Not Over You (Gavin DeGraw)

"How long are you staying?" I asked him as he toweled off, fresh from the shower and trying his best to turn me on. Nobody wipes themselves that slowly and seductively, but I had more important things on my mind.

I knew better than to tell him about the voicemail. Noah would want to dissect it, and I wanted to live in my fantasy a little longer.

"Not too long, maybe two days before I head back. I might be getting my papers soon to be overseas for a while. They have been cherry-picking the guys on base, and since I got my wings, I've ranked higher than any other dude." He looked happy about this development, but my heart was racing, and the bottom was falling from under my feet.

"I can't do this alone." I blurted out. His face went stiff, and then he gave me a terrifying gaze that I hadn't seen since he'd come banging on my door when I didn't show up at Finn's funeral.

It was a bit terrifying.

"Deployed or not, I'm in this, and you heard Merna; she's the country's biggest fan. Going overseas would make her like me, us, even more. At the very least, I can put Beth as my next of kin; she'll have military insurance, and you won't have to worry about footing the bill. Even if I'm not there physically, I will definitely support her financially, even in death. You have my word. You're set to be out of this joint in what two weeks?"

"Three weeks." I said, bowing my head and looking down at my clenched hands. A million scenarios were running through my head as I imagined a life with Beth but no way to care for her. Maybe I wasn't ready.

Doubt was suddenly plaguing me. Was I any better off than when I gave my daughter up in the first place?

"You're amazing; you know that?" He said, as his bare feet stepped into my line of sight just before his big hand cupped my chin and tipped my face up until I looked into his eyes.

The tears I had been holding back slid easily down my cheeks, and I didn't have the energy to fight them.

"I'm not." I insisted.

"You are."

It had been ages since someone looked at me like Puck was doing at that moment, and my insecurities got the best of me.

And him.

My skin burned at his touch, and I couldn't knock away the undeniable feeling of guilt. I felt like I was cheating, and I wasn't sure why. No other person made me feel that way, not the professor or even Asha.

Maybe it was because Puck reminded me so much of Santana that being with him made me feel unfaithful to her.

But I had to let her go.

Puck was there, and Santana wasn't.

Just like the events that led to Beth, I swallowed my feelings and gave in to his touch.

He loved me, and I was only human.

When I had sex with Santana, I walked away feeling more empowered, more self-assured and filled with an incredible lightness that made me feel as if I was going to drift off into space.

Lightness was not a feeling that Noah gave me.

I was anxious and depressed. I also felt dark and dirty.

What was I doing? What had I just done?

My assumption that I was a casual bisexual was shattered, maybe?

I couldn't label it yet, but I can say without a doubt that I know what I'm not.

Not straight.

Not attracted to him.

Not over her.

I left him there, snoring, naked, in my bed. I felt like running.

My mind was already a million steps ahead. It was halfway through a marathon of 'what ifs' and 'maybes' that had me spiraling.

With the moon shining way too brightly for me to sleep and the world on my shoulders, with my mind trained on my daughter, my future, and God help me, Santana, I knew I had to get out of that room that was filled to the brim with Noah and the evidence of what we had just done.

The brief respite before Noah and I took things too far was great only because I was able to go on, ignoring that Santana Lopez existed.

I could ignore the glaring hole in my heart that ached now more than ever.

Of course, because I'm neurotic and polite, I left him a note before slipping away from his overbearing embrace.

My mind just kept comparing her to everyone else, and it wasn't fair.

How could I wipe her away?

As I strolled through the living room, I checked my mail to see what other things I had missed in my three-week manic state.

Unfortunately for me, what I found didn't make anything feel better.

Q-

I wanted a long engagement, but you know B has this way of getting me to do whatever she wants. The invitation (which I'm sure you'll ignore) will be coming soon, and I didn't want you to be blindsided. You won't take my calls or answer my texts, so I'm forced to write this. I love you.

You didn't chase me back. I saw how broken you looked even though you tried to hide it. I'm sorry I didn't tell you first. B made me feel wanted, if I had known that you returned my feelings, I would have given us a shot. I hope you won't stop being my best friend, Q. I love you the most, and that won't ever change.

-S

"Fuck you, Santana. Fuck you for loving me." I muttered out loud, wishing that she was here to answer me.

But this wasn't a romcom.

We'd missed our chance.

Just like always, I hesitated too long.

So now, I had to deal with the consequences of being a coward.

Santana had other priorities, like a fiancée.

Fucking Brittany.

I held tight to that little slip of paper and finally let the tears come. The leaves rustled around me as a strong wind blew, drying my tears before they could make their way down my cheeks.

Losing my chance with Santana hurt almost as much as giving up my child, and I was so tired of the feelings.

And instead of sitting with that pain for another second, I needed her to know how I felt, even though it was too late.

It was the middle of the night, but I didn't care. She was probably sleeping right next to Brittany, but I didn't let it stop me. I needed to talk to her.

Call me. Now.-Q

I knew it was a long shot that she would call me, but I had to try. I stood there looking at my phone, my nerves all shot, and my back starting to ache along my scar line. It had been years since my accident, but the sting of standing remained, especially after sex.

Noah likes to joke that he is good enough in bed to blow a girl's back out. Normally, it's been enough to induce eye-rolling for the duration of his subsequent cackles. Still, right then, as the ache ran from my legs to my spine, his words were all I could think about as my lower back throbbed.

I hated him for not getting me off. This pain hadn't been worth the effort.

Very few people had been able to get me to orgasm. Santana was the exception; gentle and strong, and I had an orgasm every time...I couldn't say the same for Noah.

That's why I loved her. She was everything I wanted and needed, both my poison and antidote.

Who was I to demand this sort of thing from Santana when I was still aching from sex with Puck? She was happy.

Who was I to try and ruin that?