Learning How to Forgive: Chapter One
"Daddy, can we stop to get ice cream," Keenan Anderson-Hummel asks.
"Maybe on the way home buddy," Kurt Hummel says.
His unfocused gaze never leaving the window of the car. He eyes scans the houses lining the Lima suburb street, the same houses he once used to drive past when he lived in Lima.
"Maybe grandpa and grandma will have some ice cream," Blaine Anderson says.
Kurt can feel his husband's gaze occasionally shift from the road to him. Kurt fights the urge to turn to Blaine and tell him to quit staring (in a much more aggressive manner, of course,) but they've managed to keep Keenan in the dark. For a five year-old, he is pretty perceptive and they both agreed that their issues shouldn't intrude on their child's innocence.
Five Weeks Ago
Deep down, he has known that Blaine has been screwing someone else for at least a month. The signs have been there: missed dinners, business trips that have to be extended last minute, and the showers whenever Blaine comes home from the office are pretty strong signs, enough to make anyone suspicious.
At first, Kurt tried to ignore them. Their life wasn't perfect, but it was pretty damn close. Blaine was a lawyer at a mid-sized firm and Kurt taught music at the local school in the city they lived in. They had a beautiful home, thanks to Kurt's decorating skills, filled with love and the laughter of the five year-old they had gone through hell to have. They had been together twelve years, married for eight. Because of this, Kurt ignored the signs, choosing to be numb.
Kurt, however, couldn't ignore the pictures of a half-naked blonde twenty year-old man on his husband's laptop. Suspect, yes, and there may have been a logical answer for the picture…but the dozens of pictures of said blonde wrapped around Blaine kind was a no-brainer. He hadn't gone looking for the pictures, or evidence for that matter. A dead battery and the need for a recipe had been the catalyst for the discovery.
He had called his best friend Mercedes first.
"He is cheating on me," Kurt had said, the words alien on his lips.
Mercedes didn't scream, didn't question how he knew, she didn't even threaten to whoop the white boy's ass. She merely asked how he was holding up. Kurt had kept quiet for a minute before responding.
"A little hungry to be honest," he said.
"Then get your scrawny ass some food," she said, not missing a beat.
Kurt smiled, thankful for his friend's quiet understanding that he had had to say it aloud, if only once.
Just like when things got too stressful in college, Kurt resorted to stress eating. A constant hunger had taken hold. No matter how much he ate, he couldn't fulfill his hunger, or crack the ice that engulfed him.
Blaine's constant stares had finally gotten to him, and he turned his empty glare at his husband.
Blaine had been more emotional than he had been when the proverbial crap hit the fan. Almost instantly Blaine had started crying, his tears falling, evoking nothing from Kurt.
Four Weeks Ago
Blaine sat teary-eyed, clear streaks painting his face, across from Kurt. Kurt remained stone-faced, emotionless, a sense of numbness radiating from him.
"It meant nothing, I swear," Blaine choked out, the realization that he might lose Kurt, and Keenan, invading his mind.
Kurt didn't respond. He didn't know how to respond. He hadn't meant to confront Blaine, despite the fact that all he could think about for the last week was the infidelity. They had been at the table, deciding on dinner, Keenan out of the house at a friends, when the words just slipped from his mouth: 'I know you're banging someone.'
"Good to know," Kurt said, staring vacantly at Blaine.
Blaine choked out a sob, not used to seeing his husband so cold. Blaine had tried to deny at first, shocked at the blatant accusation his husband hurled, but his tears (which had come rather quickly) soon gave away the truth.
"It will never happen again," Blaine swore.
"No shit Sherlock. For a lawyer, you would think you would be doing a better job this," Kurt said, looking bored. "How long?"
Blaine stumbled for a minute, swallowing the and insult and trying to get the words out through his tears. He mumbled an answer, which Kurt couldn't hear.
"Speak up," Kurt said, the same emotionless tone coating his words.
"I said three months," Blaine said, his eyes falling to the carpet.
Kurt kept his tone even, cold. He asked question after question, wanting answers but never delving too deep.
"Where did you meet him?"
"At the office."
"Kurt…" Blaine trailed off.
" Don't ask me if I am sure if I want to know the details. I asked how often."
"Once or twice a week." Blaine tried to add more to his answer, but Kurt held his hand up.
"Did you ever meet in this house?"
Blaine looked truly sick at the question.
"God Kurt, I would never. It was meaningless."
"Like our vows," Kurt said, his eyes finally meeting Blaine's.
Blaine trembled and whimpered. He asked where could they go from there.
"I'm thinking a Chinese place, I'm in the mood for sweet and sour chicken," Kurt said, grabbing his coat and walking out the door, leaving his husband's dumbfounded emotional face behind.
This has turned into the longest car ride of his life. Forty minutes from Toledo, the city where they have lived for the last eight years, used to seem miniscule when it came to visiting the Hummels, but the forty minutes seem like an eternity now. He loves being with his son, and he is excited to see his father, but he feels like being this close to Blaine is a lie. Like pretending that everything is okay is somehow condoning what the raven-hair lawyer did.
Finn will be at the house, with Rachel. Kurt knew they were going to be there, it was Finn who had asked if they were going to make it for Carol's birthday (he really had asked if Kurt and Keenan were coming,) but seeing them for the first time since they found will be awkward.
Blaine would make comments here and there, trying to strike up a conversation, but Kurt's silence shut him down every time.
One Week Ago
"We're going to Lima for Carol's birthday," Kurt said, not looking up from his magazine.
Blaine looked up from where he was seated on the floor, playing with Keenan.
"Sounds like fun," Blaine offered, praying for an ounce of emotion, which he yet to see since the confrontation.
Blaine had taken a leave of absence from work and spent his time at home, trying to reconnect with his family. Even though he was stationed in the guest bedroom (a few minutes after Kurt returned from dinner, he had explicitly explained that was Blaine's new residence,) Blaine was thankful to still be at home. He had become the doting husband he had once been, buying gifts, cleaning, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kurt's smile.
Kurt wanted to slap him. Sitting there, five feet from him, he wanted to sucker punch him. They had agreed to counseling, even been to one appointment, but the deep-bone chill had yet to leave.
He had called Rachel, knowing that telling her was just like telling Finn. She had a stronger response than Mercedes, which was an understatement considering she had driven from Lima, six months pregnant to boot, to slap Blaine.
Finn had called, threatening to kill Blaine and calling him every name under the sun(maybe it was a little cruel to put it on speaker knowing Blaine was in the other room).
"What do you want to get her," Blaine asked, flinching when Kurt didn't bother to look at him.
"I already got it," Kurt muttered, watching as Keenan, now bored with whatever he and Blaine had been doing, ran from the room.
"When are you going to talk to me again, like we used to," Blaine asked after a moment of staring at Kurt.
"When can you undo what you've done," Kurt said as he left the room.
"We leave at noon on Saturday, be ready," he called over shoulder.
They pulled up to the Hummel-Hudson house. Finn, Rachel and Burt were standing in front of the house, the two former people having arrived moments before Kurt and his family (could they even be called that anymore?). Finn made his way to towards the car, his gaze alternating between Kurt on the passenger side and Blaine in the driver's seat.
Kurt opened his door and smiled at his brother before turning to let his little hellion out of the backseat.
Keenan jumped from his dad's arms and ran passed his Uncle Finn and straight to his grandfather. Wrapping his little arms around Burt, he immediately latched on. Burt picked his grandson up and headed towards Kurt.
"How you been son," Burt asks, his smile genuine, naïve to the tension between the four people in front of the house.
Blaine looks at him, his face becoming pained. Rachel offers a soft look, sympathy shining in her eyes. Finn glares at Blaine, his fists clenching.
Meeting his dad's eyes, he lies through is teeth, knowing today is about his step mom and not his cheating husband.
"Perfect, never better," Kurt says, the ice in him thickening just a little bit more.
AN: An idea that hit me and I just couldn't let it get away from me. I will be continuing all of my stories and will be developing this into maybe five or six chapters.
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