Author's Notes: Okay. So. A little bit of a vague back story for Kurt. Don't worry, there'll be more. Expect the next chapter on Monday, November 18th! All I will say is that chapter five is a big one. I hope you'll all stick around for it! And I'm sorry about the short chapter thing. I suck at a lot of things, I know! Alright, until next time kiddos!
P.S. Lea's L'Oreal commercial just came on as I was writing this. I'm in love with her.
--Sarah
Chapter 4
February 10th
BLAINE
"I'll pick you up at the end of your session. Remember, we're having dinner with your brother tonight."
"Uh-huh. I'll see you in an hour, mom."
She kisses me on the cheek and I get out of the car, walk into Kurt's office.
"How are you today, Blaine?" he asks. I sit down on the couch.
"I'm...okay," I reply, shuffling off my coat and scarf.
"Just okay?" he asks, smirking.
"Yeah. Not good. Not bad. I'm okay."
Kurt nods. "Alright. Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you okay today?"
"Because...I don't know. I'm having dinner with my mom and my siblings."
He smiles at me. "That sounds nice. Are you excited?"
"I guess so," I answer. "It'll be nice to have the whole family together."
Again, Kurt smiles at me. "Blaine...I want you to try something today. Are you open to trying?"
I nod. "I mean...I guess I am."
"Okay. I know that up until now, you haven't felt ready to talk about Andrew. But today...today I want you to tell me something you loved about him. I want you to pick something and...tell me about it in detail. It could be...an anecdote, a physical characteristic, a personality trait. Do you think you can do that for me?"
I gulp, look at my shoes. I'm not ready. I'm so not ready. "I don't...I don't know."
"You need to be ready today, Blaine. Do you know why?"
I shake my head.
"Becuase if you don't start talking about Andrew now, you'll never be ready. You'll suffer like this for the rest of your life. Do you want that for yourself?"
Again, I shake my head.
"I don't want that for you either, Blaine. So. What do you say? Ready?"
"I have to be, don't I?"
Kurt grins at me and then leans forward, puts his elbows on his lap. "So. Tell me one thing you loved about your husband."
I rack my brain for a few seconds. There were so many things I loved about Andrew. I loved everything about Andrew.
"He was smart," I say finally.
Kurt gives me a look that silently urges me to keep going.
"Mind-blowingly smart. I mean...I'm fairly smart. I was in the top 10% in high school. Phi Theta Kappa in college. But...I had to work hard to keep up with Andrew. He was always...reading some really new book or some really old book. At any given time he had two, three books on him or near him. And he...he was always coming up with these amazing ideas for things, for his students."
"His students?"
"He was a high school English teacher. In the Bronx. His students loved him. He did the most incredible things with those kids. Once, he did this collaborative project with them where they wrote an entire three-act play about the neighborhood. And then they actually performed it. And it was really amazing. When I saw it, I couldn't believe it was written by high school students, but then I remembered that they were Andrew's students, so it was perfectly possible."
"It sounds like he loved his job."
I nod. "He did. He loved those kids so much. He used to offer them free tutoring, book clubs, after-school activities just to get them off the streets, and it did. People talk about teachers making a difference in childrens' lives all the time, but he really did. After...after he...he died..."
My voice breaks. I take a minute to gain my composure and when I look up, Kurt is smiling encouragingly at me. "Go on, Blaine. You're doing beautifully."
I blink once, twice, and then keep going. "After he died...I got so many letters from his students. Cards, flowers, gifts, telling me how much they loved him and how much he'd be missed. They shared stories about him. One girl wrote about how she'd come to him in his office one day. She told him she was pregnant and that she wanted to keep the baby, but her boyfriend didn't know and would want her to abort, and that her father would beat her if he found out. Andrew found her a shelter she could stay at, found her a doctor, got the police involved about her father. She said she lives in Brooklyn now with her son, and goes to college at night. She said she wants to become a teacher because of Andrew."
"Tell me something else about him. Something else that you loved."
This time, I don't hesitate. "He was so amazingly kind. He would go out some weekends and buy all this food from Duane Reade and McDonald's and all these pizza places and he would just...hand it out to homeless people he saw on the street. And if he didn't have any food, he always gave them whatever change he had. And uhm...you know how when you get up to the register at a store, the cashier always says 'hi, welcome to wherever, how are you today?' Andrew would always ask them how they were, too. He held doors for people who were halfway across a room. He would wait for half an hour in the rain just to hail a cab, and then when he got one, he would let somebody else have it. He just...all he ever wanted to do was make people's lives better."
Kurt smiles. "He sounds like an amazing person."
"He was," I nod. I can almost feel a smile on my lips. "He really was."
Now," Kurt says, scribbling something on his notepad, "I want to try something else. Are you ready?"
"I...I think so."
"Good. I want you to tell me about your life with Andrew. How you met, your happiest memory, your wedding day, your first kiss."
Again, I gulp, ready myself, and start. "We...met in college. I was a music ed major. He was double majoring in English and education. He was in my keyboard class. I've been playing since I was six, he couldn't even find middle C. He asked me to tutor him. So...we started meeting in practice rooms after class and on weekends. And then...it became...you know, something more. Our first date was this student production that my roommate was in. It was terrible but...I got to be with Andrew. And that was perfect. Afterward, I walked him back to his dorm and...we kissed. It was...magic. That's all I can think of to describe it. Everything in the world just came together at once and I understood everything I ever needed to and...that's when I knew I was going to marry him."
"Keep going, Blaine."
"Okay. Uhm...our happiest memory. I guess...our wedding. It was beautiful. We got married on the beach in the Hamptons. His sister had a country club membership and the reception was there. It was...the most perfect night. I can't ever remember being that happy. My brother, Cooper was my best man. His best friend from high school was his. My sister, Lizzie, she was eight at the time, and his niece were our flower girls. We wrote our own vows. We kissed. We cut the cake. It was amazing. It was perfect."
"Was it a happy marriage?"
I nod. "Yeah. It was great. Our friends would always talk about fighting with their husbands or wives and we would just laugh. We didn't understand it. How could you fight with the love of your life? We were...we were so happy. We were...getting ready to start a family, and then..."
"And then?"
"And then...everything fell apart. And..."
"Blaine. I want you to keep going. How did everything fall apart?"
I shake my head. "I can't...I'm not there yet. I can't...I can't talk about what happened."
Kurt nods and then clicks his pen closed. "I understand that. But for our next session...I want you to be prepared to tell me what happened. Okay?"
"I...I'll try."
Kurt smiles at me. "Good. I'm proud of you today, Blaine."
I nod back at him, half-smile, put on all my winter gear, and then leave.
--
KURT
Feb 11th
"I just...I don't know why I can't stop thinking about him, Rach. I don't know what it is."
I'm having breakfast with Rachel, my best friend. She smiles sympathetically at me as she takes a bite of her vegan omelet. "Maybe...maybe you relate to him?"
I shrug. "Maybe. I don't know. He just...there's so much to him, you know?"
Rachel nods. "Well maybe...maybe you just...want him to get better because...because he has a lot of potential."
"I guess," I sigh, taking a bite of my crepes. It's quiet for a few moments, just the two of us eating our breakfast, drinking our coffee.
"Kurt?" Rachel asks.
"Mhm?" I reply, mouth full of strawberries and whipped cream.
"Do you think that maybe you have fe-"
"Don't say it, Rachel Barbra Berry."
"You might have feel-"
"Rachel."
"Feeli-"
"Don't, Rachel."
"Do you think maybe you might have feelings for him?
I drop my fork loudly on my plate and look at her pointedly. "What the fuck would make you think that?"
"Well...you haven't been with anybody since that son of a bitch Ben, I haven't even heard about anybody since that fucking prick. And now all of a sudden it's this Blaine guy. Blaine, Blaine, Blaine. You're always thinking about him, always talking about him. It's only logical for me to draw the conclusion that-"
"I do not have feelings for him, Rachel. He is a patient."
"Sure. Alright. Fine. Tell yourself that."
"I mean it, Rach. I don't have feelings for a patient. That's...unethical."
"That doesn't make it impossible."
"It's inappropriate."
"That still doesn't make it impossible, Kurt."
I glare at her for a few seconds before she opens her mouth again to speak. "What's wrong with him, anyway?"
I roll my eyes. "Nothing is wrong with him, Rachel. He just has a lot of unresolved issues."
"Like what?"
Again, I roll my eyes. "You know I can't tell you that. I shouldn't have even told you his name. He's just...he's been through a lot. I'll leave it there."
Rachel nods. By the grace of God she accepts my answer. “So...how have you been? I mean…you know. With everything.”
“Everything?” I ask.
“How are you feeling? About yourself?” she continues.
I know what she means. Of course I do. I nod and smile, tight-lipped. “I’m okay. Some days are better than others.”
“And today?”
“Is a better-than-others day.”
We eat the rest of our breakfast and converse about different subjects. The audition she had the other night, her dads, a million things.
Thankfully, the conversation doesn't drift back to Blaine Anderson.