When Santana woke up the next morning she almost cancelled her meeting with Sugar. She had a ragging hungover and she felt like shit. She even had to empty her stomach contents twice before she could drag herself into a hot shower. God, she hadn't even drunk that much, but she wasn't a teenager anymore and her liver protested thoroughly every time she drunk even the slightest more than she was used to. Damn aging.
Still, after her shower, she got dressed with a pair of black tight jeans, a warm long sleeved white t-shirt, a white hoodie two sizes too big, and overall she threw her blue winter jacket. It was freezing, after all. She tied her hair up in a messy ponytail and didn't even bother on applying any kind of make-up.
As she wasn't sure she could drive with that hungover, she decided to walk. Some fresh air will do me good, she thought, and she was right. After a fifteen minute walk to the park she was feeling slightly better, enough to stop at a local coffee shop to grab a black coffee to go. Once she reached their usual meeting spot, sipping on her hot drink, Sugar was already there, arching a brow in a very unimpressed way.
"You know, you look like shit" Sugar said eyeing Santana form hair to toes "Sorry, Asperger's".
"No one believes your Asperger shit anymore, Motta" Santana muttered completely unamused.
"What's wrong with you, Satan? Is JayJay not giving you what you need in bed?" hearing the nickname of her husband made Santana cringe, Sugar had always been so damn forward it was kind of confusing. But she didn't cringe because of the personal question; she cringed because she hadn't told any of her friends that she and Jacob were divorcing yet. For a second she considered telling Sugar, but she kind of preferred to tell them all at the same time.
"Fine, he's fine" she said, she didn't really know how he was, but she came here for a serious reason, she wouldn't let herself get side tracked. "So, I need a gynaecologist. A good one. Mine is kind of creepy, even if he is professional he ogles at my boobs too much. And I know you know people, I need the best"
Sugar simply stared at her for a few seconds, eyes wide open, not blinking, not even once, trying to assume what Santana had just said. Santana could almost hear Sugar's brain gears turning, trying to find an explanation to her friend's sudden need of that kind of specialist.
"I know the best" she said after a few seconds with a sympathetic smile and a soft pat on the Latina's knee. Sugar knew Santana enough not to push the matter, she wanted to know what was going on, but she also knew her friend would talk when she was ready. "Brittany Pierce. But…why didn't you ask Quinn?" Sugar asked softly. Santana just shrugged, not looking at her, and Sugar sighed starting to get really worried, but she tried to play it cool "I'm just asking because Ms Pierce is Quinn's gynaecologist, and she's pretty happy with her for what I know, she could probably give you better advice, you know, she had needed it a lot more than I do…" Sugar trailed off and Santana decided it was already an awkward enough conversation to get started on how Quinn had needed someone digging in her lady parts more than the average amount of regular testing, and not even in a sexual way.
"Okay, whatever, Motta. Do you have this Bethany's number?" Santana asked feigning disinterest.
"Brittany" Sugar corrected while taking her phone out of her pocket, sending a quick message to Santana with said phone number. When Santana's phone went off with the sound of a new text, Sugar stood up "Call her, Santana. Whatever is going on call her before it's too late. And for the love of God, eat something, you look pale, and I don't know how that is even possible given your skin tone"
"That's racist" Santana mumbled with an eye roll but stood up as well. "I have a bump in my breast" she said suddenly, needing to get it out of her chest "My doctor says he prefers that a specialist checks it out even if he thinks it's nothing. And I didn't ask Q because I don't know how to tell her, not after Matt, after all we have been through this year…" she started crying without even trying to avoid it. She had been acting tough, but she had to admit it: she was scared.
Without a word, Sugar wrapped her arms around her friend and drew circles on Santana's back to calm her down. When she noticed her friend's breathing calming down she simply whispered in her ear "Everything's gonna be okay"
A few hours later, Santana had taken another shower to wash away the remnants of her hungover and she had indeed taken Sugar's advice and eaten something. Actually she had ordered the greasiest burger she could find on that fast food take away place down her street, with some fries and a big soda, and now she was feeling much better. She had even grown the courage to call that Brittany Pierce or however she was called and she made an appointment for the coming Monday, which was still a week ahead, so that taken care of, she could focus on her job and her divorce and on telling her friends everything.
She wasn't the best at talking about feelings, she had never been. It was very difficult for her to admit that she was terrified or that she cared, but she had gotten better with the years, she was not a high school HBIC anymore after all, and she knew her friends deserved to know. They deserved to know everything that was going on, even if they could figure out themselves anyway. Santana sometimes wondered if she was just so easy to read or if she had psychic friends. Anyway, she decided she'd tell them after the appointment with the gynaecologist and she would try to act normal meanwhile, and hope for Sugar not to open her ginormous blabber mouth.