Chapter Eleven

The month before the wedding was, for Kurt (and he could only assume for Finn and Rachel and Burt and Carole and everyone else involved), a blur.

He had been sucked into the planning very quickly. Rachel had come to him, hysterical, about how she was in desperate need of help because she was still working on finishing the show and constantly traveling back and forth, not to mention actually deciding what the hell she was going to do once she was married, since she and Finn had built slightly separate lives for themselves over the years, in two very different places.

Kurt had gladly accepted to help with her wedding (because how could he not?), and she was able to relax. Slightly, at least.

There were still countless bumps that occurred along the way. Somehow, Kurt had found himself caught in the middle after agreeing to be Finn's best man (but not with a little objection, making sure a dozen times that he really didn't want it to be Puck?). Rachel had nearly lost it, shouting that Kurt was her best friend, and supposed to be her maid of honor (which he only took slight offense in, as he obviously was not a girl). Thankfully Kurt, with Carole's help, had come up with the solution that he could easily be both, they just needed to change a couple things, and in the end, Kurt had to admit it made things a little easier, both on the cost (though Rachel's dads didn't have any problem with that) and Kurt's self-assigned duty to ensure that the toasts made were appropriate, considering he'd be the one writing them, now.

Then, suddenly, it just seemed to be over. After months of quick and thorough planning, the day for the wedding came. And, much to Kurt's relief, it was perfect. When it came down to the reception, he stepped back, admiring the scene. Finn and Rachel were dancing happily, along with others. It was bright, and somehow the most beautiful day the summer had seen yet. And for the entirety of the New Directions attending, Kurt had to marvel at the fact that there hadn't been a single moment of drama.

He watched as Ella danced with Blaine, the small girl in her very own princess dress and a wreath on top of her head, and who Rachel had assured him was the perfect flower girl. Off playing with Mike and Tina's son was Aiden, the little ring bearer.

The guests had eaten, they'd had their champagne, and the cake had been cut. Now they were simply relaxing and enjoying the festivities, and Kurt was leaning against the gift table, feeling rather pleased with the way it had all turned out.

Suddenly, a woman joined him, leaning back against the table. He watched as she took a long drag from her cigarette. “I thought you gave up smoking,” he said conversationally. Quinn turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

“Does it matter?” she asked. Kurt shrugged. There was a quiet pause. “I took it up again when my husband started cheating on me.” Kurt nodded quietly and Quinn gazed at him for several long moments before looking away. “I used to hate you, you know. In high school.”

“I never would have guessed,” he said sarcastically.

“Not for the reasons you probably think,” she continued. “You probably can't see how perfect your life was. A father who loved you, even when you admitted the biggest secret of your lifetime. A boy who loved you unconditionally. You had friends and grades and a voice... you had everything.”

Kurt laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I lived the high life,” he said. “Being thrown in dumpsters, shoved into lockers, and slushied, long before any of you had to put up with it from Glee, all because of my sexuality. And let's not forget when my dad, my only family, almost died, or when I was voted Prom Queen by my peers, or when I was sexually harassed by one of my bullies, who then threatened to kill me so I had to change schools. And did I mention that all that happened within the course of just a few months? That sounds like a great life.” He sighed. “You know, I always kind of hated you too. But mostly, I just felt sorry for you. You could have had the perfect life, but every time you were close, you threw it all away.”

She licked her lips, flicking her cigarette and grounding it into the dirt with the toe of her heeled shoe. “You're right,” she said casually. “I'm a fuck-up, Kurt. And not just now, not because of my sham of a marriage. I think I always have been one. If I had never cheated on Finn in the first place all those years ago, maybe this would be my wedding.”

“You honestly think you'd be happier with him?” Kurt asked, and Quinn laughed dryly.

“Probably not,” she admitted. “Happier than I am now, but still not what I want in life.”

“And what do you want?”

She glanced at him curiously. “You wanna know something funny? I haven't been very faithful. Ever. I cheated on Finn, on Sam, on Joe, on my husband... Of course, I got smart about it—never did it in the house. He's an idiot, so he did, but I caught all that on camera and plan on using it in court to ring him dry. I doubt he'll ever know I did the same to him.” She smiled slightly, shaking her head. “I cheated on every guy I was ever with... except one.”

“Puck,” Kurt responded immediately.

She nodded. “Puck,” she repeated. “He was the only one I decided to leave, too. I'll probably never understand why...” She trailed off, and Kurt considered her response to his question, if it could be considered one. Eventually she sighed, pulling out her pack of cigarettes again. “Sometimes I wonder why it all happened, or how things would be different. If I had stayed with Puck through junior year, or if we had gotten Beth back... I wonder if my husband would have cheated if I hadn't miscarried his baby. My life sucks, and I get that I didn't do much to help it, but the things that just happened and I didn't cause them... I wonder why.”

“I wonder the same thing,” Kurt said as Quinn put the cigarette to her lips and pulled out her lighter. “Believe me, I do.”

She nodded, thoughtfully. “I'm sorry,” she said, taking a long drag from her cigarette and blowing out a cloud of smoke. “Nobody deserves to lose their husband like that.”

“And nobody deserves to lose their child,” he responded.

She jerked her head slightly to where Ella and Aiden were playing in the grass. “That your son?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he responded, watching as Blaine swept each of the children in his arms, throwing them over his shoulder so they were squealing and laughing. He smiled slightly.

“Something going on between you two?” she asked, and Kurt bit his lip.

“I... I don't know,” he admitted.

Quinn nodded in understanding. “Not to rush you, but you should try and figure it out,” she commented. “Don't let him get away, or you'll definitely regret it.”

“Speaking from experience?”

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug before walking off, to where Artie and Mercedes were chatting.

A moment later, Blaine came walking toward him with a grin on his face. “I'm holding these two captive,” he said calmly, with a smile, turning slightly so that Kurt could see them where they were slung over Blaine's shoulders. “Any idea what I should do with them?”

Kurt chuckled slightly, the children still yelling and giggling. “I don't know,” he said seriously. “If they were behaving, I'd say to let them have a bit of cake. But they seem to be making an awful amount of noise.”

“No no no!” Ella quickly squealed. “We'll be quiet! Shh, Aiden, we need to be quiet! See, Kurt?” The two quickly quieted themselves, only letting out quiet giggles between their tiny fingers.

“Well, then I suppose...”

“Cake?” Blaine asked.

“Cake,” Kurt nodded, and Ella and Aiden cheered slightly before clapping their hands over their mouths again to stay quiet. With a grin and a wink, Blaine walked off with the kids, and Kurt smiled after him. He let his eyes roam over the masses of people, finally laying on the table where his parents were sitting. He watched as his father patted Carole's hand before walking off in the direction of some clients. Instantly, he began walking over to his stepmother.

She glanced up as he got closer to her, beaming at him as he took a seat across from her. “You did a marvelous job, sweetheart,” she told him, instantly taking his hands in hers. He looked down at them for a moment, wondering when it was they had started to wrinkle, remembering how it seemed to be such a short time before that he was planning her wedding to his father. He grinned at her in response. “And thank you for the reminder about the waterproof mascara,” she added with a wink.

He chuckled. “Please, I almost cried when they said their vows,” he told her, and she laughed.

“Have you been enjoying yourself?” she asked. “Or have you been too busy making sure that everyone else is?”

“You don't think I'm capable of both?” he inquired teasingly, and she raised her eyebrows knowingly. “I promise, I'm having fun.”

She merely hummed in response. “Tell me, love, how are you, right now?” she asked in a soft voice.

He shrugged. “I'm fine,” he assured her. “Should I not be?” She shrugged slightly, her eyes boring into his own, as though they could see something much deeper than shades of blue and green. He shifted slightly under her gaze. “Can I... ask you something?” he asked suddenly, softly.

“Anything,” she responded, and he nodded, pausing slightly.

“When did you... get over Finn's father?” he asked in a hushed tone.

She froze momentarily before smiling a soft, sad smile. “I never did,” she admitted. “The same way that your father never got over your mother.” She tilted her head slightly. “Honey, nobody expects you to 'get over' your loss. It's not something that you just forget about and move on. You learn to live with it and you find a way to be happy again. And sweetheart, I think you're well on your way to doing that.”