A Twisted Love Affair
Title: A Twisted Love Affair
Author: stargirl888
Word Count: About 700
Spoilers: None
Pairing: Santana/Rachel(/Finn)
Rating: M
WARNINGS: None really
Summary: I don’t remember when it morphed into this blatant part of our lives, when meetings turned into sleep overs and a craftily concealed changes of underwear became overnight bags left by the door in full view of anyone interested.
A/N: I wrote this a while ago but never got around to posting it. Please comment when you’re done?
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I watch her getting ready, as she places her overnight bag next to the door and lays her coat on top of it before heading back to the bedroom to do a final check that she hasn’t forgotten anything.
How did we get to this fucked up place where I sit and watch as my girlfriend prepares to go spend the night in someone else’s arms. I should be screaming right now, demanding to know how she could do this to me, how she could fuck someone else knowing I was at home and in bed, alone, longing for her warm body to press against mine, for her fingers to trace patterns down my arms like they used to, when I didn’t wonder if she did the same thing when she was with him. But you see I can’t complain, because I agreed to this, because I allowed this to happen - how could I not, when the alternative was losing her completely.
It had been so stereotypical that I was sure if I told anyone they’d think I made it up - I’d come home early from work, planning to surprise my girlfriend, only to find her being fucked by none other than her high school sweet-heart.
“Are you straight?” I had interrupted, saying the first thing that came to mind. “Because I really wish you’d fucking told me that four years ago when I first asked you out.”
She just looked at me with apologetic, tear-filled eyes and murmured.
“I...I don’t know.”
It was all downhill from there. ‘Fine, explore your sexuality.’ I had said, thinking if she was into him it was better she found out then and if it wasn’t then she’d leave him soon enough. What I had not expected was to be trapped in some sort of twisted love circle where, three years on, she was still seeing him.
When I first agreed she’d still try to hide it, just subtly mentioning she had a late meeting or some such excuse, though we both knew where she really was, I don’t remember when it morphed into this blatant part of our lives, when meetings turned into sleep overs and a craftily concealed changes of underwear became overnight bags left by the door in full view of anyone interested.
I left it too long before asking her to leave him, let her get in too deep, let her fall in love. I know she still loves me, I see how torn she is every time I ask her to pick me, but she can’t, she loves us both, and I, despite everything, still love her.
I could leave, I consider it every time I see that overnight bag, but how can I leave the love of my life, the person I wake up for in the morning? How do I just give up our dreams of a life together? I don’t. I tough it out and remind myself that she’s been with me three days for every one day she’s with him ignoring how it used to be four. I push aside the bile that rises in my chest every time I smell his cologne on her clothes, the resentment I feel every time her phone beeps to reveal a text from him and the way my heart breaks every time that I curl up alone in an all too empty bed.
She’s re-entered the room and I watch as she shrugs on her coat.
“Okay, I’m off to see Finn. I’ll be back tomorrow after work.” She says it so cheerily, like they were just planning to have dinner and make polite conversation. I can feel the anger and resentment bubbling inside of me but I push it away, reminding myself that I was the one who allowed this to happen, I was the one who persuaded her to begin this twisted affair.
“You okay Santana?” She paused, hand on top of her bag and I can see the way her eyes beg me to just go along with it yet again.
“Yes, everything’s fine.” my smile doesn’t reach my eyes and I know she can tell but is choosing to ignore it.
I wait until I hear her car pull away before collapsing onto the couch and letting the anguish overtake me.