6. FIRST DAY AFTER (III)
You open your front door way more hurriedly than necessary, only to find Quinn there with her arms crossed over her chest. You know she is mad at you, she is not even trying to hide it, but you are grateful that she is here now. You don't know how long you could have fought Santana's advances without succumbing into the temptation. So even if Quinn looks like she's about to bite your head off like a praying mantis, her presence is actually a blessing.
"Quinn." You say and offer her a smile. It's a truce offering, and she seems to accept it, because she ends up smiling back at you. You both have more important things to handle right now.
You step aside to let your friend in, closing and locking the door once she is inside, and you silently guide her to the living room, where you last left Santana. You hope she didn't sneak away on you, you don't want Quinn doubting on your mental health or thinking you are imagining things. Thankfully, Santana is still sitting on your couch. She turns her head as she hears footsteps and rises her eyebrow when she sees that you are not alone anymore.
"Quinn, this is Santana Keat-"
"Lopez." She interrupts you and you look at her with a confused frown. "Santana Lopez." She introduces herself looking at Quinn and suddenly it hits you. Lopez must be her maiden name. You open your mouth in a small but perfect 'O', and she almost chuckles when she turns her look back at you. Actually Lopez fits her better, you think.
"Quinn Fabray." You hear the blonde reply politely and when you look at her, she is taking a seat on your armchair, opposite to the couch where Santana is. They are looking at each other like they are seizing each other up. Well, Santana is. Quinn is probably just reading her mind or whatever the shit is that she do that makes her such a good shrink.
"Are all your friends just as hot as you are, or is it just the blondes?" Santana asks and you see Quinn rising her eyebrow from the corner of your eye, but she is clearly amused, you can see her lips curling slightly upwards.
"Mike has awesome abs and he is Chinese, so not blonde. And Mercedes is really pretty too even if she is thicker in shape, and she is black..." You start, listing all your close friends in your mind. Actually, Santana might have a point, but you shut your mouth as soon as you realise you are rambling.
"Santana, I'm here to help." Quinn interjects, effectively gaining Santana's attention. "I am a psychiatrist and I am a specialist in domestic violence." At that, you see Santana crossing her arms protectively again.
"I'll leave you two alone." You mumble before turning around and walking to the kitchen. You know that if anyone is going to get anything out of Santana, that will be Quinn. And you really don't want to eavesdrop, but you really want to know what is going on with her. So your curiosity ends up taking the best of you, and you end up leaving the kitchen's door open. That way you can hear what they are talking about, even if you need to pay close attention to not miss anything.
"Santana, no one here is going to judge you." You hear Quinn say. "Were you the one to ask Brittany to take you here?"
"What? No. That was all on her." Santana says, and you hear her huff offended. "I was scared and called 911. It's not the first time, okay? I know how this goes. The ambulance should have taken me to the hospital and that's about it. But I'm not stupid either. I know Nate is not going to find me here, so I asked her to stay."
"Who is Nate?"
"My husband." The brunette answers curtly.
"How long have you two been married?" You know Quinn is full on shrink mode, but she is always so empathetic and she knows so well how to conduct a conversation that you are sure even Sadam Hussein would have told her his deepest secrets.
"Nine years." You frown at that. Santana looks very young, younger than you.
"That's a long time. Do you love him?" Quinn asks, and for some reason you are not sure if you want to know the answer.
"It's more of a love-hate thing." Santana says. "I love him, I care deeply for him, as much as I hate him and he hates me. He has cared for me the most, but he has also destroyed me." She elaborates, and it sounds very confusing.
"Are you in love with him?"
"I never was. I can't. That's why he hates me." You know you are about to discover what has happened to her.
"You can't? Why is that? You say you love him".
"I married him at seventeen. I had just finished high school, but I wouldn't turn eighteen till the fall that year. Anyway, we had been dating for a couple years and when he proposed I said yes. He was always a nice guy, he was funny, and my parents loved him more than they loved me, so it was the convenient thing to do." She says and you take a deep breath. You know you shouldn't be spying on them, that is a private conversation after all, but you have never been patient and you need to understand her.
"That's not what I asked you."
"I can't be in love with him, because I'm gay." Santana says and you lose grip on the mug you were holding (how did that even happen? you don't remember grabbing it), letting it fall to the floor and watching it shatter in a million pieces. Busted. You automatically busy yourself on the stove in case someone comes see what happened, but no one does, and when you are sure of it, you go back to listening to the conversation.
"Oh." You hear Quinn say. Apparently she didn't see that coming either. A lot of things start making sense now, though.
"Yeah. You got a problem with that?" Santana snarls.
"Not at all." Quinn answers. "How long has been Nate hitting you?"
"Five years, I guess." Your heart clenches at that information. You still can't understand why she simply hasn't left him. "The first time he put his hands on me was when he found out I'm gay." She continues, and you can hear the sadness in her voice.
"How did he find out?"
"He caught me fucking his coworker. I couldn't do anything else but tell him."
"And he didn't want a divorce?" You wondered why Quinn hadn't asked her why didn't she ask for a divorce, or why she married him in the first place; but she is the expert after all.
"His reputation is too important to him. We were the perfect couple from the outside. We still are. He's not going to jeopardise that."
"Have you always known you are gay?"
"I had my first girl crush at eleven. So yeah, I guess I did."
Everything is silent for a couple of minutes. You never understood Quinn methods, so you believe she is reading Santana's mind again.
"I haven't cheated on him again, but that once was so humiliating to him and he was so ashamed he had hit me, it made him start drinking and snorting cocaine. He said it was to forget his pain, but it only led to him being more angry and hitting me, harder every time."
How has Quinn be able to make such a bond with Santana in such a little time is a mystery to you, but you are glad she did, because it's clear that Santana needs someone to talk to. The moment you hear a soft sniffle, you decide to take action. You grab three tea cups, some teabags and a jug of hot water (thank God you always keep your kettle on) and you walk back to the living room.
"Hey, I hope I'm not disturbing..." You mutter and you see Santana quickly cleaning a few teardrops from her face, but you decide not to comment on it. "I thought it was a good time for a tea." You add, putting the tray on your coffee table.
"Of course not, Britt." Quinn says warmly, so you take a seat. The only place available is right next to Santana, so that is were you go, trying to keep as much distance between you two as possible. "I think we are done for today." She adds. "But, Santana, I'd love you to come see me at my office some time next week." She says softly, rummaging through her purse and picking up her business card before offering it to Santana.
You see the brunette nodding as she grabs it, but neither of them say anything else. And you don't do either. You just watch them as you sip your tea slowly. The other two girls also grab a cup for themselves, and you three drink your tea in complete silence.
After a while, Quinn gets up from her seat.
"I think it's time for me to go." She says looking at you. "Britt, a word?" she asks you, nodding towards your kitchen, signalling she wants to talk to you alone.
You don't answer, but you get up obediently and follow her to your kitchen, where she closes the door.
"She is in a dark place. I've only scratched the surface." You are surprised by that. Judging by all you heard, it was a pretty deep conversation, but maybe it was just the part Santana was willing to share. You know there is probably more into it. Like the real reason why she keeps going back to him. "Be careful." She adds knowingly.
"I will." You answer, not knowing really what else to say,
"Remember. She has to be gone tomorrow, or I will take actions. I love you, Brittany, but this is probably the riskiest thing you have done. I want to know what has possessed you."
"I'm not possessed." You answer frowning.
"I mean, I want to know your reasons to take her here instead of doing your job. Come see me next week as well." She asks, but you know it's not a petition, so you nod with a sigh.
After your short conversation, you walk Quinn out and sigh once you close your door. It's already the evening and you realise you haven't eaten anything since the breakfast Santana made you, and you are quite hungry. You really don't know how you are going to survive till morning if Santana keeps trying things on you, but you decide to play it cool.
"I'm ordering pizza. Any preference?" You ask as you walk back to the living room, where Santana is still sitting, looking like she was in deep thought. She turns her face to you and you find in her eyes the vulnerable woman that you saw the first time. It really is sad to see her like this. Her powerful side is almost scary, but it's way better than this train wreck you have in front of you.
"Anything works for me." She mumbles as she curls up into a ball, her knees bent against her chest, resting her chin over them.
You don't say anything. You simply order the pizza and do some chores around your house as you wait for it. You keep an eye on Santana, but she looks to be lost in her own world. You don't know what to do, but you choose to just let her be. The past almost 48 hours have been enough for her.
Once the pizza arrives, you, still silently, grab a few slices, put them on a plate and bring them to her. She smiles at you thankfully, and that one is probably the most beautiful smile of hers that you have seen yet. Your hear is doing all kinds of back flips and somersaults, but you decide to ignore it.
"Thank you, Britt." She says softly as you are leaving the room, and the nickname doesn't go unnoticed. It actually makes you smile, but you don't say anything.
The next time you go to the living room to check on Santana, you find she has eaten all the pizza and she has fallen asleep on the couch, her glasses dangerously perched on her nose, about to fall down her face and to the floor. You smile again. It's when she is sleeping when she looks more peaceful, and even more beautiful. You think about carrying her to your bed, but you are not going to risk waking her up, so you take the duvet you slept with the night before and throw it over her, tucking her in. You hear her sigh in contentment, welcoming the warmth. You also take her glasses off so they don't break before you move back to your bedroom.
You are asleep the moment your head touches your pillow.
