A Love Like No Other: The Sequel

Chapter 2

(Santana's POV)

(Two Months Later)

Over the last 6 years there has been a lot of change in my life. I am married to my person, I carried and gave birth to my twin boys, welcomed a third baby into our family. As well as changes in my professional life. I am still involved obviously with the company, but have taken a step back to focus on the music label I have successfully built from scratch. I would consider myself a happy person, I have everything my heart could ever wish for. To an outsider, I have the world, my life is perfect. Which to a degree it is, but I have this ache in my heart that sits there constantly, weighing down on my chest, trying to suffocate me. It only occurred after Isabella was born. Now, let's not get it twisted for one second, I love my baby girl so much it hurts, but something isn't sitting right. I am scared to love her too much, I am scared to build too much of a strong relationship with her and I think it all comes back down to losing my parents, specifically my mom. My bond with my mom was so solid, she was my best friend. So when I lost her I didn't know what to do with myself, I drank myself into oblivion. When Iz was first born I doted on her like my mother doted on me, my world was all about my daughter. Britt hardly got a look in. But, I began to notice the similarities between my love and the relationship with my mom and the love and relationship with my daughter, it scared me. I pulled away. I made Britt take over the night feeds, pick her up when she cried out, change the diapers, everything. It broke my heart doing it, but I have convinced myself that if I get too close with Iz, what happened to my parents would similarly happen to me and I would be ripped away from my kids, from Iz and they would be left with the same heartbreak I was. I don't know if its because of the mother-daughter relationship that I started to think like this or what? So I convinced myself it was in everyones best interests if I stepped back, distanced myself. It was subtle at first, but Britt started clicking on and is getting pissed at me. Once a week after a few months of Iz being born I have been speaking to a therapist, over the phone or on FaceTime. Since being back in the country I have face to face meetings with her once a week. I have kept this secret to myself, riddled with guilt and shame if Britt found out, she would think I was a bad mom. Because what parent would take a step back for loving and raising their kids? I hate how my mind works sometimes.

"Hey babe, can you take Iz to crèche today, I gotta drop the boys at school." She asks whilst trying to shove a reluctant Luca's foot into his shoe. "Put your foot in your shoe please". She asks Luca whilst waiting for my answer. "I can't, I'm sorry. I've got a meeting" I say meekly, guilty that I can't do the one thing she's asking me to do. But I've got to go and see my therapist, the therapist Britt doesn't know about. "Seriously? You can't take the small detour on your way to the office to take your daughter to creche?" Britt is getting increasingly annoyed, Iz is screaming her head off, Luca is reluctant to put his shoe on and Thiago is running around in his underwear refusing to get dressed. "No Britt I can't. I have to be there by 9:30" I say as I finish putting my heels on. "Santana please? I have interview this morning for new dance instructors, I need you to do this". She is still battling with Luca's foot. "Call the nanny, or get the concierge to take her".

"LUCA PUT YOUR SHOES ON! SANTANA DO YOU THINK YOU CAN YOU HELP WITH ANY OF OUR KIDS PLEASE?!" I watch as Britt snaps, because of me. Because I won't take Iz to creche, who is now wailing even louder than before. I walk over and move Britt out of the way and hold tight onto Luca's ankle putting his foot in his shoe. "Foot. Shoe. Now" I say in a firm tone to my son, bending down to his eye level. He quietens down and does as he's told, I can hear Britt scoffing behind me. I then get up and take Thiago by the hand and lead him to his room to get him dressed for school. Within 5 minutes we are walking back out into the kitchen, both boys ready for school. They're sat eating their cereal quietly under my stern gaze. "Santana, a word" Britt isn't asking, she's telling. We go into her office, you could cut the tension with a knife. "Look, I don't know what the hell is going on with you, we have been back from vacation for two months and you have been cold, distant and disinterested, in fact you were like that before we even got home. That night at the piano, you said you were worried about your relationship with Iz and the boys, that you were scared, I listened to you, reassured you. Things seemed to be okay for a while, but now it's worse than ever. I think you need to get help, something needs to give." She stands in anticipation for my response. I can't bring myself to tell her I am seeking help, I feel too ashamed. I stand, bowing my head down, looking at my feet. Britt scoffs in exasperation. "I got to take our boys to school and then take our daughter to creche." She storms out of the office as I stand there in reflection of the mornings antics.