Rachel:

A Rachel drawer was a bit of an understatement. It was a little more than that. There was the drawer at the bottom of the television cabinet which Quinn had told me about, but there was also a drawer in the bedside table, a shoe box on the top shelf of the closet which I had to get a chair to reach. That was also when I discovered the garment bag right at the back of the closet. At first, I was sure when I pulled down the zip, all I was going to find was a suit. What I had found was my wedding dress. The dress I'd asked Santana to sell – she'd told me she had, even producing the cash to prove it, but there it was, hidden in the depths of Finn's closet.

I now understood what Quinn meant; the evidence of me was all over this place. I sat cross-legged on the living room floor, the drawers and shoe box in front of me. The shoebox was filled with photos – photos of me and Finn together and photos of just me. The bedside table drawer was home to a bottle of perfume I'd always worn, my 'Finn' necklace – another item I'd asked Santana to get rid of. Finn had always liked that necklace, he said when I wore it, and it was like I was wearing heart for everyone to see. There was also a CD which read 'songs for Finn Hudson to pine over Rachel Berry with' – it was written in Santana's familiar script, she'd given it to him. I stood up and popped the CD into the entertainment system, my finger hovering over the 'play' button. I pressed it and the room filled with music, the perfect soundtrack to accompany my exploration of Finn's shrine to me.

I sat back on the floor and looked in the drawer which was from the TV cabinet. It was filled with playbills from College plays I'd been in, plus a few off Broadway ones. They all bore the name Rachel Hudson. There was also some clipping of the reviews I'd received. I realised Finn was proud of me. The evidence of that was right in front of me.

A key rattled in the door and I knew I was about to be face to face with Finn. He walked in and froze when he saw me sitting in the middle of his living room, he had that confused look on his face which I'd always found cute. My heart did a little flip, he looked so good in his school teacher clothes. I bet all the girls had crushes on him, some of the boys too. He stood there watching me watch him. Did he think he could just hand me signed divorce papers and that would be the end of it?

"You didn't really cheat on me with Quinn," I blurted out because one of us had to say something, something to break the suffocating silence. Well, the music was still playing but the silence between me and him.

He let out a shaky breath he'd obviously been holding and dropped his bag onto the chair beside the door; "No. I didn't."

I nodded and gestured around me; "Quite the shrine you've got here," That came out harsher than I intended.

"Yeah, well, I'm probably your biggest fan." He said sincerely, his amber eyes boring into me.

I bit my lip and looked down at the playbills I'd spread out in a semi-circle around me.

"When did you first come to New York?"

Finn sighed, ran a hand through his hair and strode over to where I was sitting. He crouched in front of me, eyeing the playbills until he picked one out and handed it to me. I looked down at it, it was for the first New York play I'd ever been in, and the director had been such a creep.

I looked up at Finn, who had settled himself on the floor; "You came to this play?"

He shook his head; "No. I mean yeah but I came before that. Santana called me in the middle of the night and told me some jerkoff wouldn't let you audition unless you slept with him."

"Why did she call you?"

He shrugged; "She told me to fix it."

"Fix it?"

"Yeah. So I met with the creep and threatened him. Scared the living shit out of him." He looked a little….proud.

"You're the reason I got the part."

"You got the part because you're you. It had nothing to do with me."

I thought it had a little bit to do with him, the director had never hit on me again.

"Why did you do it, Finn?"

"Because the guy was a creep."

I shook my head; "No. Why did you make me believe you didn't want me anymore?"

"I always wanted you, Rachel," he whispered.

I shivered at the intensity in his tone. But now wasn't the time for sweet nothings.

"Finn."

"Your dreams were bigger than this place. They were bigger than me. You said that once, remember?"

Of course I remembered, I'd said it after I'd slapped him when I found out Quinn was pregnant.

"That was before."

"Before what?" He asked.

"Everything." Before him, before us.

"I couldn't let you give up your dreams. Not for me. I couldn't let you stay in this town."

"We could have worked it out. Talked about it. Instead you made the decision without me. Instead you deceived me."

He picked up the 'Finn' necklace and fiddled with it, "I'm sorry. I really am but I did what I thought was best." I could tell from his tortured expression that he truly believed that.

"We could have been together, Finn, if you'd only talked to me instead of five years of pain. Of loving and hating each other."

"I've never hated you, Rachel."

He gave me that little half smile that made him look like the boy I'd fallen in love with when I was sixteen.

"So, now what?"

He sighed; "Now you take those divorce papers and you go back to New York and become the star you were born to be."

"What?" That wasn't what I wanted to hear. I wasn't sure what I wanted to hear but it wasn't that.

Finn shook his head, his eyes looking anywhere but at me; "We were just kids, I had no business convincing you to marry me."

"You regret me?" I asked, blinking back the sudden prickling of tears.

"I don't regret you for me, I regret me for you."

I wasn't sure what he even meant. He'd spent the last few years refusing to divorce me and now he was ready to just let me go.

"I just…I just want you to finally be free of me, Rachel."

The trouble was being entirely free of Finn Hudson seemed and incredibly sad prospect.