“Is anything wrong? Are those not the flowers we ordered? Is my wedding going to be a disaster?”

Kurt snapped out of his daze when he heard the bride's frantic and terrified voice, and he realized he had been glaring at a perfectly lovely bouquet of peonies.

“Oh! No, no, relax, Sara! Everything's perfect. Nothing's wrong. Go finish putting your make up on and I'll be right there to help you with whatever you need!” He exclaimed, trying to sound optimistic and energetic.

What Kurt Hummel really wanted, as he stood there with his clipboard and knowing he still had a very long day ahead of himself, was to go home, crack open a bottle of wine and put on his pajamas.

If anyone asked, Kurt would vehemently deny that what he wanted was a pity party, but oh, even the proudest, most dignified man needed one every now and then. No one needed to know.

He hadn't seen Blaine since he had walked out of his apartment the day before. Blaine had texted him only once last night, to say he was sorry and to wish him a good night, but had been very silent since then. Kurt hadn't replied, and wasn't sure why he wouldn't just text or call Blaine and tell him that everything was fine, but he thought the best was to go their separate ways. Wasn't that the right thing to do? Kurt was a grown man, after all. There was nothing to be ashamed of – it wouldn't be the first or the last relationship he put an end to. He and Blaine hadn't even been that serious, right?

Then why had Blaine seemed to think they were?

Everything had turned too confusing and complicated in a very short time, and Kurt wasn't sure he had time for confusing and complicated at the moment.

He shook his head and forced himself to focus. He was working, and nothing ever got between Kurt Hummel and a wedding. He was going to make this a perfect day for Sara and Logan, and that was that. He would take care of his own disastrous love life later.

He forced himself to push Blaine far away from his mind, and didn't stop to think why if Blaine didn't mean to him as much as he seemed to mean to Blaine, Kurt still couldn't stop thinking about him…

*

By the time Kurt got out of the taxi in front of his building that night, he was tired, jaded, and ready to not talk to anyone or see anyone until he absolutely had to. He was closer and closer to his pajamas and his bottle of wine, and maybe he could find some incredibly stupid reality show on TV that would take his mind off everything else.

It kinda sounded like paradise.

He wasn't expecting to get out of the elevator at his floor and find Blaine sitting on the hallway floor, with his back against Kurt's door, and playing with his phone. There was a bouquet of roses next to him and a box from Kurt's favorite bakery. Kurt didn't need to open it to know there was a cheesecake inside.

Blaine looked up when he heard the elevator, and immediately shoved his phone into his pocket and hurried to stand up, gathering his peace offerings and watching Kurt with wide, worried hazel eyes.

Kurt wished he wasn't so damn attractive.

“Hi,” Blaine said quietly, almost shyly. He cleared his throat.

Kurt took a deep breath and looked for his keys in his bag, walking straight to his door. “What are you doing here, Blaine?”

Blaine blinked, as if he hadn't expected Kurt to act like that. “I… I was hoping we could talk? I'm really sorry about what happened at my apartment. I wish I could turn back time, but…”

Kurt got the door opened and hesitated. He really didn't want to invite Blaine in – not after such a long day, not when he was so exhausted and didn't know if he could keep his defenses up. “Look, I…”

“Please,” Blaine interrupted, sounding slightly desperate. “I just want to explain. I don't want things to just end like this, Kurt. It's such an ugly ending to something so beautiful…”

Damn you Blaine Anderson, and your fucking swoon-worthy words.

“Fine,” he agreed, not exactly willingly. He moved aside to let Blaine into the apartment, and walked into the living room, as he dropped his bag and work stuff over one of the chairs. He was in no mood to be organized right now.

Blaine cleared his throat again and extended the flowers and the bakery box to him, looking guilty and uncomfortable. “These are for you.”

Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, before he accepted them. “You really didn't have to.”

“Flowers are our thing, remember?” Blaine said with a soft smile, and Kurt felt his own heart beating wildly in his chest.

Maybe that had been his first mistake – hadn't he encouraged Blaine when he agreed to having a thing with him? He had been so sure that Blaine falling in love with him was such an impossibility that he hadn't worried about thinking what he would do if Blaine wanted to stay, instead of running away like everyone else.

Why was staying always the most impossible thing Kurt could think of?

Why was love always the one impossible thing Kurt couldn't imagine having?

God, why was he thinking about love? He was supposed to be putting an end to this.

“Thank you, Blaine, but I…” Kurt accepted the gifts, and sighed, letting himself drop onto the couch and putting both the flowers and the cake away carefully.

“I'm sorry about punching Cooper,” Blaine said, sitting next to him and obviously wanting to reach out for him. He resisted, though, and Kurt was grateful – he could never think clearly when Blaine touched him. “I mean… it's not like he never deserves it, but… it was wrong. I know that. I… tend to overreact when he's around. I have a zero Cooper-tolerance level. He just… gets on my nerves, I think.”

“I understand that,” Kurt said, doing his best not to get lost into Blaine's pleading gaze. “And I understand that you have a very complicated history with Cooper. It's none of my business, Blaine, really, but I just… I don't think it's what I need to be around right now.”

It was a horrible excuse and he knew it.

Blaine frowned. “Did I…?” He stopped, and moved closer, just an inch or two, but still didn't touch Kurt. “Are you scared that I would ever hit you, Kurt? Because I swear… I would never. I care about you too much. You're the most wonderful thing that I have ever had and I don't ever want to do anything to ruin…”

“I just don't think we're right for each other,” Kurt hurried to say, needing Blaine to stop talking, because every single word felt like too much. “It was fun, Blaine, but…”

Blaine's face was suddenly contorted with hurt. He looked away, needing a second to compose himself before he could speak. “What do you mean? Everything was perfect until Cooper arrived. We have fun. We are great together. Kurt… I thought I made you happy…”

“I'm afraid we're not on the same page. We want different things, I…” Kurt had never thought talking could be such a difficult thing to do, but he had never counted on having to say these things to Blaine. His friends had been right – he was breaking Blaine's heart. Blaine deserved better. “Blaine, I'm sorry…”

Blaine shook his head and a sad smile appeared on his lips. “No, Kurt. I'm the one who's sorry. You're just too nice to tell me I'm too fucked up and I'm making you uncomfortable. You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come…” He stood up abruptly and brushed his hands down his thighs. “For what it's worth… thank you. I had an amazing time with you.”

Kurt bit his lip. His heart was asking him to stop Blaine, and his brain was telling him it was better this way. He didn't know who to listen to. “Blaine…”

“You don't have to walk me out.” Blaine headed to the door. Kurt saw him clench and unclench his fists, and knew Blaine was stressed – he always did that when he was stressed. He turned around and faced Kurt one last time before walking out of the apartment. “I'm really sorry, Kurt.”

Kurt listened to his brain. He simply nodded and let Blaine go. He stared at the bouquet of flowers and the box of cheesecake for a few minutes, numb, after the door had quietly clicked closed.

He told himself he had done the right thing, and ignored the desperate cries of his heart asking him to run after Blaine.

He was letting the best thing that had ever happened to him walk away and his heart knew it – but Kurt had always been a little slow when it came to the truly important things in life and hadn't realized it yet.

After a while, he forced himself to stand up and go find his pajamas. That wine wasn't going to drink itself, after all…

*

The water in the shower could have been ice-cold and Blaine wouldn't have noticed. He just stood under the spray, closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the tiles. He wasn't going to cry. He knew what being heartbroken was like, he should have known Kurt wouldn't look past all his shit and stay. He should have known Kurt would sooner or later see that Blaine would never be enough. His life had been a series of disappointments, why had he believed Kurt would be any different?

Because Blaine needed to believe there was something else, something beyond the pain, worth waiting for. Something worth living for.

His hands curled up in fists and pressed firmly against the damp wall. He kept his eyes closed and focused.

His breath was shaky when he parted his lips and let the words come out: “Not a day goes by, not a single day… but youre somewhere a part of my life.” His voice sounded cracked, choked, as he sang. His fists clenched even tighter and he kept going. “And it looks like youll stay. As the days go by, I keep thinking, ‘when does it end? Where s the day Ill have started forgetting?' But I just go on thinking and sweating, and cursing and crying,” he pushed through it, even though his voice echoed dissonant against the bathroom walls. He didn't notice the tears sliding down his cheeks – they mixed with the shower spray easily. “And turning and reaching, and waking and dying…”

He reached the last note, and his voice reached its limit. Blaine punched the wall in frustration, and tried again, stubbornly. He had to do it. He needed to do it. He couldn't let go of this one thing – he had had to let go of so much, and he couldn't understand why…

Blaine's voice was rough when he tried to sing the same words again. He forced himself to start again, and again, and again, but he only ended up feeling more pain each time. He finally let himself fall down onto the shower floor, with the water pouring over him, as a painful sob ripped through his lips.

When was he going to learn that life was nothing but unfair and disappointing?

*

Rachel opened the door with a bright smile and let Kurt into her apartment.

“Hi, Kurt! So glad you could make it. Come on in, the girls are already here!” She said. Once Kurt was inside and removing his jacket, she peeked into the hallway, frowning. “Where's Blaine? Did I forget to tell you to invite him? I was sure I told you…”

“Yes, you did tell me,” Kurt replied in a monotone, walking further into the apartment, and stopping at Lilah's playpen, where she was entertaining herself with a fabric book. “Hi cutie!” He exclaimed, giving her the first authentic smile he had been capable of in days. She beamed up at him and he reached into the playpen to tickle her belly.

Rachel stood a few steps behind him, watching him with her arms crossed over her chest, visibly concerned. “Kurt? Is everything okay?”

“Of course. Just tired. I had a busy week,” Kurt answered, straightening up and clearing his throat. Rachel arched an eyebrow at him, and waited. She knew him too well. Kurt should have known lying to her would be near to impossible. “Fine. I'm not seeing Blaine anymore. We… broke up, I guess it's the right term.”

Rachel sighed sadly, but she didn't seem surprised at the news. “What happened? He didn't like the baby news?”

“I never even got to tell him,” Kurt said, leaning against the couch and doing his best to sound indifferent. “We had a bit of a disagreement about something else and I just… it was the right time to put an end to this…”

“Wait a second, wait…” A voice behind them said, and Kurt turned to see Santana at the kitchen doorway. “Are you telling me you broke up with him, you fucking brainless asshole?”

“Santana!” Rachel exclaimed, scandalized. “Language! Lilah's right there!”

Santana moved closer, her ten inch heels clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floor, until she was next to the playpen. She crouched and pouted at the little girl. “Aw, I'm sorry, Lilah,” she cooed. “Auntie Tana didn't mean to scare you. But here's one thing you need to know, honey: your uncle Kurt is a goddamn idiot and if he doesn't get his head out of his ass, then Auntie Tana will have to pull it out herself…”

Kurt grabbed her arm and made her stand, impatient. “Can you stop?”

“I cannot believe you sometimes, Hummel,” Santana said, closing her eyes in annoyance. “Why do you insist on being such an imbecile all the time?”

“I did what I had to do…” Kurt said defensively.

Dani appeared, then, frowning, probably wondering what her friends and wife were up to. “What's going on here?”

“Oh nothing, baby. Just the usual – Kurt is doing a wonderful job of ruining his own life,” Santana muttered angrily.

“Oh no, Kurt…” Dani sighed. “What happened?”

By now Kurt felt like a little boy who had been scolded in front of his kindergarten friends. There was a knot forming in his throat and he just wanted this awful week to end. “I broke up with Blaine and I let him believe that it was because he's too fucked up. Is that what you wanted to know?” He practically screamed, feeling caged. His eyes filled with tears that he refused to cry. “Can we eat now? I'm starving, and I was promised dinner, not a fucking interrogation.”

Even Lilah was frozen in her playpen, staring at him. Rachel, Santana and Dani were standing there, gaping at him in disbelief. Kurt looked furious, uncomfortable and infinitely sad – they could see right through him. He wanted Blaine but he was too stubborn and blind to admit it.

“Uhm, sure…” Rachel muttered, awkwardly. “I'll go see if Will is done with the appetizers…”

Kurt turned away from the other two as Rachel went into the kitchen. He walked towards the window and stared at the eternal brightness of New York, but somehow the city looked darker tonight.

*

Never before had Kurt welcomed a trip to Ohio as much as he did then. It seemed to arrive at the perfect time. He knew he could have taken care of the work he needed to do for Tina's wedding from New York easily, but he suddenly had the strong urge to see his father, and this was a very good excuse to take some time off the city.

Burt was waiting for him at the airport and, as usual, smiled brightly upon seeing his son, and pulled him into a good hug. Kurt held onto him tightly, buried his face in the crook of his father's neck, and inhaled the familiar scent of his skin and his laundry detergent. He felt home already.

He must have held on a little longer than normal, because Burt scrutinized his face carefully when they finally pulled away, but didn't say anything about it. “Need help with your bags? You always pack too much, kiddo.”

“I'm fine, Dad, thanks,” he answered with a little smile, as he followed him towards the car.

It wasn't until later that night, once Carole had kissed the top of Burt's head and Kurt's cheek goodnight and disappeared upstairs, when Burt finally decided to make a comment on it. He switched the television off, and turned to glance at Kurt, who was lying on the couch next to him, with a quilt wrapped around him like a cocoon. He looked jaded, older. It had been a very long time since Burt had seen him like that.

“Everything okay, kiddo?”

Kurt sighed, as if he had been expecting the question. “How long have you been waiting to ask that?”

“A couple of weeks, at least,” Burt replied, and shrugged when Kurt arched an eyebrow at him in surprise. “What? You think I don't notice when you aren't okay just because I'm talking to you on the phone instead of face to face? I'm your dad, Kurt. I always notice.”

Kurt grinned, but there wasn't anything happy about it, and the gesture fell from his face soon. “I guess you're right.”

“Is it the baby? Are you worried about what's going to happen when it arrives? Are you having second thoughts?” Burt asked, leaning closer, resting his elbows on his knees.

“No, of course not,” Kurt said immediately. “I mean… of course I'm a bit nervous. But it's not that.”

“Is it work? Or the girls? Has Santana given you any trouble? I swear, I never understood how you two haven't murdered each other yet…” Burt commented, shaking his head.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “No, Dad. That's all fine, all things considering.”

“So, what is it?”

Kurt sat up, tightened the blanket around himself, and stared at the black screen of the television for a moment, as if looking for the right words. “It's… I had sort of a break up a couple of weeks ago.”

“Really? I didn't know you were seeing anyone…” Burt muttered, visibly surprised. Kurt knew he could tell his father anything, and they were very open with each other. It was weird not knowing about something happening in Kurt's life.

“Yeah, well… it wasn't supposed to be serious,” Kurt said, looking down at his own hands and playing with the edge of the blanket. “I mean, things are complicated, with the baby on the way and everything… I just wanted to have fun with someone for a while and… I don't know. It didn't work out.”

“You said it wasn't supposed to be serious. I imagine it got serious anyway?” Burt guessed, getting up to change seats and move to the couch next to his kid.

“I think he thought it was more serious than I wanted it to be. I'm pretty sure I broke his heart in the process and… he's such a great guy, Dad. He didn't deserve it,” Kurt sighed, frustrated. “Why am I so incompetent when it comes to guys? I'm not a kid anymore…”

“You're not incompetent, Kurt,” Burt chuckled, and he would have ran his hand through Kurt's hair to lighten up the mood if he wasn't so scare to get his fingers bitten off because of it. “Love's messy. Hell, you don't even have to be in love for a relationship to be messy. It's hard work, it's complicated, it almost always ends up in disaster…”

“You're not comforting me a lot here, Dad,” Kurt scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I'm getting there,” Burt nudged him with his shoulder playfully. “What I'm trying to say is… you're awfully easy to love, Kurt. I can't blame that guy, whoever he is, for wanting things to be serious between you two. But if you don't feel the same…” He probably saw something in Kurt's face that made him stop, because his eyebrows shot up, almost disappearing under his baseball hat. “Wait, you do feel the same? Then why did you…?”

“I didn't say that,” Kurt said quickly – too quickly. “Blaine was… is… a pretty perfect guy. He's funny, generous, romantic, handsome, and so, so brave… but it's just not the right time for me to have a serious relationship, Dad.”

“Because you're going to be a father? Kurt, having a kid doesn't mean all your other roles get cancelled, too,” Burt frowned as he looked at his son. “You'll be a dad, a wedding planner, a friend, a son, and a man, all at the same time, and so much more than that, too. If you think this guy's worth it… don't let him go just because you have some weird idea about what being a parent is. You're a person, Kurt, not a box. There are so many more sides of you.”

Kurt bit his lip, and stared at a random point on the wall, deep in thought. He finally closed his eyes and rubbed them tiredly. “I know you're probably right. It's just… that doesn't mean Blaine was the one. There are so many other things for me to focus on and I… he'll be okay, I'm sure. He'll forget about me…”

Even saying the words had a bitter taste in his mouth. Blaine didn't forget – he didn't let anything go. He held on to everything – good, bad, and everything in between – for years and years. Hadn't his troubles with his family proven that to Kurt already?

Burt chuckled again, and clasped a hand on his son's shoulder. He stood up, ready to head up to bed. “I don't think you understand just how unforgettable you can be, Kurt.”

Kurt sat there in the dimmed living room in his old house in Ohio for what seemed like hours and hours, thinking. His father always knew how to say the right thing that would keep Kurt up all night, wondering if he hadn't made the biggest mistake of his life.

*

Staying a week with his family gave Kurt enough energy to face the franticness of the city once again. He and Tina had gotten a lot done for the wedding, Carole had fed him like he was a scrawny teenager in need of a good meal, and his father had hugged him enough to last him ‘til Christmas.

It wasn't until he arrived in New York, and walked through the crowded airport, passing by happy couples that met again after being apart, and blissful children running into their parents arms, and groups of friends squealing cheerfully at being together again, that he felt terribly, irrevocably alone.

This time, Blaine wasn't there waiting for him with a bouquet of flowers and an irresistible smile. Kurt simply dragged his suitcase behind him towards the exit, and told himself there was no one to blame for that but himself.

*