sense something was wrong, but she still couldn't quite figure out what it was or what to do about it. But then she smiled again. "I know," she whispered.

As long as they were happy, Blaine could carry his own pain, no matter how heavy the burden got.

The rest of the week went by in a blur, every day blending into the next one. Kurt focused on work and, though Isabelle kept an eye on him as if she feared he was going to break in a million pieces at any given time, he managed to push the heartbreak down, down, down, until he could get through being at the office without feeling like he was going to burst into tears.

At night, though, it wasn't so easy.

The apartment was empty, which shouldn't have felt as strange as it did, because Ian had barely been home to begin with. But now Kurt was aware of every dark little corner, of every second of silence, of how his steps echoed as he moved down the hallway to a bed he had no one to share with.

When he got home on Friday night, he stopped just past the doorway and stared. It was emptier than usual – it was obvious that Ian had been there today, and he had taken stuff with him: his favorite reading chair was no longer by the fireplace; the bookshelves were now practically desolate, only a few of Kurt's books here and there; some of the stuff in the kitchen was missing too, including the microwave and the coffee machine. Petra sat in the middle of his bedroom when he came in, looking nervous – she probably had no idea what the hell was going on.

Ian's side of the closet had no clothes left. There was nothing on his bedside table.

So this was what a finished marriage looked like, Kurt realized. Emptiness. Should he have seen the signs all along? Their home had been emptier for longer than it should have been. How many nights Kurt had gotten home, just like this, only to find that Ian wasn't there waiting for him?

They had lived together but there had been times when their lives barely brushed against each other, like coexisting was just a collateral effect. Kurt wondered where they had gone wrong, but the answers he found only made him sadder: they should have never been married in the first place, even if they had loved each other, in the beginning. They had never meant to be together. They had never belonged.

They had gotten it all wrong.

And then he saw it, propped against the lamp on his bedside table. It was an attorney's business card, Ian's quick handwriting on the little white space left on it: Have your lawyer call my lawyer.

And that was it. Over eight years of marriage and this was what it came down to. And there was no one to blame for it but himself.

He sat on the edge of the bed, Petra sleeping on his lap, the little business card in his hand, for the rest of the night.

The next morning, though, Kurt knew he couldn't just sit there. The past few days had been a nightmare and he couldn't keep sitting with his thoughts. He needed a distraction, something that would hold him together until he went back to work on Monday. He thought about calling his friends, but then decided against it: Santana and Brittany were still wrapped up in the bliss of having Robin, and Rachel would never understand. They all had everything they had ever wanted; they wouldn't understand what it was like, to make wrong decision after wrong decision until you weren't sure what you were supposed to do anymore.

And he couldn't call his dad. No matter how understanding Burt Hummel could be, Kurt still felt embarrassed.

So he went out, by himself, after a long shower that he knew did nothing to make him look less like shit. He went for a cup of coffee, but he didn't dare go to the coffee house he and Blaine used to go to together, so he stopped at the first Starbucks he came across instead. And then he walked. He walked through the park and walked down Fifth Avenue, and walked towards Times Square to get lost amongst the tourists. He stopped at noon for a sandwich, even though he wasn't actually hungry, but because it filled his time, and right now it was all that mattered. He walked aimlessly for a while, not knowing where to go, because he wasn't wanted anywhere.

It was a hard truth to live with.

It was a cruel coincidence, he thought, that he ended up deciding to go see a movie, because as soon as he went inside the movie theatre and stood in the lobby to see what his options were, he saw Blaine buying popcorn for his children, Lena bouncing up and down in excitement, Theo kicking his feet inside his stroller.

Kurt stood there and watched them, like they were a beautiful vision, an oasis in the middle of a desert after he had wandered through it for too long without a drop of water or an inch of shade.

And then he saw Jack, coming from the restrooms, joining his family, reaching down to wrap his arms around Lena and pick her up, making her squeal, her laughter resounding everywhere, getting to Kurt as if she was standing right next to him.

But Kurt was alone, and Blaine had been right not to give this up for him. They really were perfect, if you looked past the cracks, barely visible unless you knew they were there.

He should have left. He should have walked away, because the pain cut too deep, made breathing hard, and he'd had enough of it already. His previous wounds hadn't even stopped bleeding yet, and this was a new one, and he couldn't deal with more.

But he didn't, because he was an idiot. Because he couldn't move. Because walking away from Blaine had never been an option.

Jack started walking away with Lena, and Kurt could see her talking excitedly, like she couldn't wait for the movie they were going to watch. Blaine gave the popcorn bucket to Theo to hold, and the boy immediately dug in. Blaine smiled as he grabbed their drinks and then he turned around to follow his husband…

And found Kurt standing there.

Even though they were too far away, Kurt could have sworn he heard Blaine's sharp intake of breath. That was when he should have left, but it was like he had grown roots in the middle of the movie theatre and he couldn't move his feet, rip them away, run. He should have run. It hurt too much to see him.

Blaine had chosen this. Of course he had chosen it. This beautiful family was a much smarter choice. Even if Jack wasn't a perfect husband, who would have said Kurt would have been better for him? After all, he had broken things in his own marriage too. There were no guarantees. Blaine had been wise to choose what he chose. He had the most precious thing he could have ever had. Kurt would have never even gotten close.

But even though he had been right to pick this, Kurt watched his face fall, and Blaine looked so devastated that Kurt felt all of his pain was reflected in Blaine's eyes.

Kurt never wanted him to look like that. He never wanted Blaine to feel what he was feeling.

He lifted his hand and waved briefly, forcing a little smile on his face. He wanted Blaine to know there were no hard feelings. He supported his decision.

Blaine waved back but he didn't smile. He looked like he was about to take a step towards him, and Kurt held his breath, the anticipation making his heart beat faster, because if Blaine came to him, if they talked again, if he could touch him, even if it was just a brush of fingers, a little hug…

Theo almost dropped the bucket of popcorn, distracting Blaine, making him look away from Kurt. And it was as if now that Blaine's eyes were no longer on him, Kurt was released from the spell and he could move again.

He had to leave. He couldn't be here. He couldn't get his heart broken again, not when it was still split and bleeding and mangled.

So before Blaine had time to look away from his son, Kurt turned around and left the movie theatre. He had nowhere to go, but he didn't care.

He had to run away from heartbreak or he would never recover.

Show me that dreamer I love
Let me see the fire in your eyes
Let the moment pass, sleep a while here in my arms
'Cause I'm not leaving

"It's our anniversary this week."

Blaine blinked, like he was confused by the words, like he wasn't quite sure what they meant, as he looked away from the tests he was grading. Jack was standing in the doorway. The apartment was quiet, which meant that the kids were finally down. Blaine had hoped to get a few more tests graded before he called it a day.

He had trouble sleeping lately. At least he could use the time more wisely than staring at the ceiling in the dark, waiting for sleep to come.

Jack looked sheepish, like he wasn't sure what to do with what he had said, like he was a little embarrassed to bring it up.

Trying. Always trying. That was good, right? Blaine had chosen to spend the rest of his life trying with a man he wasn't sure he loved anymore, with a man he wasn't sure loved him anymore. So it was good that they were trying.

At least until the kids were old enough not to be hurt by their parents' mistakes.

Blaine didn't like to think about it. He kept shoving those thoughts away, hoping they would stop coming if he kept rejecting them.

He sat back on the couch and looked at his husband. "Yeah, you're right. I hadn't noticed the date."

"I could…" Jack started, hesitation dripping from every syllable. "I could get a reservation at a nice restaurant? Maybe we can get Cooper to watch the kids?"

Sitting at a restaurant with Jack, without the kids, having to find things to talk about, having to pretend that nothing was wrong, that they were actually happy to celebrate one more year together… it sounded like some sort of torture, because he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it would expose everything that was wrong with them.

What would they do when they could no longer pretend?

But it was part of the trying. And if Jack was willing to do his part, then Blaine had to do the same.

"That sounds nice," he said with a little smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'll talk to Coop."

When he did, the following day during his lunch break, Cooper was so skeptical about it that Blaine almost regretted asking for his help.

"You're going to celebrate another anniversary with him," he said, as if that was the craziest thing he had ever heard.

"Yes, Coop. We're married. That's what married people do," Blaine replied, so tired that he just wanted to crawl under his desk and sleep for a million years.

"Are you both still sleeping with other guys, though?" Cooper asked, and he hated that his older brother could be such an irritable asshole sometimes. "Because I'm pretty sure married people don't do that."

Blaine couldn't answer for Jack – he had his doubts whether Eddie was still in the picture or not. But he could answer for himself: "Not anymore"

Cooper was silent, and Blaine knew there was going to be some sort of talk in the future. Cooper wasn't exactly good at keeping his thoughts to himself.

Still, though, he agreed to watch the kids, and Blaine thanked him. He wanted to be optimistic and believe that having dinner with his husband on their anniversary was bound to be a step in the right direction: maybe they would talk and remember why they had fallen in love with each other in the first place. Maybe they could rekindle their love. Maybe whatever had been broken could still be fixed.

Blaine was even more optimistic when they arrived at the restaurant. Jack had made reservations at the same place where they'd had their very first date, too many years ago. It looked a bit different now, but Blaine was warmed by the thought Jack had put into it.

Maybe their anniversary could be a new beginning. Maybe they could actually make it.

They ordered the same food they had ordered that night and spent the first half of the evening commenting on it, comparing it to what they remembered. It seemed safer to stick to topics like that, and then they moved to talking about the kids, because that was just as safe.

But by the time their plates were empty, they both fell silent, and they avoided looking at each other's eyes, like they were afraid the masks would fall if they made eye contact. They would see right through everything they weren't saying.

Whatever spark had been there when they got married was gone. Blaine wasn't sure what had killed it – the routine, having kids, being too busy, meeting people who actually made their insides melt. It could have been anything.

He thought of Kurt, standing in the middle of that movie theatre, looking at Blaine like everything Blaine held in his hands was exactly what he needed to keep going. He had never seen Kurt like he had seen him that day – he had seemed hollow, sad, exhausted.

I'm not in love with you.

Blaine had never told a bigger lie.

For a moment he had looked at him, almost within reach, and he had wished he could run into his arms – just one more time, just hold him one more time, just feel the warmth of his body against his own one more time, just a brush of lips that would feel like a breath of fresh air one more time, just that electricity travelling between them, the one that made them both feel so alive, one more time… – and then he had glanced down at his son and when he tried to look at Kurt again, there was nothing but empty space, and for a second or two, Blaine had wondered if he had imagined him standing there, if maybe his heart was so desperate for him that he was conjuring up visions to fill the void he felt inside…

Lying was such a heavy weight. Blaine lifted his eyes and let them fall on his husband and thought of having to lie for years and years, until the kids were no longer kids, until they both could deal with their ruined marriage without hurting Lena and Theo. He was so exhausted. He had to drag that weight behind him for the next fifteen, sixteen years at least and he was so, so exhausted…

"Should we get some dessert?" Jack asked, and it was obvious he was as desperate as Blaine was to fill the silence that allowed them to think too much. "Maybe we can get something for the kids…"

"I cheated on you," he blurted out, shocking even himself. He inhaled sharply, not having expected those words to come out of his mouth. Jack's eyes snapped towards him, wide.

The truth was out now, and the weight got a little lighter.

Maybe he just needed to keep going.

"And before you get all high and mighty and tell me what a terrible person I am," he continued, reaching for the napkin, picking at it, breaking little pieces, just like he had broken little pieces of his own life and his own heart all of these months, "you should know that I know about Eddie. I know you've been cheating on me, too. I don't know how long that went on, but definitely longer than what I did…. well, that doesn't matter. Cheating is cheating and duration doesn't have anything to do with it. But I cheated on you. And you cheated on me. And I think it's pretty safe to say we don't really love each other anymore."

Jack was stunned and still, like he had turned to stone at Blaine's confession.

Blaine smiled sadly at him. Now that he had started, what was the point in holding back? "We're miserable, Jack, look at us. We can't even have dinner together without looking like we wished we were somewhere else. So we need to make a decision. We need to decide if we can do this, if we can stay married and get along and find some sort of happiness, for our children. But we need to stop lying to each other, because I can't take it anymore. I can't live like this."

If they acknowledged their unhappiness, maybe they could find common ground. Maybe they could work towards having a less miserable life. Maybe they could come up with a plan to keep their family together, to stop hurting each other with all these lies, with all the hiding, all the going behind each other's backs…

Jack exhaled shakily, as if he had been holding his breath through every single one of Blaine's words. "Well, fuck," he said in a mere whisper. "How long have you known?"

Blaine shrugged. "September," he said. "I accidentally saw a message on your phone. I didn't mean to, I was just making the bed and… well, that doesn't matter, either. And then I saw you together, too, in the park. That was probably… in November, I think?"

Jack blinked, looking like he didn't believe it. "And you never said anything?"

Blaine grabbed his glass of wine and downed the contents in one big gulp. "Nope. I didn't know how. I was… I was scared. I didn't know what it would mean for our family, for Theo and Lena. I didn't know if it was just a quick affair that you would get out of your system before you went back to normal…"

Running a hand through his hair, resigned, Jack said: "I'm in love with him."

It didn't hurt at all, the admission, Blaine realized. He had known long ago. "I know," he muttered. "It was obvious from the way you looked at him."

"But we're not together anymore," Jack hurried to clarify. "I… I broke up with him before Christmas. And then I… I briefly got back together with him, but it was… it was just weakness. I broke things off again right after. I told him I needed to do what was best for my children."

"So did I," Blaine said sadly.

"I'm just…" Jack paused and shook his head. "I'm just not sure whether both of us being this miserable is what's best for the kids, though. They're not stupid. They notice things."

"Lena already asked me what was wrong," Blaine told him. "She's smart and she pays attention. We might be able to fool Theo a little longer, but with her… it's too hard."

"Do you think we can do this?" Jack asked, an edge of desperation in his voice. "Play it nice for them for the next decade or longer?"

They had been having the same concerns, then. It was good, at least, that they were on the same page in that aspect.

"I don't know," Blaine said. "Probably not. It's bound to take a toll on us. And on them."

"Okay," Jack muttered. He paused once more, looking at Blaine more intensely than he had looked at him in months. Then he seemed to make a decision. "Everything's on the table now. We're telling the truth. So here's mine: Eddie is the love of my life, Blaine. I didn't think it was possible for this to happen, but it happened. Staying away from him is slowly killing me and I know it's killing him, too. Every day is… it's like a little piece of me is getting ripped out and I need to learn how to live with the pain, how to keep going even though a chunk of me is missing and it's getting bigger every day. I thought it would get easier, that I would move on, but so far it's been the opposite."

Blaine understood. God, Blaine didn't think he had ever understood something as well as he understood what Jack was telling him now.

Kurt at that movie theatre – he looked like a part of him was missing, too. Like the pain was only getting worse and worse each day.

"Yeah…" Blaine whispered. "Yeah, that's what it feels like."

Jack groaned. "Shit. I really thought that what you and I had was unbeatable. Where did we go wrong?"

"I've been asking myself that same question for a while now," Blaine said. He wasn't sure he cared about the answer anymore, though. It didn't matter why they had gone wrong.

What mattered was that there seemed to be no point of return anymore. Just like the napkin Blaine had turned to shreds on the table top, they couldn't put their marriage back together, could they?

"What's his name?" Jack asked then.

"Kurt," Blaine replied. "Kurt Hummel."

He watched Jack's face change, from doubt to certainty, as he processed the name. "Wait. Isn't that the author Lena loves? The one she has us reading to her pretty much every night?"

Blaine bit his lip and nodded. "The one and only."

"What the hell, Blaine?" Jack exclaimed, looking angry for the first time all night. "You introduced our kids to him?"

Blaine lifted his hands, like he was trying to defend himself. "Not intentionally. We ran into each other in the street and the kids were with me. That wasn't a line I wanted to cross, Jack. I didn't want to get the kids involved in it. I was careful about it, but it just happened. I'm sorry."

Jack deflated. "Well, I guess I can't really blame you for it, even if I'm not particularly thrilled that our kids met your lover…"

"I promise it was an accident. That's not the kind of person I am," Blaine said. "Not the kind of father I am, really."

"I know," Jack whispered. "You've always been such a great father."

"You too," Blaine said, and now his smile was genuine. "That's the one thing we got right, huh?"

"Too bad we screwed up everything else," Jack replied, with a little smile of his own.

They stared at each other wistfully. Jack reached across the table and grabbed Blaine's hand. Maybe that was the most physical contact they'd had in a very, very long time.

"What are we going to do?" He wanted to know.

Blaine shrugged. He had asked himself the same question for months, until it stopped having meaning, until he realized he didn't have the slightest idea of what was next. "What do you want to do?" He asked instead.

Jack squeezed his hand. "It's not working, is it? The past few months we both denied ourselves what we really wanted, and what did it get us? Heartbreak, misery. We did it to protect the kids, but in the end we might end up causing them more harm…"

There was a knot in Blaine's throat, and it was hard talking without feeling like it was choking him. "I don't want them to suffer, but… it would be worse if we kept trying and failing, wouldn't it? We would just hate each other in the end."

"Yeah," Jack said sadly. "I think our family deserves better. I think we deserve better, Blaine. We were good together. Now we're not. It's no one's fault."

"We cheated," Blaine retorted bitterly. "Isn't it kind of our fault?"

"I think we both know perfectly well that sometimes you can't choose who you fall in love with," Jack said. "It happens. That's all."

Blaine nodded. His eyes fell on their intertwined hands. Once upon a time, whenever Jack held his hand, he felt like he could put up with anything the world threw at him. He had felt protected and supported, knowing someone was there for him, to hold his hand through it all.

Now he knew he could put his children's hands in Jack's hands, and that they would be protected and supported, but it didn't feel like that for him anymore.

Their hands weren't meant to hold each other anymore.

Jack kissed his knuckles, like he had done when they were dating, when tender gestures like that happened all the time, and let go, for the last time. "This is it, then."

"I think it is," Blaine said. "We need to… we need to make sure the kids know we love them and it has nothing to do with them, though. We need to still be in each other's corners, for their sakes."

"I know," Jack said. "There's a lot we need to figure out. We don't need to figure it all out tonight, but… we need to be open to talk and make the best decisions when it comes to them."

Sadness had been spreading through Blaine steadily, until it was all he could feel, because despite the fact that their marriage had been a mess for a while now, it sucked that it had to end, and that something they had believed would be forever had stopped having the same meaning it had in the beginning. The end of love was sorrowful, no matter the circumstances.

"This doesn't have to be the end of our family, though," Blaine said. "We… we will always be Lena's and Theo's fathers. We will always be a family, even if we aren't together."

"Of course," Jack smiled at him softly. "And just because we're separating doesn't mean we don't love each other. Because I do love you, Blaine. I will always love you. I'm just… I'm not in love with you anymore."

I'm not in love with you.

"Yeah, me neither," Blaine murmured. "I'm not in love with you."

This time, it wasn't a lie.

Right alongside the sadness, Blaine realized, there was a hint of relief. It was nice to get to be honest, at last, to know exactly where he was standing with Jack. He knew the road ahead was still as uncertain as it had been ten minutes ago, but now at least he knew they both wanted the same thing, and that they were heading in the same direction.

He cleared his throat and poured himself a bit more wine. "So, uh… are you going to call Eddie and let him know?"

Jack sighed and ran a hand down his face. He looked almost as tired as Blaine felt. "I guess? I don't know. Maybe I'm too late. I broke his heart when I ended things and I would understand if he didn't want anything to do with me."

It was all hitting a little too close to home. "I understand."

"What about you?" Jack asked. "Are you going to call Kurt? If you two get together, though… don't let him become Lena's favorite. That would absolutely break my heart."

Jack said it like a joke, like Blaine was supposed to laugh, but he couldn't.

"I think I screwed it up a little too much with him," Blaine said quietly. "I'm not sure I'd get another chance."

Jack nodded. He didn't ask any more questions. It was too soon to be talking to each other about the men they were really in love with. It felt like they had to hold a mourning period for their own love, even if it had died a while ago, while none of them were ready to admit it yet.

And then Jack laughed, a sound that was half incredulous, half bitter. When Blaine looked at him, frowning, he said: "It's sort of ironic that it's all ending right when we were supposed to celebrate the day it began, isn't it?"

So Blaine laughed too, because it truly was ironic.

They drank their wine, and they contemplated the end, but they didn't say another word.

They had said everything they needed to say, for now.

Hold my hand just like you used to do
I'm not leaving, I'm not leaving
Throw it up, baby you're all mixed up
I'm not leaving, I'm not leaving

I honestly cannot wait to hear what you guys think of this one!

See you next week!

L.-