Kurt and Mercedes, in times of grieving, always picked up strange hobbies. When Mercedes lost her first job, they took up recycling their own paper out of receipts and using it to make origami. When Kurt had gotten laughed out of his first audition on Broadway, they got into glass bead blowing and selling jewelry on Etsy. Now was no different. Which perfectly explained why two young adults in their mid-twenties were in Central Park at 9am on a Sunday morning, playing a rousing game of chess, dressed in head to toe plaid, and speaking in British accents.

“Why, I do say, Kurt, that was a jolly good move on your part,” Mercedes said, waving her cane around in the air.

“Why, thank you, my dear Mercedes,” replied Kurt, sipping some Earl Grey from his teacup.

“Alright you guys, this is ridiculous. I can't believe you guys are here right now.” Rachel was standing next to the small, foldable table where they were playing. She had her arms crossed and an indignant look on her face.

“Guys, look, I am on your side, okay. I completely understand where you're coming from. But why don't you at least try to see them, huh? It's been a week and you haven't spoken a word to them since… well you know… the incident.”

Mercedes looked up at Rachel.

“Why should we have to look for them? You tell me that. They're the ones who screwed up. Why should we have to do anything? They're the ones who need to apologize.”

“Well you haven't exactly given them the opportunity to! How many times has Sam called you, Mercedes?”

“At least twenty times  a day.”

“And how many times have you answered?”

“None,” she says, but without a shred of guilt. “Anyone can just pick up a phone, Rachel. He needs to come to me if he wants me to accept his apology.”

“Alright,” Rachel said, mentally taking notes. “What about you Kurt?”

He looks at her through teary eyes. He hadn't been able to stop crying for the entire week.

“I-I…”

“Kurt, come on. You know that you can talk to me,” Rachel said, patting him on the back.

“I don't know,” he sniffled. “To be honest, I feel like I'm going to take him back. Part of me knows that I'll have to forgive him eventually. I have to. I have to stay married to him, and I don't want to be miserable. I just feel like I can't forgive him, because, I don't even know how he feels about me.”

Alright, I can use this, Rachel thought to herself.

“You know what? You two have fun. I'll meet you back at the apartment for dinner. Is that alright?”

“Yeah sure, fine,” Mercedes said snappily, while Kurt barely managed a slight nod.

Blaine and Sam are making pizza when they hear the pounding on the door this time. Blaine simply looks at Sam and nods his head in the direction of the door. They both know who it'll be.

“Rachel! What a surprise!” Sam says sarcastically.

“Oh, hush,” she replies, and walks in while dropping her oversized purse on the couch.

“Well, I'm sorry if I'm a little snappy, but you've been coming over every day, and nothing you've suggested has worked so far.”

“That's because you two assholes aren't trying hard enough! Sam, you've called Mercedes, but have you actually tried to see her?”

Sam hung his head a little guilty.

“I'm too afraid of what she'd throw at me.”

“Exactly, you coward. And Blaine,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and looking at him. He avoided eye contact, instead focusing his gaze on the rolling out dough with a rolling pin.

“Look at me,” Rachel demanded.

He looked her in the eye for the first time that night. She noticed that his eyes were a fierce red color, as if he had been crying nonstop.

“Have you even tried taking to Kurt?”

He sighed and shook his head.

“No, I haven't.”

“And why is that?”

“Because… well I don't know what I'd say!” he proclaimed, flailing his hands around in the air. “I screwed up, insanely. I ruined the best thing that's ever happened to me, and… and what am I supposed to say to that? How do you apologize for making the worst mistake you've ever made in your entire life?!”

Rachel looks at Blaine with a surprising amount of calm.

“Well, you can start by using your words. You could try talking to him. Maybe he'll react differently than you assume he will.”

Blaine shakes his head.

“I can't even ask him to forgive me, because I would never forgive something like what I did.”

“You wouldn't forgive Kurt if he did the same to you?”

“I don't know,” Blaine says quietly.

Rachel sighs and rolls her eyes as she throws her hands up in surrender.

“I can't help you if you don't want to be helped, Blaine Anderson. Do you even want Kurt back? Or are you just wasting my time?”

“No, I want him back, more than anything.”

“Well then go get him back! What the hell are you waiting for?!”

“Um, I don't know about you guys, but I'm still clueless about what to do to win Mercedes back,” Sam announced.

Rachel sighed in frustration.

“You guys are so hopeless. Here's an idea. Ask them to meet in a special place. Somewhere romantic. Bring flowers, or chocolates, or whatever,” she said, voice raising on the last word, “and win them back, or so help me.”

With that, she snatched up her giant-sized purse and left.

Mercedes picked up her phone reluctantly when it buzzed.

“God, I hope this isn't Sam calling me again.”

“Oh, come on Mercedes. Why don't you wanna see him?”

“Are you crazy? Do you want to see Blaine, Kurt?”
“Yes, I do actually. Very badly. But unlike your man, mine hasn't texted me or bothered communicating at all,” Kurt said, eyes shining with tears.

Mercedes looked at her best friend in pity.

“Kurt, I'm sure he'll call or something…”

“No, Mercedes, stop making excuses for him. If he had wanted to call, he would've by now, and…” Kurt's voice started breaking as he spoke, and Mercedes could tell he was about to start full-on crying. Thankfully, he was interrupted by his own phone buzzing. Kurt looked at it like it was some alien creature.

“Please tell me you're going to pick that up,” Mercedes said.

Kurt reached over to pick up his phone, which was face down on the coffee table.

“Crap! It's Blaine! He's calling! Oh God, what do I do?!”

Mercedes rolled her eyes.

“Answer it!”

It stopped ringing before he could pick it up, but thankfully, a text message followed only a few seconds after. Kurt read it and looked at Mercedes with wide eyes.

“He wants to meet me to talk! At Central Park! Oh my gosh, that's where we had our first kiss! I think he's gonna apologize!”

“He better!” Mercedes exclaimed. “It's about damn time that he-”

She was interrupted by her own phone vibrating. She rolled her eyes and picked the device up.

“Sam texted me, apparently he wants to meet and talk.”

Her eyes were full of disgust and anger, but Kurt's shined with hope. She didn't want to forgive Sam, but Kurt's optimism was contagious.

“Since when were you this optimistic anyways? The Kurt Hummel I know always came with a side of sass and sarcasm.”

Kurt smiled mischievously.

“Well, that was Kurt Hummel. Kurt Anderson-Hummel, on the other hand, is a much happier fellow. And, he's about to go get his husband back.”

They met later the next day, early in the morning. It was summer, and fairly warm for New York City, but a cooler breeze blew past, somehow bringing the scent of lavender, and making for an altogether delightful experience. Kurt was the first to arrive, and he waited hopefully at the bridge in Central Park when they had their first kiss.

When Blaine got there, holding the red and yellow roses behind his back, he saw Kurt and his heart swooped a little.

“Hey, Kurt.”

He turned around, eyes glimmering, and smiled slightly at Blaine. It was a smile full of pain, but still a smile nonetheless.

“Blaine,” Kurt said, voice barely above a whisper.

Blaine pulled the flowers from behind his back.

“These are for you,” he said simply.

Kurt accepted them and grasped the stems hard. Blaine was definitely glad that he had told the florist to cut the thorns off. His husband was holding them so hard, that his knuckles were turning white.

Kurt had so much that he wanted to say, but he waited for Blaine to start talking.

“Kurt, sweetie, I'm so sorry.” He grabbed one of his husband's hands. “I know that nothing I say will ever be a good excuse for the way I treated you. And I understand if you want to hit me, or punch me, or say something nasty. I deserve all of those things, and more. I was a fool. I hurt you, and…” Blaine shook his head, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “I'm just so sorry, Kurt.” He inhaled deeply.

“I know that me apologizing isn't going to be enough, and I know that you probably feel like you can never trust me again. And I missed your opening night. God, I tried so hard to be there for that. And I feel like shit for being so distant, and not being supportive. I would really like to try and make this work, Kurt. Can I at least try to earn back your trust?”

Kurt nodded his head vigorously and closed the distance in between them for a tight hug. Blaine could feel the wetness of Kurt's tears on his neck.

“I hate the fact that you felt you had to lie to me, and that you kept something from me, but I want to make this work too.” Kurt was speaking quietly in his ear, his voice broken by quiet sobs. “A-and I understand why you did it. I know that this was really important to you, a-and I just shut you down, and I-” Kurt's crying had grown louder at that point. He was inhaling sharply and shallowly, and Blaine could see that he was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Shh, Kurt, stop. It's not your fault, this is all on me.” Blaine placed a comforting hand on his husband's back and started rubbing circles to calm him down. The action didn't work, and instead, made Kurt cry even harder. He clutched the front Blaine's shirt, with a fist balled up tightly.

“I-I just thought I was going to lose you, because at first it seemed l-like you didn't want to see me, and I thought that you were done with me, a-and I c-couldn't bear to see you go-”

“Kurt, calm down honey. You're starting to get hysterical.”

“I can't help it!” he cried, sobbing even harder.

“Kurt, I was just trying to give you space. Of course I was gonna come back and apologize. I care about you so much.”

“Oh Blaine,” Kurt breathed out, putting his arms around Blaine and giving him a tight hug. Blaine gave him a light kiss on the forehead.

“I love you,” Kurt whispered.

Blaine stiffened.

“You… what?”

Kurt pulled back and looked him in the eyes.

“I said that I love you,” he replied, bringing his hand up to Blaine's chest and smoothing out the wrinkles he had made in the shirt. He looked at Blaine with a hopeful look in his eyes, obviously expecting a response. But Blaine pulled away and took a few steps back. He seemed confused.

“Kurt, you really love me? How? I… I lied to you. And I missed your opening night, and I…”

“I know,” Kurt said, taking a step closer to Blaine, “but I can't help myself. Yes, the thing you did was awful, but I love you, and one mistake can't erase that.”

He reaches for Blaine again, to wrap him in another hug, but Blaine takes another few steps back.

“I...I,” he takes a deep breath. “Kurt, I don't.”

Kurt looks at him, confused again, wrinkling his nose and furrowing his brow in a sad but adorable way.

“Don't what?”

“I... don't love you back.”

“W...What?”

“I can't...I just don't. I mean, I care about you, I like you and everything, but we haven't even been together that long to say ‘I love you,' and I… I don't think I feel the same.”

“Oh…” Kurt said, taking a few slow steps backwards, almost tripping over nothing in the process.

“Kurt, wait…”

“I-I just thought that you… felt the same way I did… you really don't…”

Blaine could see new tears forming in Kurt's eyes.

“It's nothing against you, it's just that,” Blaine sighed, patiently searching for the right words. “It's just that I haven't really been able to think about you much lately. It's hard to be filled with love when all I feel is hate.”

“Hate towards what, Blaine? Towards me?” Kurt managed to whisper, feeling more than devastated.

“No, towards these people, Kurt! These people who made us get married, who think they know what's best for everyone! Aren't you angry at them too?”

Kurt looked at Blaine incredulously.

“Well… yeah, but aren't you at least a little thankful?”

“Thankful?! For what, Kurt? For having our lives ruined? For being forced to get married against our wills?”

Kurt crossed his arms, instantly moving from depressed to angry.

“Well, no, I was going to say that if that stupid Match law didn't exist, we would've never gotten married. But apparently you'd rather have that, wouldn't you?”

Blaine realized what he was saying.

“Kurt…”

“No, answer me this Blaine,” he said in a bitter tone. It was the first time that Blaine had seen Kurt truly angry in a very long time. “If tomorrow, they decided to revoke this Match law, and let everyone get their marriage annulled, would you do it? Would you leave me?”

Kurt was shaking at this point. His voice was flat, almost robotic as he spat the words out. Blaine was stunned into silence. He hadn't thought about it that way, and he didn't know how to respond.

“K-Kurt…”

He dropped the flowers at Blaine's feet.

“It's a simple yes or no question. It shouldn't take you that long to answer.” His voice was cracking again, and Kurt knew that he was on the verge of crying.

“I...I still care about you…”

“But not enough to stay married to me.” It devastated Kurt to know that it wasn't even a question, just a cold hard statement of truth.

Blaine didn't say anything, just looked at Kurt with some sort of sad emotion in his eyes. Kurt decided that he had had enough for the day. He spun around on his heel and walked away, leaving Blaine standing on the bridge alone.

Kurt returned to Rachel's apartment a few hours later, after wandering around and weaving in and out of bagel shops and quaint European bakeries all over New York City. When he got there, he found Rachel and Mercedes gabbing happily, laughing and talking as if everything were fine. When Jesse opened the door and let Kurt in, it didn't take much time for the girls to see that something was wrong. There was an awkward silence for a few moments; no one wanted to confirm what everyone was thinking. Kurt finally cleared his throat and said something.

“So, Mercedes, how did your date with Sam go?”

He didn't look her in the eyes, and his voice sounded raw- possibly from crying? She

hesitated, not wanting to sound too excited, for his sake.

“It went really well. Sam apologized, and he explained everything. He said that he was really sorry, and we're gonna try and work things out.”

“That's good,” Kurt responded, still not looking up. “Did you forgive him?”

“Yeah, I did, actually. I mean, he explained that a lot of it had to do with his little sister. She's only eighteen, but she'll have to get matched soon, and Sam just really wanted to save her from that.” Mercedes cleared her throat nervously. She wanted to ask, but didn't dare. Rachel finally broke the silence.

“What about you, Kurt? How did your meeting go with Blaine?”

Finally, he looked up at them. His eyes were a burning red, as if he had been crying nonstop all day, or as if he had spilled shampoo in them.

“I don't think I wanna talk about it,” he said, crossing his arms in a way to comfort himself.

“Oh, Kurt,” Rachel and Mercedes made a move to comfort him in a hug, but he backed away.

“No, it was a mistake coming here. I-I'm just gonna go. I'll call you guys later or something.”

“Kurt!” Mercedes said, trying to stop him with her words. But he was already out of the door.

Kurt found himself at the theater, three hours early for rehearsal. He's not quite sure why he came here, but he figured that as long as he was there, he might as well stay. He had been neglecting practice a little since the huge fight with Blaine, and it was about time he got back to work. He already knew all of his dance moves and songs, obviously, so he decided sing some songs from one of his favorite musicals, Gypsy.

He was halfway through Rose's Turn, and doing wonderfully, he could tell, but he couldn't stop thinking about Blaine. With every lyric, every twist and turn of his body, all he could think about was Blaine, how he had lied to him, betrayed him, missed his opening night. How Kurt loved him. And he didn't think he was ever going to be able to stop. He tripped at one point, and fell on his ass, hard. He didn't get up, even though he wasn't in any serious pain. Kurt just laid on the ground, back on the wood floor, skin pressed up cool against it.

So this is what real heartbreak feels like, thought Kurt. He had loved Blaine with everything that he had to give, with all his heart. And Blaine treated him like he was dispensable.

Like I don't even matter.

He hadn't felt this worthless or unloved since sophomore year at McKinley, when, for a little while there, he actually toyed with the idea of killing himself. He didn't feel that way now, not entirely. But he didn't exactly feel good either. This didn't even make sense! Kurt was the one who had hated Blaine for the longest time, who loathed the idea of marrying him. How had the tables turned? How had Kurt ended up the desperate one, the one who wasn't loved in return? He thought he had escaped these feelings in high school.

He laid on the floor for a few hours, doing nothing but thinking to himself and singing said Sam Smith songs in a weak voice. When the other lead of the musical, Elliott, walked in for  rehearsal later, that's how he found Kurt.

“Dude, are you okay?” he asked Kurt.

Kurt barely squints his eyes open at him.

“I think I'm dying.”

“Woah, from what?”

“From having my heart murdered.”

Elliott nodded in understanding.

“Blaine problems still going on?”

Kurt sighed and dramatically put an arm over his eyes.

“It's like he ripped my heart out, stomped it on the ground, and did a Mexican hat dance around it.”

Elliott laughed.

“Come on, what happened? Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked, taking a seat on the stage floor.

Kurt sat up.

“Not really,” he said sadly.

“But, you're going to anyways,” Elliott said.

Kurt started tearing up again.

“I told him that I loved him, and he said he didn't love me. And then, I asked him if he would ever consider getting our marriage annulled. You know, if it were legal and stuff.”

“What'd he say?”

“He didn't.”

“Ooh,” Elliott said, sucking in a breath. “That's harsh.”

Kurt can't even speak through the tears that are falling down his face, but he nods his head in agreement.

“So what are you gonna do now? To get him back?”

Kurt shakes his head.

“Nothing. There's nothing I can do. I'm gonna be stuck in a marriage forever where my husband and I tolerate each other. Or no, actually, one where I love him, and he “likes” me back.”

Elliott puts an arm around Kurt's shoulders.

“Come on, how about some coffee before rehearsal starts. Will that make you feel better?”

“It's a start,” Kurt sniffles.

Later, when Kurt is in his dressing room changing, Elliott sneaks in and steals his jacket. He runs outside with it and grabs Kurt's phone. It has a lock, but thankfully Elliott has looked over Kurt's shoulder enough times to know what it is. He makes a phone call.

“Hello?”

“Hello! Hi, Blaine?” Elliott asks.

“Uh, yeah, this is him. Who's calling?”

“This is Elliott. I'm one of Kurt's friends and co-stars, you know, from the show.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

“Hey, where are you right now?”

“Um, why?” Blaine asks. He's not sure how much information about his personal life he should give this Elliot guy. He's never heard Kurt mention him before.

“Look, I don't know everything that's happening between you two, but I think you should come tonight. I think you should see your husband perform.”

“I...I don't really know if he'd want me there.”

“Of course he does! He's had a seat reserved for you every night!”

“He has?”

“Yes, dude. Now, stop being such an idiot and come support your husband. He's kind of a wreck without you.”

Blaine sighs, not knowing what to say.

“I just…”

“Do you really not love him?” Elliott asks. “I know that I might be overstepping here, but I find it hard to believe that you don't love him at least a little.”

Blaine can barely form a word in shock.

“I…”

“You know what, forget I asked. But dude, you gotta come tonight. Show starts at 7:00. When you get to the counter, just tell the guy your name, and say you're here for Kurt Anderson-Hummel.”

“Okay, I guess I can… wait,” Blaine says, realization hitting him fully. “Did you just say Kurt Anderson-Hummel?”

“Yeah dude, that's your last name, right? Anderson? I personally wouldn't have hyphenated, but I think it's cute that you two did.”

Blaine's fairly certain he's in shock.

“Oh my gosh. Okay, yes, I'm coming, I'll be right there.”

Elliott chuckled.

“I mean, you don't have to come right now, the show doesn't actually start for another three hours. But, you can come, like, an hour early. And I would bring flowers. Or chocolates. Or both. Anyways, bye! See you then. Oh! And also, try not to mention this to Kurt. He doesn't know that I stole his phone, and he told me to stop prying into his private life when I started grilling him on his sex life.”

“O-okay…” Blaine trailed off, not really knowing how exactly to respond.

“Great! See you then!” Elliott hung up the phone. Yeah, Kurt wasn't gonna be happy when he found out what he did. But, what the hell, hopefully the new Kurt could appreciate good intentions.

A few hours later, Blaine was in his seat at the theater. The show had just finished, and he was ecstatic to the point of crying. Kurt had been amazing. Blaine had never been more impressed with Kurt. He sang perfectly, so full of emotion and vigor. As soon as the curtain closed for the final time, Blaine got up and ran backstage. Elliott had promised him that he could see Kurt after the show. He had brought flowers and chocolates, as per Elliott's suggestion, but he doubted that they would help much. When he got to Kurt's dressing room, he knocked on the door, a quiet tap at first.

There was no answer.

He waited a few seconds, then knocked a little louder.

“Kurt?”

After knocking a few more times and waiting, he finally tried the doorknob. It opened, and he looked inside the small room. It was empty. He looked around for a sign that Kurt had at least been there.

“Are you looking for Kurt?” Elliott popped his head in the doorway.

“Yeah, where did he go?” Blaine asked.

“He ran out of here pretty quickly after the show ended. I think he said he was gonna go home.”

“Okay, thank you so much Elliott. And by the way, great job tonight!” Blaine shouted as he was running out the door.

“Good luck!” Elliott shouted after him.

Blaine broke out into a run. He took the route he knew that Kurt would walk to the subway each day. The streets were practically empty, but it didn't help that it was raining. He ran as fast as he could, shouting Kurt's name. This went on for about ten minutes, until he smacked into someone and fell on the ground.

“Oof!”

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!” Blaine exclaimed, reaching out to help the stranger up.

“Kurt!” Blaine exclaimed when he saw who the man was. His husband was drenched in water. Obviously he had been walking in the rain for some time, and apparently Blaine had pushed him into a puddle. But on top of that, he looked miserable. Kurt stood up and looked at Blaine in the eyes, but didn't say a word. Blaine stuttered all over his.

“Kurt, w-wait. I-I came to your show! I-it was amazing. You were amazing. I-I… can't believe that I…” Blaine suddenly wrapped his arms around Kurt in a warm hug. Kurt, however, immediately stiffened and backed away.

“I'm gonna go home. I'm tired, and I need sleep,” Kurt said, about to turn around.

“Kurt! Please, hear me out.” Kurt stopped and adjusted his duffel bag strap on his shoulder. He wiped the rain out of his eyes, and then crossed his arms as he looked at Blaine.

“I'm so sorry. I should never have lied to you. And I'm extremely sorry for what I said earlier. The truth is, I do love you. I was being stupid before, and I wasn't thinking. You mean more to me than anything else. Especially this stupid Match law. In fact, I'm glad that it exists, because it brought us together. I promise, I'll never go to another damn meeting again, just please, don't be angry with me anymore. I don't think I can take it anymore. I honestly have never been happier than when I was with you.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow.

“You can't take this anymore? Blaine, how am I supposed to believe anything you say anymore? I can't trust you.”

“Kurt,” Blaine said, voice breaking. “Please, just give me another chance. I swear I won't lie again. I love you, please…”

Kurt holds up a hand.

“Stop begging,” he says. The icy tone from when they were in high school is back. “I can't stand it when people beg. Let's just go home. It's raining and I don't wanna get sick.”

“You're coming back home?” Blaine inquired.

“Well, I can't stay at Rachel's forever. I got these looks from Jesse every time I opened their refrigerator looking for more ice cream. He's so judgy. I burn it all off in rehearsals anyways.”

Blaine smiles a little.

“This doesn't mean that everything's good between us all of a sudden. No, quite the contrary. I'm still mad at you.” Kurt stomped off. Blaine followed behind, but made sure to stay a few steps behind him. When they got home, Kurt walked towards his room.

“You'll be sleeping in your own room tonight,” he said. Then he slammed the door.

“Of course,” Blaine said, even though no one could hear him. How had he screwed this up so badly? He went from being the one who was chasing Kurt, to actually having Kurt say that he loved him. And then he messed that up, and now had to find some way to show Kurt he actually was sorry. Blaine went to bed that night, a little restless, scheming of all the things he could do to win his husband over (again).

Blaine was baking muffins the next morning. He knew it wouldn't fix everything, but it was a start, right? And if he what Sam said was true, about having to do seven nice things for every bad thing to fix a relationship, than Blaine figured he might as well get started.

Kurt came stumbling out of his bedroom an hour later. He took a curious look at what Blaine was doing, which currently was cutting up fruit for a fruit salad. Blaine turned his gaze to him and gave him a shy smile.

“Wait,” Blaine said. “Are you limping?”

“Yeah,” Kurt replied as he neared the island slowly. “Last night after the show some crazy psycho bowled me over.”

Blaine freezes as he realizes what Kurt is talking about.

“Oh my gosh, Kurt! I am so sorry! Why didn't you tell me I hurt you? Here, let me get you an ice pack,” he says, as he heads to the freezer.

Kurt clears his throat quietly as he mumbles, “it's fine.”

“No! It's not fine,” Blaine replies. He approached Kurt slowly with a pack of frozen peas. “Sorry, we didn't have an ice pack. This is the best I can do. Do you wanna sit down?”

“Uhh…” Kurt turned and glared at the couch. “It's kinda far away. I don't think I've quite built up the stamina to walk again. I'll just lean against the counter,” he said.

“No, you have to rest it. Otherwise you won't be ready to perform again tonight. Here, let me help.” He bends over and goes to pick Kurt up.

“Blaine!” he protests, as his husband carries him to the couch. Blaine gingerly sets him down, then puts the pack of frozen peas on his ankle.

“Is that better?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Kurt says, trying to sound nonchalant. He was still upset at Blaine, but he'd be lying if he said that Blaine's doting didn't leave him a little breathless.

“Here, I'll bring you a muffin and some fruit. It was my grandmother's recipe,” he says as he walks towards the kitchen. He comes back with a cranberry orange muffin and a small bowl of fruit on a plate. He hands the plate to Kurt and sits across from him, on the edge of the coffee table.

“I'm really sorry that I tripped you. I didn't mean to,” Blaine says. Kurt briefly looks up at him from his plate, then breaks eye contact immediately.

“I know,” he replies, looking out the window. It's  a beautiful New York morning. The loft lets in a lot of light, with it's tall windows that nearly take up an entire wall. It's 10 am, and the sun illuminates his husband's face and eyes that he can't stop looking at, even if those eyes won't look at him in return.

“Kurt,” Blaine says, breathing in deeply. “I'm really sorry. I… I don't know what else to say. I don't know what I was thinking when I said I didn't love you. I do, honestly. You have to believe me.”

Kurt leans forward a little. His voice wasn't angry, or exasperated, like Blaine expected it to be. It was just sad, and a little tired, like a voice recovering from heartbreak.

“Blaine, I don't know how to believe you anymore. I feel like from now on, I'm always going to be second guessing everything you say.”

“No,” Blaine shakes his head. “I don't want that for us. That wasn't my intention.”

“I know,” Kurt says. “And I understand that getting rid of this match law is really important to you. I want it gone too. But, I don't know, part of me feels like you were right when you said that we haven't been together very long to be in love.”

“I was being foolish, I-”

“No, you weren't. You were being honest. And I wanna be honest with you. Right now, there is nothing that I want more than to fall back into your arms and forget that this whole thing ever happened. But I can't do that. I don't even think that would be healthy for my sanity. Blaine, maybe we should take a break.”

Blaine's eyes open wide as he laughs in disbelief.

“Kurt, we're married. It's not like we're dating, we can't just take a break.”

“No, I know, what I mean is that, maybe we should just go back to being friends for a little while? And then I can learn to trust you that way! I mean, I don't think that I can do it any other way, Blaine…”

“No, it's fine,” Blaine says, voice breaking ever so slightly. He wipes away a small tear from his face. “Let's um, let's do things your way. I want to.” He stands up from where he's sitting on the coffee table and heads to the kitchen.

“I'm just gonna be over here, for when you need me,” or if you ever want me again. “Just call my name and I'll be there.”