Brett's time in Brooklyn seemed to slip away like sand through his fingers. It felt like he had blinked, and another week had passed, leaving him with a suitcase to pack and a flight back to Miami looming on the horizon. The bittersweet realization hung in the air as he gathered his belongings, the apartment that had become a temporary haven now tinged with the impending departure.
Quinn, bustling around her room to get ready, cast a sympathetic glance at her little brother. "Time flies, doesn't it?" she remarked, the bond of family evident in the shared understanding of the transient nature of their time together.
As Brett zipped up his suitcase and pulled it into the living room, he couldn't shake the pang of reluctance that tugged at him. Santana, sensing Brett's contemplative mood, approached him with a soft smile. She wrapped her arms around him in a comforting hug, her embrace a silent acknowledgment of the impending farewell. Brett, not one to let emotions linger unspoken, deepened the hug into a lingering kiss.
"I'm going to miss you," Brett admitted, his words carrying a weight that mirrored the emotions swirling within him. Santana met his gaze with a sincerity that echoed his sentiment. "I'm going to miss you too" she replied, her brown eyes holding a mixture of fondness and reluctance.
Their lips met in a final exchange of feelings, a farewell kiss that spoke volumes of the connection they had forged amidst the complexities of the past week. "I wish you didn't have to go" Santana confessed, her voice carrying a hint of wistfulness as they pulled away from the kiss.
Brett, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her cheek, mirrored her sentiment. "Me too," he admitted, the sincerity in his voice as one last kiss sealed the shared emotions, a silent promise that lingered in the air.
With Quinn's footsteps approaching, signaling the end of their farewell, Brett and Santana shared a knowing look. "Ready to go?" Quinn asked, her tone carrying a blend of practicality and understanding. Brett, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from Santana, nodded. "Yeah, let's get going."
Santana, masking the undercurrent of sadness with a smile, gave Brett a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Safe travels" she wished him, her words carrying a genuine sentiment that transcended the casual well-wishing.
As they made their way to the door, Quinn leading the way, Santana lingered in the doorway, watching as Brett grabbed his suitcase. Their eyes met one final time, the unspoken connection echoing in the shared glance. With a final exchange of glances, Brett and Quinn headed out of the apartment. As the door closed behind them, Santana couldn't help but feel a sense of longing.
Seven weeks and four days had passed since Brett's departure to Miami, Today, It was Santana's 29th birthday, a day that unfolded with a sense of anticipation and celebration. Having wisely taken the rest of the week off work, Santana found herself with the luxury of time to savor the moments that unfolded on this special day.
As the morning sun filtered through the windows, Santana moved around her apartment with a relaxed pace. The comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as she prepared her morning ritual. The gentle hum of the espresso machine accompanied the rhythmic clinking of mugs, creating a tranquil soundtrack to the start of the day.
Just as Santana reached for her mug, the chime of the doorbell interrupted the peaceful ambiance. A sense of curiosity tugged at her as she approached the door, wondering about the unexpected visitor. As the door swung open, Santana was greeted by the sight of a stunning floral arrangement, a burst of color that adorned the entrance of her apartment.
The bouquet, a meticulous arrangement of pink and red hues, boasted a captivating ensemble of Roses, Fuchsia Carnation, Peach Carnation, and Alstroemeria. The vibrant blossoms nestled in a bronze vase, a harmonious blend of nature's beauty captured in a carefully curated display. Santana couldn't help but be captivated by the thoughtful selection of flowers.
With a delicate touch, she lifted the attached card, revealing a brief but impactful message. "Happy Birthday, B x."
A smile played on Santana's lips as she absorbed the sentiment. The initial "B" resonated with a familiarity that had become a cherished part of her routine. It was Brett, reaching across the miles to extend his wishes on this significant day.
Taking a moment to revel in the beauty of the flowers, Santana felt a wave of gratitude wash over her as she carefully placed the vase containing the beautiful bouquet on the living room table.
With the flowers arranged to perfection, Santana's attention turned to her phone. A quick swipe and tap led her to the familiar interface of FaceTime. As the connection was established, Brett's face illuminated the screen, his infectious smile reaching through the digital divide.
"Happy Birthday, San!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying genuine enthusiasm. "Thank you," Santana replied, her smile mirroring Brett's. She angled the phone to showcase the stunning display of flowers in the background. "Look at these! They're absolutely gorgeous."
Brett's eyes widened with delight as he took in the sight. "I'm glad you like them. I wish I could be there to celebrate with you in person" Santana's gaze lingered on the screen, her expression thoughtful. "Yeah, it's a shame you're so far away. I've got a four-day weekend, and it would have been nice to have you here."
Brett's face softened, a mixture of understanding and longing in his eyes. "I know. I wish I could be there too. But hey, I'll make up for it."
The long weekend stretched ahead of Santana, the prospect of a three-day escape to the Hamptons with her closest girlfriends filled her with anticipation. Quinn, Rachel, Mercedes, and Sugar—all packed into Sugar's car—embarked on the journey from Brooklyn to the lavish retreat that awaited them.
The drive unfolded with a soundtrack of laughter and shared stories, the miles rolling by as the cityscape gradually gave way to the scenic landscapes of the Hamptons. The air hummed with excitement, each passing mile bringing them closer to the destination—a modern house nestled on an acre of land, promising a weekend of relaxation and unforgettable moments.
As they approached the house, Santana couldn't help but be captivated by its contemporary design. The clean lines and expansive glass windows hinted at the luxurious comfort that awaited them inside. The anticipation heightened as Sugar expertly navigated the car to a stop, and the friends spilled out, greeted by the allure of their weekend escape.
The house stood against a backdrop of nature's splendor, a serene oasis with a 30-foot heated pool inviting them to dive in and embrace the luxury of leisure. Beyond the property, the promise of ocean beaches, the renowned Wolffer Vineyard, and the vibrant town of Sag Harbor added layers to the tapestry of possibilities for the weekend.
Quinn, the planner of the group, led the way as they entered the house. The interior unfolded in a seamless blend of modern aesthetics and cozy comforts. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow on the stylish furnishings. The living room, adorned with plush sofas and tasteful decor, beckoned the friends to unwind and revel in the shared moments ahead.
The outdoor deck, an extension of the inviting interiors, offered a panoramic view of the surroundings. It became the natural gathering spot as the friends settled in, the promise of the heated pool and the Hamptons' allure spreading out before them.
As the days unfolded, laughter echoed through the house, interwoven with the sounds of clinking glasses and the sizzle of a barbecue. The friends indulged in a feast of grilled delights, accompanied by the rich flavors of Wolffer Vineyard's finest. Each moment became a snapshot of friendship, the kind that transcended the ordinary and etched itself into the collective memory of the group.
Evenings were spent under the starlit sky, the poolside becoming a stage for shared stories and spontaneous dances. The vibrant energy of the Hamptons permeated the air, creating a backdrop for the kind of escapade that only a weekend getaway with cherished friends could offer.
Back in the familiar confines of Brooklyn, the rhythm of Santana's nightly routine unfolded with the anticipation of the evening's FaceTime call with Brett. The chime of an incoming call signaled the beginning of their nightly connection. With a swift swipe, Brett's face illuminated the screen, his warm smile instantly bridging the distance between them.
As they caught up on the events of the weekend, Brett couldn't help but comment on Santana's latest Instagram photos. "You looked hot in those pictures from the Hamptons. Especially the bikini ones!"
Santana chuckled, the playful compliment bringing a rosy hue to her cheeks. "Oh please!" The banter continued, their easygoing conversation creating a sense of camaraderie that transcended on the screen.
"You know, Santana" he began, "I was thinking. What if... what if we spent Thanksgiving together?"
Santana's eyes widened, surprise mingled with excitement. "Together? You mean, like, in person?", He nodded, my enthusiasm evident. "Yeah! I know it's a bit unconventional, but why not break the routine? We could go somewhere, do something different. What do you think?"
For a moment, Santana seemed to be lost in contemplation, the wheels turning in her mind. Then, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "That sounds... tempting. But where? And how do we make it happen?". His mind raced, conjuring possibilities. "What about Vegas? It's lively, full of energy. We could have a non-traditional Thanksgiving, and create some new memories. What do you say?"
As the idea hung in the air, I could almost feel the energy shifting, the possibility of a shared Thanksgiving adventure taking root. Santana's eyes sparkled with the thrill of spontaneity.
"Vegas it is, then" she said, her grin widening, her eyes dancing with a mischievous glint. "But how are we going to swing this without raising suspicions?"
Brett leaned back in his chair, considering the question. "We need a cover story—a believable one. Something that won't make Quinn or our families second-guess."
Santana nodded in agreement. "True. I can't just disappear for Thanksgiving without an explanation. Quinn would grill me, and my family—well, they're interrogation experts."
A playful smile touched Brett's lips. "Same goes for me. Quinn can be surprisingly perceptive when she wants to be."
Santana, ever the strategist, suggested, "I could tell Quinn I have a work conference in Vegas—a last-minute thing. It's believable, and I can even throw in some work jargon to make it sound official."
Brett nodded approvingly. "Smart. And I'll tell my family that I'm heading to the Florida Keys with a few of the boys. A spontaneous trip before the holidays. They won't suspect a thing."
As they solidified their cover stories, a sense of camaraderie enveloped them, Santana's eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and mischief. "Looks like we're pulling off a Thanksgiving heist, Brett". He chuckled, the thrill of the impending adventure seeping into his voice. "A heist that involves family, deception, and a secret rendezvous in Vegas. Not your typical Thanksgiving, that's for sure."
With the decision sealed, Brett and Santana shifted the conversation to a more playful terrain. The echoes of their shared laughter resonated through the digital waves, the screen capturing the warmth exchanged despite the miles that physically distanced them.
In the rhythm of passing weeks and months, Santana embraced her organizational prowess, methodically ticking off tasks and orchestrating the details of the impending Thanksgiving escapade to Las Vegas. With seamless efficiency, she ensured that every element of their journey was meticulously planned.
The notification popped up, a confirmation that The Mirage was reserved for their entire week in Las Vegas, Santana's fingers danced across her phone screen to send a message to Brett to inform him as the aroma of a home-cooked dinner wafted through the air, courtesy of Quinn's culinary skills.
Seated at the dining table, Quinn animatedly shared stories from her day, occasionally glancing at Santana with a curious expression. Mid-conversation, Quinn's eyes widened with realization. "Wait, you have to work over Thanksgiving? That's so unfair, Santana!"
Santana, caught in the web of a half-truth, felt a flutter of nervousness. She took a deep breath, contemplating her response. "Well, Quinn, it's not exactly work for the entire week. I've got a conference for three days, but you know me—I decided to extend the stay a bit. Figured I could use the time to get tan, soak up some sun."
Quinn's brow furrowed, a mix of concern and disbelief etching her features. "But Santana, Thanksgiving is a family time. It feels kind of unfair that you won't be with your family during the holiday."
Santana offered a reassuring smile, masking the intricacies of her true intentions. "It's just a short trip, Quinn. Besides, I'll make it up to them. Think of it as a little break before the holiday madness kicks in."
Quinn's skepticism lingered, a silent protest against the perceived injustice. Yet, Santana, masterful in the art of maintaining composure, navigated the conversation with a grace that hinted at an underlying purpose.
In the hushed glow of the evening, bathed in the gentle glow of the screen's artificial light, Santana settled into her nightly routine. The familiar ritual of a FaceTime call with Brett, a lifeline spanning the miles that stretched between them. As the pixels coalesced into Brett's image on the screen, the connection became more than a virtual bridge; it was a sanctuary where whispers of affection and shared dreams wove an invisible tapestry.
Amidst the tender exchanges and laughter that characterized their conversations, Santana found a moment to broach the topic that lingered beneath the surface. Quinn's awareness of her Thanksgiving plans in Vegas had cast a subtle shadow, one that demanded acknowledgment. With a soft exhale, Santana opened the door to the unspoken.
"So…." she began, her eyes reflecting the sincerity of her words, "Quinn knows about Vegas. She knows I'm heading there over Thanksgiving."
Brett's image froze for a moment, the anticipation tangible through the digital realm. When his expression unfroze, a cascade of understanding played across his features. "And how did she take it?"
Santana offered a half-smile, a blend of amusement and affection. "Quinn being Quinn—she thought it was unfair, that I should be with family for Thanksgiving. You know how she is."
Brett chuckled softly, the sound resonating through the speakers. "Well, she cares about you. But you've got it all under control, right?"
Santana nodded, her gaze meeting the distant horizon outside her window. "Yeah, I smoothed it over. Told her it's a work thing, and I'll make it up to the family later. But, Brett, I'm kind of nervous about the whole thing."
His voice, a comforting melody through the speaker, responded with unwavering assurance. "Hey, it's all gonna be fine. Once we're there, once we're together, it'll be worth it. I'm counting down the days."
Her heart echoed his sentiment, a quiet resonance that transcended the digital divide. With the promise of shared moments on the horizon and the steady cadence of Brett's reassurance, Santana embraced the anticipation that painted the nights leading up to their Thanksgiving rendezvous in vibrant hues.
"Three weeks, Brett" she murmured, a blend of excitement and nervousness dancing in her eyes. "Can you believe it?"
Brett's grin mirrored her own enthusiasm as he leaned back, the glow from his screen casting a soft radiance on his features. "Time's flying, Santana. Before you know it, we'll be together."
As the conversation meandered through topics both trivial and significant, Santana couldn't help but press a matter that lingered in the periphery of their shared excitement. "Have you told your family about Thanksgiving yet?"
Brett's expression shifted the playful glint in his eyes now replaced with a thoughtful gaze. "Not yet" he admitted. "I'm thinking of breaking the news a few days before. They'll probably be annoyed, but I'll handle it."
Santana nodded, understanding the delicate balance Brett sought to strike with his family. The conversation ebbed and flowed, the minutes ticking away as they navigated the intricacies of shared excitement and logistical details. With every exchanged word, the promise of their impending reunion carved a space in their hearts, leaving them counting down the days until the pixels on the screen transformed into shared moments in Vegas.
