Brittana- Invisible String

Chapter 13

It was 3am, and an exhausted Santana rocked her crying ten-day old daughter back and forth. Nothing she was doing was working, and she couldn't help but feel a failure.

"Mila...shh, shh" she soothed, bouncing the infant gently in her arms. Suddenly her bedroom door opened, to reveal a concerned looking George.

"My life's over Dad" Santana wailed, frustrated

"Why don't you let Abuelo have a try?" George said gently, holding his arms out to take baby Mila. Santana gladly obliged, helplessly handing her daughter over.

"You know, I still remember the drive home from the hospital when you were born" George said, as he rocked Mila gently "You screamed blue murder, the whole journey home. I was so scared I jumped three red lights, lost my license".

"You've never told me that before" said Santana, studying her father.

"You weren't part of the club" he smiled, before turning his attention back to Mila.

Santana watched lovingly as he tended to Mila. He was strict, but to Santana he had been the best dad in the world, and a great role model. She felt comforted knowing he had struggled before. Maybe she wasn't a failure. Maybe this was just what being a parent was all about.

It was 3am, and an exhausted Brittany sighed in satisfaction as she settled back into her bed, working to catch her breath. Suddenly a tight arm grabbed at her and pulled her in close, and a pang of nausea hit her.

She bolted up and flew into the bathroom, grateful to have an en-suite, and hurled the contents of the night's alcohol into the basin.

"Damnit Brittany, why did you drink so much" she said to herself

"Oh. bloody charming that is!" a voice from the bedroom laughed. For a moment she had forgotten the British boy was even there.

She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, or the one-night stand, but suddenly she felt really shit. She gathered herself, grabbed her robe and headed shamefully back into her bedroom.

"Yeah sorry about that, one too many Tequila slammers" she mustered a laugh "Actually... sorry but...would you mind leaving? I'm really not feeling so good now, and I could do with just having my bed to myself and sleeping it off".

The British boy frowned.

"Oh come on babes! I thought we could fit in at least another round. We were having fun" he said, pulling back the blanket to reveal his naked form, and thrusting his hips in a way that made Brittany cringe so hard she thought she may throw up again.

"No, you really need to go" Brittany warned firmly, throwing his discarded clothes over to him "now please".

The boy tutted and got dressed, clearly agitated.

"Your loss sweetheart!" he snarked, as he walked out the door. As soon as it slammed Brittany started to cry. She felt like a mess.

This wasn't the first one-night stand she'd had in New York to mask the huge feeling of loneliness she had hanging over her, and despite always thinking it was a good idea at the time, she never felt great afterwards.

New York life wasn't all it had cracked up to be, and she put that down to Santana not being there with her. This wasn't the life they had carved out. She found it difficult to fit in and had so far struggled to make friends and adapt to the fast-paced city life. She had always lived life somewhat in Santana's shadow. Santana was extrovert and confident (on the outside anyway, only Brittany got to see her vulnerable side), and she always led the way. Brittany, just fell into place, and it worked. Now she was having to take the lead for once, and she was struggling. There had been a few times she had come close to calling it quits and going home, but knowing Santana would be there soon, she had powered through.