Santana Lopez froze on the sidewalk. It couldn't be. It had been so long.

But it had to be. She could never forget that face. His face. The face that had haunted her unconscious mind.

He turned a corner and she forced herself to breathe. And move. She couldn't stand in a crowded Chicago street forever. She mentally shook herself and went back to her trademark better-than-you walk.

It probably wasn't him anyway. Sebastian Smythe didn't live here. She must have been dreaming.

xxx

A long day at the office was just the thing to make her forget about him. Being a lawyer wasn't easy, but it was just was Santana was good at: convincing people she was right. She was good at her job. She loved her job.

And she loved going home. Brittany was at home.

Well, most of the time. Sometimes she was rehearsing. But when Santana turned the key to their small apartment she smiled, knowing that her girlfriend was waiting on the other side.

"Santana!" she yelled as Santana was enveloped in a bone crushing hug.

"Let up a bit, Britt, I need those bones if you want me to hug you back." The two girls adjusted accordingly and exchanged a kiss.

"I made you dinner," Brittany said, her eyes lighting up. Santana couldn't get over how lucky she was to have Brittany. Beautiful, sexy, and sweet all wrapped up in one package.

"You didn't have to, Britt," she said as the blond led her to their already set dinner table.

"I wanted to. Now sit here while I go and get it." Brittany pranced out of the dining/living room and into the adjoined kitchen. "Here you are." She placed the steaming dish in the middle of the table and sat down opposite Santana, her eyes twinkling.

"So what did you make me?" Santana asked as she began to dish out the browish burnt-smelling liquid into their bowls. As much as she loved Brittany, she couldn't say the same for her cooking skills.

"It's a recipe I found on the internet, do you like it?" Santana held back a grimace as she tasted the soup.

"It's delicious," she lied. As with most things, there was no need to burst Brittany's bubble. She lived in her own world. There was no reason that she should be taken out of it.

"Guess who I saw at work today!" Brittany said once she had drained her bowl.

"Who did you see?" Santana took her hand, fully expecting her girlfriend to have seen Azlan dancing on stage.

"Sebastian!" Santana's heart stopped. She had almost forgotten about the incident this morning. "You know, from Dalton?" Brittany reminded, taking Santana's silence for forgetfulness.

"Ya-yes. I remember him," she responded from far away. Her brain had gone into overdrive. "What was he doing there?" She prayed it wasn't something time consuming.

"He's going to be in our next musical, are you okay, San? You look pale," Brittany rubbed concerned circles on her girlfriend's hand. But she was too far gone to notice. Musical. With Brittany. She couldn't imagine what Sebastian would do to someone as fragile as Britt. What he would do if he found out she was living with Brittany.

She couldn't do this. She had to leave. Get out. Go back to Ohio if it was necessary. Anything. Being on the same continent was bad enough, but the same city? She couldn't do it. No.

But what if- No. She wouldn't let herself finish that thought. She had been trapped by it for long enough before she got away.

"Santana? Are you okay San? Please answer me." Santana looked up into those pleading blue eyes. She couldn't leave Britt. Any she couldn't take her away, not since she was settling in so well.

"Yah, Britt, I'm fine. Just a bit surprised. I thought he was busy being a famous prick, I didn't think we'd be seeing him any time soon." Brittany looked slightly appeased by the lie.

"He came here because the studio wanted more publicity. A celebrity in our midst brings more crowds." Santana nodded. It made sense.

"You know what, Britt, I am feeling a little ill, I think I'll turn in early tonight."

"You've barely touched your soup!" The blond picked up the bowl full of brown liquid and held it out to Santana. "You need to eat, or else you won't be healthy!"

"No, thanks, I don't think it would sit well in my stomach." Brittany's eyes snapped from excited to worried in an instant.

"Well then you go lie down and I'll clean this up," she ordered.

"Anything you want, sweetie," Santana bent down and kissed her lightly, savoring the taste. "I'll see you in a bit." She made her way to the bedroom, stripped to her underwear and nuzzled herself under the comforter.

Slowly, she lifted her arm towards her face. There it was, clear as day. The scar.

Bodies pressed together and everything was teeth and tongues and why oh why had she given up on boys everything was oh so good- but why did her arm hurt so much? Were those his nails digging into her skin?

It hadn't been his nails. Not really. He had put on fake nails, just to see her bleed. That was the first scar. The only one she ever let anyone other than Britt see. But even Britt didn't know the real cause. She thought they were marks from cupid, continually stabbing Santana, keeping her hopelessly in love with her blond dancer.

She traced the mark. It had been years since it had been fresh. Years since he had gone gallivanting off to Hollywood to become a big star and leave her with the wounds.

She had been doing so well. She rarely thought of him anymore, and when she did, it was always in a negative manner. She squeezed her eyes shut.

She hated him, she did. No one should be treated the way he had treated her. She hated him. Right?

She felt Brittany slide in beside her. She clung to the arms wrapped around her, Brittany, her rock, her everything. She hated Sebastian. Yes, she did.