Random Pezberry Thought of the Day #310
This is a sequel to #309 by the amazing @lightbluenymphadora! Thank you!
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It took about two weeks. Rachel would be the first to admit she wasn’t the best at reading people, but she could read atmospheres. She knew something was still wrong. They’d discussed the whole role play situation, and Rachel knew Santana forgave her. But still….
She couldn’t press things. Santana would come to her when she was ready. So she was an anxious mess for a while as she waited.
Santana got home late again that Friday. She kissed Rachel on the cheek and asked, “Can we talk?”
“Of course.”
“I uh…I hope you don’t mind that I’ve been a little late this week,” Santana said softly as they snuggled up on the couch.
“No…I just assumed you had work or something.”
“Or something. I went…I went back to therapy.”
Rachel scooted a bit so she could look at Santana, properly bewildered. “You did? When? Are you okay?”
“Last week,” Santana answered. “I’m okay. I was…I…. Fuck,” Santana groaned, tilting her head back.
“Hey,” Rachel said, gently taking Santana’s face in her hands. “It’s me. You can talk to me.”
Santana closed her eyes for a moment, remembering her conversations with her therapist.
*
“What would happen if you let it happen?” Sandra asked.
“Huh?” Santana asked.
“If you let Rachel get upset? If you let her cry? What’s the worst that would happen?”
“I…what…I don’t know?” Santana stammered
“Okay, just sit with that question, and this next one, for a moment. Over your years with Rachel…how many things have you left unsaid because you were afraid of her reaction?”
Santana went to snap something back, but paused, and did what her therapist said. She sat with the questions before answering….
*
“Babe, I was still feeling a way after the whole UPS thing. Wait, just…” she said, seeing Rachel about to interrupt. “Let me get this out.”
“Right, sorry,” Rachel said. “Go ahead.”
“It wasn’t…I wasn’t mad or anything, I just…didn’t feel great. So I made an appointment. Figured I never should’ve stopped going so this was as good a time as any to get back in the therapy game. And I just want you to -” Santana cut herself off. She was about to do what she always did - comfort Rachel before talking about what was bothering her. She decided to make the leap and take her therapist’s advice.
Trust yourself, trust your girl, trust your relationship.
“The fight itself was still bothering me,” she said. “And I realized that…it was because of that comment about my fantasy being cheap.”
Rachel’s face crumpled, but she kept the tears at bay. She went to speak again, but Santana shook her head.
“I’m almost done,” Santana told her. “I know we talked about trust and everything. And I know we’ve come a long way in how we communicate with one another, but…I pinpointed what was wrong almost immediately. And I spent the next few days trying to figure out what you meant by ‘cheap’. Did you mean ‘basic porno fantasy that we should be above’? Or did you mean ‘working the pole’? Or that you were thinking I think you are cheap and that’s why you’d be into it? Maybe you meant something else entirely, and I’ll never really know what you find ‘cheap’ sexually. But it brought back a lot of high school memories, and I know we’re three years removed and I should be over it, but it brought it back. Look - I’m not saying you have to critically analyze every word during a fight. I know you probably didn’t mean anything by it really, and were just trying to dance your way out of the situation so to speak. But when you get defensive, you get sort of…elitist. No shade. Both of us prefer name brand and designer to Great Value…but when it’s about me…when it’s about us…it hurts.” Santana stopped, sighed, and looked up at Rachel. “That’s all, I guess.”
Rachel, for her part, was crying. But she was listening. And as much as she wanted to say something like “I’m sorry - I’ll do better,” she knew that all that would do was sweep this under the rug. Close the discussion to get past the discomfort momentarily. But it wouldn’t help. “I think I understand,” she said. “If I were to give you my knee-jerk reaction, I’d probably say that I was thinking about the whole ‘basic porn’ thing. But that’s what I want to say - I don’t really know. It was the first thing that came to my head and I know I can be…flippant, when it comes to our fights.” She paused and kissed Santana. “I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t really help, but I am. And I know I’m crying but it’s a reflex. I know how careful you are when we argue - hell, even when it’s not an argument, just a discussion. And I know you’re careful because you want to make up for high school. I guess what I’m saying is…if you can take my feelings into account even when you’re upset with me, I can work a little harder to do the same for you.”
Santana kissed her and nodded. “Thank you. But I…I just want you to know - I don’t want us walking on eggshells around each other either. I want us to be able to talk about things - bringing up anything with each other.”
“Like now,” Rachel said, smiling.
“Like now.”
“Well…since you brought up therapy…maybe we should go together? Like not to your therapist, but to a couple’s therapist? I know most people go when they’re in trouble, but it might be good to try it out before things go critical. It might give us some tools, you know? One thing about it is…we still operate under the cloud of our past.”
“‘Under the Cloud of Our Past’ would make one hell of a novel title,” Santana joked half-heartedly, trying to clear some of the tension.
“It would - but I’ll leave the novel writing to you, Miss English Major.”
“I think it’s a good idea. The couple’s therapy. Let’s do it.”
Rachel snuggled into Santana and sighed. This was going to take some time, but she was sure they’d be okay.
