Chapter 12

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(Santana's POV)

I wake up in my bed the next morning, naked and not remembering how I got there. The last thing I remember is getting up from the table to go to the bathroom. I remember feeling rage, an overwhelmingly, body consuming rage, but I cannot remember what I was so seething about. From there my mind is a little fuzzy, I don't think I drank? My body doesn't feel like it consumed alcohol, no hangover, no headache, just a prominent emptiness. I stretch my arms out and I feel the other side of the bed is warm, like someone had slept there all night, the pillow is dented with the outline of someones head, the sheets crinkled and drowned in a familiar scent. I lay there trying to fit the pieces of my cloudy mind together.

I gather the sheets and wrap them around myself as I hobble to the kitchen, I instantly wince as my bare feet hit the ground. I lift my leg up, grabbing onto my ankle to inspect the bottom of my feet. They're covered in cuts, clean and dressed cuts. Who did this? I put on my sliders and head to the kitchen, I feel dehydrated I need water. I'm sure I didn't drink?  I turn the corner at the end of the hallway and I see the back of someone in my kitchen, wearing one of my hoodies, hood up and so baggy I can't see their figure, whether it's a man or woman. I must know them, they're cooking on my stove, walking around my kitchen, going into my cupboards, my fridge. Showing no sign of being a threat. Yet, they don't know I am stood here. What if it's some psychopath cooking me breakfast before they kidnap me or something?

"...Hello?" I say timidly, my whole body instantly relaxes when I see it's Brittany. Wait, why is Britt here? "Good morning! Thought I'd make you some waffles and bacon. Sit" she motions with the grease riddled spatula to one of the bar stools at the kitchen bar. "You hungry?" she asks not looking at me. "Yeah" I simply reply. I watch as she cooks us breakfast, still trying to figure out why she is here, she obviously slept in my bed, I am naked, did we have sex? Why can't I remember. "Here you go". Britt leans over me, holding her hand lazily on my waist as she sets down my plate. At the touch of her hand I have a flashback to the previous evening, her hips pinning me between her and the sink, her hands on my waist, after that..nothing. She grabs her own plate of food and sits herself down next to me as we eat in peace. I have all of a sudden lost my appetite pushing my food around my plate as I try to fill in the blanks of last night. "I thought you were hungry" Britt says softly. "I'm full...sorry" I say gingerly. She stands up and clears our plates. I hear the clanking of glasses and then the noise of water filling up a glass. She leans over me once more, putting an ice cold glass of water in front of me. For a split second I feel her breath on my bare skin. I have another flashback, I remember her trying to get me to breathe steadily, like she was trying to calm me down. she mentions Joel...what did Joel do?

She reaches the back of her hand up to my face and gently presses it against my cheek and then my forehead trying to gage my temperature. I have another flash back, she's stood there cupping my face, searching my eyes in a bid to find me in the body of a panicked mess. I press my fingers to my lips as I remember feeling hers against mine. We kissed! Then like a truck, everything hits me at once, the reason why I left the dinner table, the reason why I locked myself in the bathroom, why Britt came after me, why she kissed me...but why did she kiss me. My daughter, my baby, my little girl called Joel, Dadda. The familiar lump formed in my throat and I begin to panic again, Britt notices as she drops the dishes in the sink and runs to my side to calm me down again. "What the fuck" I say shakily shooting daggers at Brittany. "You remember now?" she says with dread etched on every inch of her face. "Santana you have to know how sorry I am for what happened last night, it won't ever happen again I swear" Britt croaks through her cracking voice. "Do you know how humiliated I feel? Wife's new boyfriend moving in before our divorce is final, my own daughter calling him Dadda. To then have him fucking parade it in front of all our friends."

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