Another 'Drabble'
Prompt: You're settling. Left at the meme by cheapen
Chapter: 1/1
Warning: None, really. A little angst.
Character: Puck/Rachel
Word Count: lots.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
It's crazy how everything happens. Really, he doesn't even understand, even after the fact.
It starts when he and Rachel both end up in New York City. Her, because it's her dream, and him, because it's better than staying in Lima, Ohio and living the dead end life that's always been expected of him. Getting on that bus to New York was like sticking up his middle finger and flipping off everyone in that goddamn town. Assholes.
Then he and Rachel start dating. Maybe it's a year later or something, but they get together. Then they live together another year after that. Then he proposes when they're 22 and she says yes and they start planning a wedding.
Then they break up.
The really fucked up thing? He's not surprised. They're too similar, or too different, or something. Or maybe she's just not the kind of girl you marry. Maybe she's the girl you commit to so you can learn the ropes of that whole 'relationship' thing, then you move on. (She cried and slapped him and put together a string of curses that almost made him proud when he said all that to her.)
So yeah, he quits his job and moves back to Lima with a bunch of money in his pocket and a some shit on his resume that actually makes him look good.
And he stops thinking of Rachel.
Most of the time.
It's just that she's kind of a hard girl to forget about, you know? Mostly because she's kind of famous, but also because when you're with someone that long, every single fucking thing you say or do or see or smell has some fucked up memory tied to that person. Like, he can't smell cut grass without thinking of that time they fell asleep in Battery Park and he was picking grass from her hair all the way back to their apartment. And any song he hears, he's got some recollection of her singing, or it reminds him of her, or it sounds like something she'd like, or it applies to their relationship.
So whatever. That all lasts about a year. Then he meets someone.
And look, it's not like there are a ton of options in Lima. She's a good girl, and she's hot as fuck, and she likes him. He's told her all about his past and she didn't go running for the door, so he figures that's a point in her favour, too. He kinda falls in love with her. Then she moves into the house he bought and he totally falls in love with her. She's blonde and blue-eyed and she works as a teller at the local bank as she studies to become a certified accountant.
He loves her, he does.
So he buys a ring.
It's completely different from the one he bought before, the one he never got back. He didn't want it back, wanted Rachel to have it, something like a reminder that they didn't completely suck together and once, they loved each other enough to want it to be forever. He's kinda sentimental that way. Or, he just wanted to torture her, so she'd know it was in her apartment and they fucked everything up and it was all at least half her fault.
This ring has a gold band (not white gold) and three round diamonds (not the princess cut solitaire Rachel cried over). It fits her perfectly.
She knows it's his second proposal, but he's pretty sure he's the only one thinking about that other one right now.
... ... ...
He honestly thinks he's seeing things. He has to be. Because there's no way Rachel Berry is walking into the bar where his engagement party is being held. He hasn't seen her in three years, and there's just no explanation for her walking through that door. He hasn't had that much to drink, but Jager always did kind of fuck him up.
"Is that...?" Santana asks, after practically spitting out her beer.
Puck shoots her a look to get her to not say the name. Claire knows all about Rachel, and she's seen pictures. She's never seen her in person. Puck wants to get out of this with as little awkwardness as possible.
He thinks he's gonna throw hands when Finn gets up with this stupid smile on his face and walks towards Rachel. She comes over and she's talking with everyone, and he's just sitting there, and Claire's hand is kind of digging into his thigh, which only happens when she's really insecure or uncomfortable. He tries to sooth her, run his hand down her back, but he only does it once because for some reason, he thinks it'll upset Rachel and he doesn't want that, either.
So that's reason #1 why he thinks he might be well and truly fucked.
Another reason? Rachel looks incredible. He knows, because she's a fucking star and he sees her on TV sometimes. The bangs are new. He likes them. She always said she wanted bangs, and as many times as he told her just to go for it, she never did. She's wearing this black top that's tight and a little lower cut than anything she usually wears (wore?), and it makes her tits look amazing. Her legs are covered by a pair of dark jeans, fancy heels on her feet from the collection in her closet he'd always make fun of her for.
This is so fucked up.
She explains that she's between shows right now, taking offers for movie musicals and waiting for post to wrap on the animated Disney movie she just voiced.
She's a fucking Disney princess. He smiles against his beer bottle, because that was always one of her dreams.
So she's in town for a few weeks, spending time with her dads away from the city. Someone asks if she's going to move from New York to L.A. if she's going to be in the movie business, and she just shakes her head, catches his eye for a split second and says, "No. New York has been home for years."
He remembers how big a deal she made the first time he called her apartment 'home' after he'd moved in. He knows she lives on the Upper East Side now, not in Murray Hill, but whatever. He knows she was trying to do that, to make him remember that city and being with her in it.
She strikes up conversation with Claire, asks to see the ring and fawns over it and compliments the blonde and asks questions about the wedding and swoons at all the right times.
Puck gets up and goes to the bar, because he's the only person in the whole fucking place who knows this is all a goddamn act. All of it. Her coming in here, looking like that, totally stealing the attention of everyone in the room and talking about herself at someone else's engagement party. She's totally fake, completely bullshitting caring about the wedding at all, and it's pissing him off.
He catches Finn coming out of the bathroom, straight-arm shoves him against the wall.
"Dude," Finn says, confused.
"Rachel?" Puck barks.
"I saw her today. She asked if I wanted to grab a drink and I told her about the party. I couldn't not invite her."
"You invited my ex to my fucking engagement party. Are you retarded?"
"I didn't want to be rude," Finn says, like he has no clue he's a moron who just completely fucked everything up.
When Puck gets back to the table after using the bathroom and splashing water on his face (and hiding for a minute), he sees that everyone is totally watching Rachel and Claire sitting next to one another, just waiting for the shit to hit the fan. When they see him, they're all looking at him like they want him to do something or say something. He has no intentions of it. He just wants to get the fuck out of here.
A while later, he's at the bar with a shot of Jager in one hand and a beer in the other and Rachel walks up to him. This is legit the last thing he needs. Ever in his life.
"'Sup, Berry?" he asks.
He hasn't called her that since they were 15. In a fucked up way, it feels good.
"You're drunk," she states, gesturing to the bartender for another martini.
"You don't know," he says, tipping back the shot. She just looks at him as if to ask if he's serious. "You don't know shit."
She doesn't say anything, watches as he tips back his shot, then chases with his beer. "Claire is...really nice," she says. He scoffs, shakes his head. "What?"
"You haven't fuckin' said one word to me in three years, and you show up here tonight. Fuck that, Rachel. Fuck you."
She turns towards him and glares. "You haven't spoken to me either," she spits back. "And I'm not the one breaking promises and giving rings to other people." He's fucking pissed. She's blaming him for everything right now? That's fucking cold. "So fuck you."
She leaves her full drink on the bar, meets his eyes one last time, and leaves without saying goodbye to anyone.
That just makes him even angrier, because of course she had to come here and cause a scene, and now he's gonna have to explain to Claire that it was nothing, just old bullshit that didn't mean anything.
And he really hates lying to her.
... ... ...
He can't sleep. Claire bought all his shit about Rachel just throwing him for a loop. He told her Rachel just got upset seeing him moving on, and Claire actually smiled and kissed him. He doesn't think it was much of a lie anyway, considering what was said to him at the bar.
But now he's laying awake with this girl next to him, and he has no idea why the hell he's still so angry. He just hates that Rachel always gets the last word, especially when it never really means anything and he has a lot more questions he wants answered.
So he slips out of bed and walks the six blocks to Rachel's place, knocks on the door probably too loudly, but he's still drunk and he doesn't care.
"Noah," she hisses when she pulls open the door and sees that it's him. Her father is behind her, looking tired and annoyed to be woken up so late at night.
"We gotta talk."
"It's 3:30 in the morning," she says, sounding all pissy.
"Now," he says, almost barks it like an order. Mr. Berry doesn't look too pleased, but Rachel gives him a look over her shoulder and he just goes back upstairs.
She steps outside and tugs the door closed behind her, then leads him into the garage where it's warmer and they won't wake the neighbours if they start yelling. "What are you doing here?"
"Who the fuck d'you think you are?" he asks. She looks scared or something, so he lowers his voice and takes a step away from her. Shit, he was just really close. He can smell her perfume. God, he loves her perfume. "Coming here. Coming tonight. You fuckin'...sat there and talked to her about flowers."
"I didn't want to be rude," she says quietly.
"Fuck that," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "You can fool everyone else, babe, but don't lie to me. Okay? Don't fucking lie to me."
Did he just call her 'babe'? Fuck.
"I had no intentions of seeing you while I was home. I wasn't going to seek you out or be anyplace I thought you might be," she explains seriously. "I didn't...I really didn't want to see you, not after you broke my heart..."
"I broke your heart!" he shouts.
"Not after everything," she says, ignoring him. He knows she hated it before, when he told her she tore him apart as much as he fucked her over. "But then Finn..."
"Finn's a fucking idiot who shouldn't be allowed to talk to you."
She shows just a bit of a smile. "He told me you're engaged, and...I just wanted to see. See her, I guess." He leans back against her dad's SUV, stares at her standing there in her satin nightgown and bare feet. "I wanted to see the woman you love more than me."
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.
"That's not even..." He stops himself before he finishes, runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He feels really sober now, and this conversation sucks.
She shrugs her shoulder. "You'd think I'd be happy," she says. "As soon as I saw you together I knew." He waits for her to finish. He doesn't think he's going to like what she says. "You don't love her more than you loved me."
Okay, what the actual fuck?
He hasn't seen her for three years and she still knows him better than he knows himself.
'Cause all that shit? It's fucking true and he had no idea until she just said it.
"Rachel." Can't think of anything else to say. Might as well say her name. It doesn't taste as bitter as it has since he left New York. "I mean, shit. What do you want me to say to that?"
"I don't know," she admits quietly, looking down. She grabs the hem of her nightgown and plays with the lace there. Fuck, that just makes him want to rip it off her. He steps towards her and bats her hand away. She looks up in time for him to put his hands on his hips and tip his head back. "The truth would be great."
"You mean like how we were fucking awesome together and we fucked it all up?"
"Yeah," she says, laughing bitterly. "That's always been a given." He rubs his forehead. He could really use a glass of water right now. "I still have the ring," she tells him. Fuck, he doesn't need this. "I couldn't...I believe your last words on the matter were 'Pawn it or something. Whatever the fuck you want. I don't want it.' I kept it."
"Since when d'you swear so much?" he asks. It's irrelevant. He doesn't want to talk about the ring or their engagement or the fact that he might still be fucking in love with her or something totally stupid like that.
She steps towards him and ignores his question all together, puts her hands on his wrists and holds them in her own. She's too close, too beautiful and too perfect, and he really can't handle it right now. Or ever.
"You're settling."
He wants to glare at her, and he thinks he tries. He knows he fails. Who the hell is she to say shit like that to him? He should pull himself away from her and repeat what he said at the bar. He should just swear at her. He really, really should leave right now, before she kisses him and he can't stop her, or before he kisses her and she doesn't stop him.
"Rach."
"You are," she insists, holding his wrists tighter. "Even if you and me..." She takes a deep breath. He realizes she's crying. That's not helping. "Even if it's not me, you know it's not her. And you would have married her and had this life, and...I'd hate for you to do that, Noah."
Her eyes are all shiny and she's trying to blink away the tears, and fuck, he shouldn't ask, but he has to.
"Are you still in love with me or something?"
She closes her eyes and then opens them again, looks right at him and shrugs. It's like it's hopeless, like she'll never get over him and she's tried.
To be honest, that's all sounding really fucking familiar right now.
"Fuck," he mutters. This is not what he needs in his life. Actually, fuck it, it might be. He just doesn't want it. Everything's so much easier when he can pretend she doesn't exist. He can just be with someone else and not think about the one woman he let go. "What am I supposed to do with that, Rachel?"
"Don't shout at me!" she says, pulling away. He didn't realize he was shouting. "I'm just trying to be honest."
"Honest!" he cries. "Coulda used that three years ago. If you'd just said...Shit, Rachel. If you'd said you loved me before I left..."
"That goes both ways, too," she says seriously, pointing at him. "You walked out of the apartment without a word. You didn't even tell me you were moving."
"I didn't think you'd care!"
"That's the entire issue!" She's yelling now. He's pretty sure her dads can hear this whole conversation. "You expected so much of me, Noah, and I gave you everything I had. I was exhausted. I had no idea what to say or do to show you...to prove to you that..." She shakes her head, swipes at a tear falling down her cheek. "You never listen, Noah."
"Well, fuck, I'm hearing you loud and clear right now."
She bites her lip hard. He sees the indents her teeth leave. "Good," she whispers.
He rubs his hand over the back of his neck. "What do I do now? I mean...shit."
"Do you love me?" she asks, looking to the floor again.
He answers. Sort of.
"I dunno."
She smiles, looks at him through her eyelashes. She always could tell when he was lying.
"I think," she says quietly, "maybe I kept the ring because I really wanted to wear it again. Someday."
He groans. "Rachel, I can't...I gotta..."
She walks towards him, puts her palm on his cheek and leans up on her toes to kiss the other one. "You know where I am. And you know, my new apartment is much bigger than the old one. Plenty of room for another person." He takes a deep breath. He doesn't know what he's gonna do. Okay, fuck that. Yes he does. "Just think about it."
She walks away, leaves him alone in her garage. To be honest, there's not much to think about at all.
... ... ...
His first order of business when he gets to New York? He drops his shit and tells her to get the ring and put it on her damn finger. When they're in bed later that night and he's using his thumb to move the diamond back and forth, she tells him this is the first time she's put it on since the day she took it off. He doesn't really want to believe her, thinks she might be lying, but she shakes her head and promises. And Rachel Berry is serious about her promises. She said she'd love him forever, and he was the idiot who didn't believe her. He's not going to make that same mistake again.
Chapter: 1/1
Warning: None, really. A little angst.
Character: Puck/Rachel
Word Count: lots.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
It's crazy how everything happens. Really, he doesn't even understand, even after the fact.
It starts when he and Rachel both end up in New York City. Her, because it's her dream, and him, because it's better than staying in Lima, Ohio and living the dead end life that's always been expected of him. Getting on that bus to New York was like sticking up his middle finger and flipping off everyone in that goddamn town. Assholes.
Then he and Rachel start dating. Maybe it's a year later or something, but they get together. Then they live together another year after that. Then he proposes when they're 22 and she says yes and they start planning a wedding.
Then they break up.
The really fucked up thing? He's not surprised. They're too similar, or too different, or something. Or maybe she's just not the kind of girl you marry. Maybe she's the girl you commit to so you can learn the ropes of that whole 'relationship' thing, then you move on. (She cried and slapped him and put together a string of curses that almost made him proud when he said all that to her.)
So yeah, he quits his job and moves back to Lima with a bunch of money in his pocket and a some shit on his resume that actually makes him look good.
And he stops thinking of Rachel.
Most of the time.
It's just that she's kind of a hard girl to forget about, you know? Mostly because she's kind of famous, but also because when you're with someone that long, every single fucking thing you say or do or see or smell has some fucked up memory tied to that person. Like, he can't smell cut grass without thinking of that time they fell asleep in Battery Park and he was picking grass from her hair all the way back to their apartment. And any song he hears, he's got some recollection of her singing, or it reminds him of her, or it sounds like something she'd like, or it applies to their relationship.
So whatever. That all lasts about a year. Then he meets someone.
And look, it's not like there are a ton of options in Lima. She's a good girl, and she's hot as fuck, and she likes him. He's told her all about his past and she didn't go running for the door, so he figures that's a point in her favour, too. He kinda falls in love with her. Then she moves into the house he bought and he totally falls in love with her. She's blonde and blue-eyed and she works as a teller at the local bank as she studies to become a certified accountant.
He loves her, he does.
So he buys a ring.
It's completely different from the one he bought before, the one he never got back. He didn't want it back, wanted Rachel to have it, something like a reminder that they didn't completely suck together and once, they loved each other enough to want it to be forever. He's kinda sentimental that way. Or, he just wanted to torture her, so she'd know it was in her apartment and they fucked everything up and it was all at least half her fault.
This ring has a gold band (not white gold) and three round diamonds (not the princess cut solitaire Rachel cried over). It fits her perfectly.
She knows it's his second proposal, but he's pretty sure he's the only one thinking about that other one right now.
... ... ...
He honestly thinks he's seeing things. He has to be. Because there's no way Rachel Berry is walking into the bar where his engagement party is being held. He hasn't seen her in three years, and there's just no explanation for her walking through that door. He hasn't had that much to drink, but Jager always did kind of fuck him up.
"Is that...?" Santana asks, after practically spitting out her beer.
Puck shoots her a look to get her to not say the name. Claire knows all about Rachel, and she's seen pictures. She's never seen her in person. Puck wants to get out of this with as little awkwardness as possible.
He thinks he's gonna throw hands when Finn gets up with this stupid smile on his face and walks towards Rachel. She comes over and she's talking with everyone, and he's just sitting there, and Claire's hand is kind of digging into his thigh, which only happens when she's really insecure or uncomfortable. He tries to sooth her, run his hand down her back, but he only does it once because for some reason, he thinks it'll upset Rachel and he doesn't want that, either.
So that's reason #1 why he thinks he might be well and truly fucked.
Another reason? Rachel looks incredible. He knows, because she's a fucking star and he sees her on TV sometimes. The bangs are new. He likes them. She always said she wanted bangs, and as many times as he told her just to go for it, she never did. She's wearing this black top that's tight and a little lower cut than anything she usually wears (wore?), and it makes her tits look amazing. Her legs are covered by a pair of dark jeans, fancy heels on her feet from the collection in her closet he'd always make fun of her for.
This is so fucked up.
She explains that she's between shows right now, taking offers for movie musicals and waiting for post to wrap on the animated Disney movie she just voiced.
She's a fucking Disney princess. He smiles against his beer bottle, because that was always one of her dreams.
So she's in town for a few weeks, spending time with her dads away from the city. Someone asks if she's going to move from New York to L.A. if she's going to be in the movie business, and she just shakes her head, catches his eye for a split second and says, "No. New York has been home for years."
He remembers how big a deal she made the first time he called her apartment 'home' after he'd moved in. He knows she lives on the Upper East Side now, not in Murray Hill, but whatever. He knows she was trying to do that, to make him remember that city and being with her in it.
She strikes up conversation with Claire, asks to see the ring and fawns over it and compliments the blonde and asks questions about the wedding and swoons at all the right times.
Puck gets up and goes to the bar, because he's the only person in the whole fucking place who knows this is all a goddamn act. All of it. Her coming in here, looking like that, totally stealing the attention of everyone in the room and talking about herself at someone else's engagement party. She's totally fake, completely bullshitting caring about the wedding at all, and it's pissing him off.
He catches Finn coming out of the bathroom, straight-arm shoves him against the wall.
"Dude," Finn says, confused.
"Rachel?" Puck barks.
"I saw her today. She asked if I wanted to grab a drink and I told her about the party. I couldn't not invite her."
"You invited my ex to my fucking engagement party. Are you retarded?"
"I didn't want to be rude," Finn says, like he has no clue he's a moron who just completely fucked everything up.
When Puck gets back to the table after using the bathroom and splashing water on his face (and hiding for a minute), he sees that everyone is totally watching Rachel and Claire sitting next to one another, just waiting for the shit to hit the fan. When they see him, they're all looking at him like they want him to do something or say something. He has no intentions of it. He just wants to get the fuck out of here.
A while later, he's at the bar with a shot of Jager in one hand and a beer in the other and Rachel walks up to him. This is legit the last thing he needs. Ever in his life.
"'Sup, Berry?" he asks.
He hasn't called her that since they were 15. In a fucked up way, it feels good.
"You're drunk," she states, gesturing to the bartender for another martini.
"You don't know," he says, tipping back the shot. She just looks at him as if to ask if he's serious. "You don't know shit."
She doesn't say anything, watches as he tips back his shot, then chases with his beer. "Claire is...really nice," she says. He scoffs, shakes his head. "What?"
"You haven't fuckin' said one word to me in three years, and you show up here tonight. Fuck that, Rachel. Fuck you."
She turns towards him and glares. "You haven't spoken to me either," she spits back. "And I'm not the one breaking promises and giving rings to other people." He's fucking pissed. She's blaming him for everything right now? That's fucking cold. "So fuck you."
She leaves her full drink on the bar, meets his eyes one last time, and leaves without saying goodbye to anyone.
That just makes him even angrier, because of course she had to come here and cause a scene, and now he's gonna have to explain to Claire that it was nothing, just old bullshit that didn't mean anything.
And he really hates lying to her.
... ... ...
He can't sleep. Claire bought all his shit about Rachel just throwing him for a loop. He told her Rachel just got upset seeing him moving on, and Claire actually smiled and kissed him. He doesn't think it was much of a lie anyway, considering what was said to him at the bar.
But now he's laying awake with this girl next to him, and he has no idea why the hell he's still so angry. He just hates that Rachel always gets the last word, especially when it never really means anything and he has a lot more questions he wants answered.
So he slips out of bed and walks the six blocks to Rachel's place, knocks on the door probably too loudly, but he's still drunk and he doesn't care.
"Noah," she hisses when she pulls open the door and sees that it's him. Her father is behind her, looking tired and annoyed to be woken up so late at night.
"We gotta talk."
"It's 3:30 in the morning," she says, sounding all pissy.
"Now," he says, almost barks it like an order. Mr. Berry doesn't look too pleased, but Rachel gives him a look over her shoulder and he just goes back upstairs.
She steps outside and tugs the door closed behind her, then leads him into the garage where it's warmer and they won't wake the neighbours if they start yelling. "What are you doing here?"
"Who the fuck d'you think you are?" he asks. She looks scared or something, so he lowers his voice and takes a step away from her. Shit, he was just really close. He can smell her perfume. God, he loves her perfume. "Coming here. Coming tonight. You fuckin'...sat there and talked to her about flowers."
"I didn't want to be rude," she says quietly.
"Fuck that," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "You can fool everyone else, babe, but don't lie to me. Okay? Don't fucking lie to me."
Did he just call her 'babe'? Fuck.
"I had no intentions of seeing you while I was home. I wasn't going to seek you out or be anyplace I thought you might be," she explains seriously. "I didn't...I really didn't want to see you, not after you broke my heart..."
"I broke your heart!" he shouts.
"Not after everything," she says, ignoring him. He knows she hated it before, when he told her she tore him apart as much as he fucked her over. "But then Finn..."
"Finn's a fucking idiot who shouldn't be allowed to talk to you."
She shows just a bit of a smile. "He told me you're engaged, and...I just wanted to see. See her, I guess." He leans back against her dad's SUV, stares at her standing there in her satin nightgown and bare feet. "I wanted to see the woman you love more than me."
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.
"That's not even..." He stops himself before he finishes, runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He feels really sober now, and this conversation sucks.
She shrugs her shoulder. "You'd think I'd be happy," she says. "As soon as I saw you together I knew." He waits for her to finish. He doesn't think he's going to like what she says. "You don't love her more than you loved me."
Okay, what the actual fuck?
He hasn't seen her for three years and she still knows him better than he knows himself.
'Cause all that shit? It's fucking true and he had no idea until she just said it.
"Rachel." Can't think of anything else to say. Might as well say her name. It doesn't taste as bitter as it has since he left New York. "I mean, shit. What do you want me to say to that?"
"I don't know," she admits quietly, looking down. She grabs the hem of her nightgown and plays with the lace there. Fuck, that just makes him want to rip it off her. He steps towards her and bats her hand away. She looks up in time for him to put his hands on his hips and tip his head back. "The truth would be great."
"You mean like how we were fucking awesome together and we fucked it all up?"
"Yeah," she says, laughing bitterly. "That's always been a given." He rubs his forehead. He could really use a glass of water right now. "I still have the ring," she tells him. Fuck, he doesn't need this. "I couldn't...I believe your last words on the matter were 'Pawn it or something. Whatever the fuck you want. I don't want it.' I kept it."
"Since when d'you swear so much?" he asks. It's irrelevant. He doesn't want to talk about the ring or their engagement or the fact that he might still be fucking in love with her or something totally stupid like that.
She steps towards him and ignores his question all together, puts her hands on his wrists and holds them in her own. She's too close, too beautiful and too perfect, and he really can't handle it right now. Or ever.
"You're settling."
He wants to glare at her, and he thinks he tries. He knows he fails. Who the hell is she to say shit like that to him? He should pull himself away from her and repeat what he said at the bar. He should just swear at her. He really, really should leave right now, before she kisses him and he can't stop her, or before he kisses her and she doesn't stop him.
"Rach."
"You are," she insists, holding his wrists tighter. "Even if you and me..." She takes a deep breath. He realizes she's crying. That's not helping. "Even if it's not me, you know it's not her. And you would have married her and had this life, and...I'd hate for you to do that, Noah."
Her eyes are all shiny and she's trying to blink away the tears, and fuck, he shouldn't ask, but he has to.
"Are you still in love with me or something?"
She closes her eyes and then opens them again, looks right at him and shrugs. It's like it's hopeless, like she'll never get over him and she's tried.
To be honest, that's all sounding really fucking familiar right now.
"Fuck," he mutters. This is not what he needs in his life. Actually, fuck it, it might be. He just doesn't want it. Everything's so much easier when he can pretend she doesn't exist. He can just be with someone else and not think about the one woman he let go. "What am I supposed to do with that, Rachel?"
"Don't shout at me!" she says, pulling away. He didn't realize he was shouting. "I'm just trying to be honest."
"Honest!" he cries. "Coulda used that three years ago. If you'd just said...Shit, Rachel. If you'd said you loved me before I left..."
"That goes both ways, too," she says seriously, pointing at him. "You walked out of the apartment without a word. You didn't even tell me you were moving."
"I didn't think you'd care!"
"That's the entire issue!" She's yelling now. He's pretty sure her dads can hear this whole conversation. "You expected so much of me, Noah, and I gave you everything I had. I was exhausted. I had no idea what to say or do to show you...to prove to you that..." She shakes her head, swipes at a tear falling down her cheek. "You never listen, Noah."
"Well, fuck, I'm hearing you loud and clear right now."
She bites her lip hard. He sees the indents her teeth leave. "Good," she whispers.
He rubs his hand over the back of his neck. "What do I do now? I mean...shit."
"Do you love me?" she asks, looking to the floor again.
He answers. Sort of.
"I dunno."
She smiles, looks at him through her eyelashes. She always could tell when he was lying.
"I think," she says quietly, "maybe I kept the ring because I really wanted to wear it again. Someday."
He groans. "Rachel, I can't...I gotta..."
She walks towards him, puts her palm on his cheek and leans up on her toes to kiss the other one. "You know where I am. And you know, my new apartment is much bigger than the old one. Plenty of room for another person." He takes a deep breath. He doesn't know what he's gonna do. Okay, fuck that. Yes he does. "Just think about it."
She walks away, leaves him alone in her garage. To be honest, there's not much to think about at all.
... ... ...
His first order of business when he gets to New York? He drops his shit and tells her to get the ring and put it on her damn finger. When they're in bed later that night and he's using his thumb to move the diamond back and forth, she tells him this is the first time she's put it on since the day she took it off. He doesn't really want to believe her, thinks she might be lying, but she shakes her head and promises. And Rachel Berry is serious about her promises. She said she'd love him forever, and he was the idiot who didn't believe her. He's not going to make that same mistake again.