This story follows on from my first story and the lives of our favourite glee couple! Six years into married life, three kids and taking on the world together. Will it all be smooth sailing still? Or will a series of events rock the boat and test th...
All I wanted was to get my stuff, possibly talk to Britt about rethinking the divorce and I am faced with that. Ken Doll with his washboard abs, his lustrous thick hair, model smile and perfect package on top of my wife on our couch. God I am so pissed, it's even more annoying because of how insanely beautiful he is. I hate him, but I have to admire his beauty. But still...he was half naked on top of Britt and his Gucci model looks aside, I wanted to ends him. Actually, I don't understand why I didn't go all Lima Heights Adjacent on his peachy ass, instead I froze. I was absolutely fucking mortified to be honest. I had that much anger running through me, I was calm. You ever get that sort of anger? Where you're so calm it's fucking scary, you're still and don't move. You just stand there and allow the anger to sweep over you. Even now driving back to Quinn and Rachel's I am calm, jaw slightly clenched and fingers gripping the wheel a little tighter than they normally would? Yes. But I am calm, I am scaring myself.
My phone starts to ring through the car, it's Brittany. I decline and pull into the garage belonging to the Faberry's. I climb out and my phone starts to buzz, it's Brittany again, I decline again. I get into the elevator and hit the button for their penthouse. My phone rang another two times whilst I was going up the 43 floors it takes to get to their penthouse and twice more I declined Brittany's calls. The elevator pings and the doors open up to a panoramic view of NYC. Quinn and Rachel are sat at their dining table discussing choices for tonights dinner party, the entire gang are in town and are coming over for fancy food and small talk. The absolute last thing I wish to do right now. Rachel requested tonights theme be 'Emmy' themed. Meaning we have to put on our best gowns and tux's, sip Champagne (not me), nibble on appetisers and sit through an excruciating two hour fake ceremony full of fake categories such as 'best dancer' or 'best vocalist' or 'most annoying bitch' between the gang. We have carried out this tradition since we moved to New York, it's usually one of the best nights we end up having. Britt and I would always win 'best couple'...FUCK..Britt was meant to come tonight, even though we were separated we were still on good enough terms that she would come. Fuck knows what's happening now...
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"Oh good Santana you're back! I had your gown steamed and hung for you. It's in your room" Rachel says all too enthusiastically, I reciprocate with a half hearted smile and head to my room. Quinn picks up on my dreary vibe and follows me. "What happened?" She knows not to ask if I am okay, Quinn always knows when something is up with me. I collapse down on my bed, letting out an almighty grunt as I hit the mattress. "He was there" I say, staring up at the ceiling. I feel the bed dip as Quinn sit's on the edge of the bed next to me. "...and?" she asks, knowing there is more to this story. "He was half naked, so was she..." I say, my voice remaining monotone. "Right.." Quinn says, waiting for me to continue. "It wasn't just a one time thing Q" I say, finally sitting up so I am sat upright next to Quinn. "She cheated on me...like full on cheated on me. When I asked her if she liked him, let's just say she didn't exactly say no." my voice cracks from my attempt of fighting back the tears.
