A Love Like No Other: The Sequel

Chapter 9

(Brittany's POV)

I knew by me telling Santana about what happened between Joel and I would destroy her, but it would have destroyed me not telling her. I didn't however actually anticipate the day ending in San calling for divorce. Three days I have spent locked away in my room. Rachel and Quinn have had all three of the kids at theirs whilst I have taken time to process everything. I feel guilty, but I know the kids will be okay as they have Santana with them. I switched my phone off, haven't checked my emails, haven't been to work, haven't spoken a word to anyone. I know Mercedes has tried dropping by a few times and so have Kurt and Blaine, I could hear them bickering through the cctv Joel had installed outside the front door.

Oh my god...Joel! I probably have a million and one messages and missed calls from him. But ultimately he is 50% of the issue that is subsequently ending my marriage. Right now I have no intention of speaking to him, or anyone for that fact. I climb out of my bed and take a long look at myself in the mirror. My face looks gaunt, dark circles under my eyes from the crying and lack of sleep. Hair's a mess, clothes dirty and my god I need to take a shower. I can't go on living like this, it's not good for me and it certainly won't be good for the kids when Santana brings them back. I have thought about my kids a lot over the past 72 hours. Who they'll live with, what if they choose Santana over me? How will this affect them? Divorces are tough for the adults, but parents tend to forget the consequences it holds on the children. My boys and Iz deserve to be happy and be part of a loving co-parenting relationship. Right now though, that idea seems far from achievable.

I climb into the shower and let the hot water run down my body, I reach for my body wash and see the half used bottle that Santana would use. I put my body wash down and pick hers up in it's place. I squeeze some into my hand and begin to lather it up all over my body, I close my eyes as I let the familiar scent of coconuts and vanilla fill my nose, it's like Santana is wrapped around me, covering all of me. I allow my mind to lose itself for a moment and relish in the memory of her showering with me. That memory is a little too painful to bare, so I wash myself down and step out the shower. I wrap a towel around me and walk into the bedroom. I stare at my phone on the nightstand where it has remained untouched since returning from Santana's office that night. I walk over and sit on the edge of the bed, I turn my phone on. I allow a few minutes for all the messages to come through. I scroll through and I don't see a single message from Joel. Maybe Santana had him killed? There are some messages from Quinn, Rachel, Kurt, all the usual suspects but nothing from Santana.

I start to dry myself off and change into some sweats and trust me, considering how I have been living for the past few days this is a big step. My phone pings and vibrates and I rush over, hoping to see San's name pop up. But to my disappointment it's Rachel.

"Hey B, really hope you're okay? Haven't heard from you in a few days, just checking in. We are going to keep the kids just one more night, they want to head downtown to this drive in movie thing. They'll be dropped back tomorrow after school. Please text me as soon as you see this. xo"

That's fine, another night to myself. I have a lot of things swirling around in my brain at the moment, too much to comprehend and dissect. I need a channel to release my emotions, so I head down to the gym. I change into a sports bra and some shorts and make the short journey down. I opt for the running machine. I put my AirPods in and hit the road running. I gradually increase the speed of the treadmill, pushing my limits further and further, causing my body to scream out in pain, but I push, running at 23mph, just going and going. Sweat dripping from my body, my leg muscles tightening, but I push through screaming out through the pain until I pushed myself to the brink of breaking and I stop. I run off and throw up into the trash can, I am punishing myself for what I have done. The pain I felt then doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of the pain I have caused my family. I swill my mouth out with water from our fountain and head back upstairs. I take another quick shower and change my clothes and wander downstairs to my empty penthouse.