Santana walked into the apartment, her mind buzzing with the events of the day. She had felt a glimmer of hope lately, a sense that maybe she and Brett were on the mend. Their conversations had become less strained, their interactions more natural. It wasn't perfect, but it was progress, and for Santana, that was enough.

As she stepped through the doorway, however, her heart plummeted at the sight before her. Brett was in the middle of the living room, his suitcase open on the floor as he stuffed clothes into it. The atmosphere in the room was tense, charged with an energy that Santana couldn't quite place.

"Brett, what's going on?" Santana asked, her voice trembling slightly as she approached him cautiously. Brett glanced up at her, his expression unreadable as he continued to pack his belongings. "I'm packing?" he replied simply, his tone neutral.

Santana felt a surge of panic well up inside her at his words. "Where are you going?" she asked, her voice tinged with desperation.

Brett paused for a moment, his movements faltering as he looked up at her. "I'm headed back to Miami" he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "My dad's been making his way here the past few days. He's going to be here tomorrow to pick me up."

Santana felt her heart stop at his words, a wave of disbelief washing over her. How could Brett be leaving her so suddenly, without warning? She felt a tear roll down her cheek as she realized the gravity of the situation. Brett was leaving her. With a heavy heart, Santana turned away from Brett, her eyes filled with tears as she made her way to the bedroom. As she collapsed onto the bed, her body racked with sobs.

Brett stood frozen, his heart sinking as he watched Santana retreat into her bedroom, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He could feel the weight of the tension hanging in the air, thick and suffocating, as he struggled to find the right words to say. With a heavy sigh, he pushed aside his own doubts and fears and took a tentative step toward the bedroom.

"Santana" he called out softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he approached the bed. "San, please talk to me." Santana didn't respond, her face buried in the pillows as she continued to cry. Brett's heart ached at the sight of her pain, a knot forming in his stomach as he reached out a hand towards her trembling form.

"I'm sorry" he murmured, his voice filled with remorse as he gently touched her shoulder. "I didn't mean to upset you."

But Santana recoiled at his touch, pulling away from him as she turned her back towards him. Brett could see the tears glistening on her cheeks, her breathing ragged and uneven as she struggled to contain her emotions.

"Santana, please" Brett pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I hate seeing you like this. Talk to me." But Santana remained silent, her body tense as she continued to cry. Brett felt a surge of frustration welling up inside him, a sense of helplessness washing over him as he realized he couldn't reach her, couldn't break through the walls she had built around herself.

Taking a deep breath, Brett sat down on the edge of the bed, his heart heavy with guilt and uncertainty. He knew that their relationship was hanging by a thread, that the future they had once envisioned together was slipping further and further out of reach. But despite the pain and the doubt, Brett couldn't bring himself to give up on Santana.

"Go away, Brett," she cried out, her voice filled with anguish as she buried her face in the pillows. "I don't want to talk to you right now. Just leave me alone."

"Santana, please" he whispered, his voice barely audible as he reached out a hand towards her. "I love you." He had never wanted to hurt Santana, never wanted to be the cause of her tears. But now, faced with her anger and rejection, he couldn't help but feel like he had failed her in some way.

For a moment, Santana remained still, her breathing shallow and ragged as she struggled to contain her emotions. Then, with a shaky sigh, she turned towards Brett, her eyes red and swollen with tears "I said, go away" she repeated, her voice laced with anger and frustration.

Santana pulled away from him, her body trembling with emotion as she turned her back towards him. Brett felt a pang of guilt gnawing at his insides, a sense of helplessness washing over him as he realized that there was nothing he could do to ease her pain.

For a long moment, they sat in silence. Brett wanted to reach out to Santana, to comfort her in her time of need, but he knew that he had to give her space, had to respect her wishes even if it meant watching her suffer alone "I'm sorry" he murmured.

With a heavy heart, Brett stood up from the bed, his eyes brimming with tears as he turned towards the door. He knew that he couldn't force Santana to open up to him, couldn't make her talk to him if she didn't want to.

Quinn stepped into the apartment, she glanced around, noting the dimly lit living room and the figure of Brett slouched on the couch. "Hey, Brett" she called out, her voice breaking through the quiet.

Brett stirred, lifting his head to acknowledge her presence. "Hey, Quinn" he replied, his tone heavy with exhaustion. Quinn's brows furrowed with concern as she approached him. "How was your day?" she inquired, hoping to break the somber atmosphere with some conversation.

Brett let out a weary sigh, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "Honestly, Quinn, it was a disaster" he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. Quinn's curiosity was piqued, and she sat down beside him, turning to face him fully. "What happened?" she asked, her tone laced with concern.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking, his words coming out in a rush. "Santana didn't take me going home well" he confessed, his expression troubled. Quinn's eyes narrowed in disbelief. "Wait, you only told her today?" she questioned, incredulous. Brett nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Yeah," he admitted. "I was packing when she came home."

Quinn shook her head in disbelief, a surge of anger rising within her. "You're an asshole" she muttered under her breath as she stood up from the couch.

Ignoring Brett's surprised expression, Quinn made her way toward Santana's room, her footsteps heavy with determination. She couldn't believe that Brett had waited until the last minute to tell Santana about his plans to go home. It was a thoughtless and selfish move, one that was bound to hurt Santana deeply.

As she reached Santana's door, Quinn took a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped into Santana's room. The sight that greeted her was heartbreaking. Santana was curled up on her bed, her face buried in her pillow as she cried softly. Quinn's heart ached at the sight of her friend in such pain, and she moved forward to sit beside her on the bed.

"Santana," she said softly, reaching out to gently touch her shoulder. "Are you okay?" Santana looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying. She shook her head, her voice choked with emotion. "No, Quinn" she whispered. "I'm not okay."

Quinn felt a surge of sympathy for her friend, a fierce protectiveness rising within her as she wrapped an arm around Santana's shoulders. "What happened?" she asked gently, her tone filled with concern. Santana took a shaky breath, her shoulders trembling with the effort to hold back her tears. "Brett," she said her voice barely above a whisper. "He's leaving. Going back home to Miami."

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she buried her face in her hands "He was packing when I came home" she said, her voice muffled by her tears. "He didn't even tell me he was leaving until today."

Quinn felt a surge of anger on Santana's behalf, a fierce protectiveness rising within her as she reached out to gently rub her friend's back. "I'm so sorry, Santana," she said, her voice filled with empathy "You don't deserve to be treated like this."

Santana nodded, her tears continuing to flow as she leaned into Quinn's comforting embrace. For a long moment, they sat in silence, the weight of Santana's pain hanging heavy in the air between them. But despite the heaviness of the moment, Quinn knew that she had to be there for her friend, to offer her support and comfort in her time of need.

Brett stood at the threshold of Santana's room, feeling the weight of the words he needed to say pressing down on him like a heavy burden. He took a deep breath, summoning all his courage before stepping forward into the dimly lit space. There, he found Santana sitting on the bed, her eyes red and puffy from crying, with Quinn by her side, offering silent support.

His heart clenched at the sight of Santana's distress, but he knew he couldn't avoid this conversation any longer. With shaky resolve, Brett cleared his throat, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. "I love you, Santana" he began, his words tender yet filled with an underlying sense of urgency. "I love you so much."

Santana's eyes flickered up to meet his, a mixture of emotions swirling within their depths. There was pain and confusion, but also a glimmer of hope, as if she desperately wanted to believe his words despite the turmoil raging inside her. Brett felt a pang of guilt knowing that he was the cause of her distress, but he knew he had to be honest with her, even if it hurt.

"I didn't want to hurt you" Brett continued, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to articulate the whirlwind of emotions churning inside him. "I just wanted to give you some space."

Quinn shifted beside Santana, casting a questioning glance in Brett's direction. Her expression was a mix of concern and curiosity, silently urging him to explain himself. Brett took a moment to gather his thoughts, his mind racing as he tried to find the right words to convey the complexity of his feelings.

"You know I couldn't stay here forever" Brett finally said, his voice tinged with sadness as he looked into Santana's eyes, searching for understanding. "I still have my whole life in Miami."

Santana's brows furrowed with frustration, her emotions swirling inside her like a storm. "But why didn't you tell me sooner?" she demanded, her voice tinged with hurt. "I know, I should have been honest with you from the beginning," Brett continued, his voice filled with remorse. "And I'm sorry."

He glanced over at Santana, her expression guarded yet hopeful as if she were silently pleading for some sign of reassurance. Brett swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. "Do you... do you maybe want to go out for food?" he finally managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

Santana hesitated, uncertainty flickering in her eyes as she searched his face for any sign of sincerity. Brett could see the wariness etched in her features, the walls she had built around her heart thick and impenetrable.

Before Santana could respond, Quinn interjected, her voice firm and resolute. "Enough," she declared, her gaze flickering between Brett and Santana. "You two need to talk. This relationship will not work, especially long-distance, if you don't communicate."

Brett nodded, silently acknowledging the truth in Quinn's words. Turning to Santana, Brett mustered up every ounce of courage he had, his voice steady yet tinged with vulnerability. "Please, Santana," he implored, his gaze locking with hers. "Let's talk. I want to make things right between us."

Santana studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to gauge the sincerity of his words. Brett held his breath, waiting for her response, his heart pounding in his chest with anticipation.

Finally, Santana nodded, a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes. "Okay," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let's talk." Quinn's face broke into a small smile, relief evident in her features as she stepped forward to offer her support. "I'll help you get ready," she told Santana, her tone gentle yet firm.

He felt a surge of gratitude toward Quinn, thankful for her unwavering support and guidance. With her help, maybe he and Santana could find a way to bridge the gap that had formed between them, to rebuild the trust and communication that were essential to any successful relationship.

Brett's heart pounded in his chest as they made their way to Juliana's, the weight of the conversation they were about to have hanging heavy in the air. They walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Brett knew that this conversation could make or break their relationship, and he was determined to do everything in his power to make things right.

They were seated at a cozy corner table, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows across the room. Brett glanced at Santana, her expression guarded yet hopeful, and felt a surge of determination wash over him. Tonight, he would lay his heart on the line, baring his soul in the hopes of winning back her trust and love.

As they perused the menu, Brett couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within him. This dinner was more than just a meal—it was a chance for him to prove to Santana that he was willing to fight for their relationship, no matter what obstacles stood in their way.

"What do you think we should order?" Brett asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them. Santana shrugged, her eyes scanning the menu with a hint of indecision. "I don't know" she replied softly. "You pick."

Brett's gaze lingered on the menu for a moment before his eyes landed on a particular item. "How about number 6?" he suggested, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's a chicken pizza with guacamole and cilantro—a Mexican pizza," he explained, excitement bubbling in his voice.

Santana chuckled at his enthusiasm, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Sounds interesting," she remarked, her eyes meeting his with a hint of amusement. "Let's give it a try."

With their order placed and drinks on the way, Brett took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation that lay ahead. He knew that he needed to step up tonight, lay his cards on the table, and be honest with Santana about his feelings.

"Santana," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you... Do you want to break up with me?"

Santana's expression softened, her eyes filled with compassion as she reached out to take his hand. "No, Brett" she replied softly, her voice filled with sincerity. "I don't want to break up with you."

Relief washed over Brett, flooding his senses with a sense of gratitude and warmth. But before he could fully relax, Santana turned the question back on him, her gaze searching his face for any sign of hesitation.

"And what about you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you want to break up with me?" Brett shook his head vehemently, his heart aching at the thought of losing Santana. "No" he replied earnestly. "I love you."

Santana's eyes softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Brett knew that there was something weighing on Santana's mind, something she needed to say but before she could speak, however, Brett held up a hand, stopping her in her tracks. "Santana," he began, his voice tinged with sadness. "When I say I don't want to have a baby for a long time yet, I mean it."

Brett took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "I'm broke, Santana" he admitted, his voice filled with shame and regret. "I have no money, no job, no car. I have nothing to bring to the table at the moment."

Santana's eyes widened in surprise, her hand reaching out to gently cup his cheek. "Brett," she whispered, her voice filled with compassion. "I don't care about any of that. I love you for who you are, not what you have."

Brett felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he gazed into Santana's eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of her love and understanding. "But Santana," he protested weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to be able to support you, to give you everything you deserve."

Santana shook her head, her eyes shining with love and determination. "You already do, Brett" she replied softly. "You give me love and kindness, you make me feel safe. And that's all I could ever ask for."

Brett felt a weight lifting from his shoulders, a sense of peace settling over him as he realized the depth of Santana's love for him. In that moment, he knew that they would face whatever challenges lay ahead together, united in their love and commitment to each other.

"Brett" she began slowly, her voice tinged with apprehension. "When I said that time is against us with starting a family, I didn't mean that I wanted a baby right now. In fact, I've never wanted to be a mom, ever. I hate kids."

Brett's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his lips quirking into a small smile. "You hate kids?" he asked incredulously, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Santana chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Yeah, I do" she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I've just never been a kid person, you know?" Brett nodded understandingly, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Yeah, I get it" he replied reassuringly.

Santana sighed, relieved that Brett wasn't judging her for her feelings. "But" she continued, her voice growing serious. "I want a family because you do. I just wanted you to know, needed you to know, that due to my age, it might not happen for us."

Brett's expression softened, his gaze filled with understanding and empathy. "Santana," he murmured, reaching across the table to cup her cheek in his hand. "I love you, no matter what. And if having a family isn't in the cards for us, then that's okay. As long as I have you by my side, I'll be happy."

Tears welled up in Santana's eyes as she gazed into Brett's eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his love for her. In that moment, she knew that no matter what the future holds, they would face it together, united in their love and commitment to each other. And as she leaned across the table to press her lips to his, Santana knew that she was exactly where she was meant to be.

They had just finished a heartfelt conversation about their future, and while there were still uncertainties lingering in the air, Brett couldn't help but feel a sense of optimism. As he reached for a slice of pizza, a thought crossed Brett's mind, and he turned to Santana with a playful glint in his eye. "Hey, San," he began, his voice laced with excitement. "What do you think about getting some cats?"

Santana's gaze snapped up from her plate, her eyes narrowing as she fixed him with a skeptical look. "Cats?" she echoed, her tone incredulous. "Are you serious?" Brett couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction, knowing full well Santana's aversion to felines. "Yeah, why not?" he replied, his smile widening. "I mean, if we don't have kids, then what about cats? They could be our little fur babies."

Santana let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head in disbelief. "You know I hate cats, Brett" she reminded him, her voice tinged with irritation. "I'd rather have a thousand kids than cats." Brett raised an eyebrow, his amusement evident as he leaned back in his chair. "Wow, really?" he teased, a grin spreading across his face. "I never knew you hated cats that much" Santana shot him a playful glare, though there was a hint of amusement in her eyes.

The night air was cool as Brett and Santana made their way back to the apartment. The tension that had once hung heavy between Brett and Santana seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a newfound sense of ease and contentment. Quinn remarked on the change, her voice tinged with relief as they settled onto the couch to unwind after their evening out.

"It's nice to see you two getting along," Quinn commented, a small smile playing on her lips as she glanced between Brett and Santana. "I was starting to worry there for a minute." Brett chuckled, nodding in agreement as he leaned back against the cushions.

They spent the next hour or so chatting and laughing together, the tension of the past few days slowly melting away with each passing moment. Eventually, the exhaustion of the day caught up with them, and they decided to call it a night.

As they said their goodnights to Quinn and made their way to Santana's room, Brett felt a surge of warmth in his chest. Despite the challenges they had faced, he was grateful for the bond he shared with Santana and the way they always seemed to find their way back to each other.

Once inside Santana's room, Brett closed the door behind them, the soft click echoing in the quiet room. He turned to Santana, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear.

"Hey, San" he whispered, his voice low and husky as he trailed a finger along her jawline. "Do you know what's even better than making up? Make-up sex"

Santana's eyes widened with curiosity, her lips curving into a playful smile as she leaned in closer to him. "Oh really?" she murmured, her voice tinged with excitement. Brett nodded, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke. "Definitely" he whispered, his fingers trailing down her neck and onto her collarbone. Santana shivered at his touch, her heart racing with anticipation. "I like where this is going," she said, her voice low and sultry.

Their lips met in a fierce kiss as their hands roamed each other's bodies. Brett's hands traveled down to Santana's hips as he pulled her closer to him. She let out a soft moan as their bodies moved together in perfect synchronization.

With eager hands, they quickly undressed each other until they were both completely naked. Brett trailed kisses down Santana's neck and onto her chest, paying special attention to every inch of skin he touched.

Santana arched her back as Brett's lips found hers once again. She tangled her fingers in his hair as the intensity between them grew with each passing moment as Brett ran his hands down Santana's sides, feeling every curve and dip of her body.

Their lips broke apart for a brief moment as they both caught their breath. "I love you" Brett whispered, his eyes filled with adoration as he looked into Santana's dark brown gaze. A smile spread across Santana's face, a sense of warmth flooding her body at his words. She pulled him closer and their lips met in another passionate kiss as he positioned himself and then entered her.

Their bodies moved together in a rhythm that only they knew, each movement bringing them closer to the edge. Their moans and gasps filled the room as they lost themselves in each other, their love and desire for one another fueling their every move.

Brett's hands explored every inch of Santana's body, leaving trails of fire wherever he touched. His lips traced along her neck and collarbone, sending shivers down her spine as he whispered words of love and devotion into her ear.

Santana was overwhelmed by the incredible sensations she felt as she moved on top of him. Every touch, every kiss, every sensation was heightened and it all felt amazing to her. As they continued to explore each other's bodies, their moans and gasps filled the room. It was as if they were making up for lost time, letting go of any tension or anger that had built up between them.

Soon enough, they both reached their climax, breathing heavily as they collapsed onto the bed in a sweaty heap. They lay there for a few moments, basking in the afterglow of their passion.

Santana couldn't hold back a grin as she broke the silence between them. "That was amazing" she exclaimed. Brett let out a low chuckle and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "I guess they were right about makeup sex being the best" he replied with a sly smile. Santana playfully rolled her eyes before snuggling closer into his embrace.

Brett's fingers traced lazy patterns on Santana's bare back, sending shivers of pleasure dancing across her skin. With each gentle stroke, a wave of warmth washed over her, soothing away the lingering tensions of the day. She sighed softly, her eyes fluttering closed as she melted into his touch.

"I'm going to miss you when you leave tomorrow" Santana murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she nestled closer to Brett's warmth. Brett's fingers paused in their movements, his touch growing still as he absorbed her words. He pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head, his lips lingering against her soft skin.

"I'll miss you too, Santana," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and regret. "More than you know." Santana lifted her head to meet Brett's gaze, her eyes searching his for any sign of uncertainty. She could see the weight of his impending departure reflected in the depths of his eyes, a shadow of sadness clouding the usually bright spark within.

"Are you sure you have to go?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with a hint of pleading. "Can't you stay just a little longer?" Brett's expression softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he brushed a stray lock of hair from Santana's face. "I wish I could, Santana," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret.

Santana nodded in understanding, though her heart ached at the thought of being apart from Brett once again. "I know," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the soft hum of the night. "But it doesn't make it any easier."

Brett pulled her closer, wrapping her in a warm embrace as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "I promise, Santana" he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'll be back before you know it."

Santana leaned into Brett's embrace, savoring the warmth of his touch as she buried her face against his chest. She knew that their time together was precious, and she was determined to make the most of every moment they shared.