Killing Me Softly
Santana goes to watch Brittany perform every night. She doesn't know if her ex wants her there—probably not. But then again, she doesn't know if Brittany even knows she is there. With every twirl and leap, Santana remembers. With every move Brittany makes, she wonders how she fucked up so badly.
"I can't do this anymore, Santana!"
This makes the older girl pause. She's never, ever, heard Brittany yell. "Britt—"
"No. You're going to listen. For once, you're going to listen. I've done everything possible. I've tried to give you as much space as you needed. I tried to be better at things you were interested in. I tried to come up with my own bizarre academic interests—which I now have a ton of, not that you care."
"I do care!"
"You care in the way that someone cares about their dog. I don't doubt that you love me, but I can't stay here and be treated like the poor dumb girl whose innocence you're protecting. I'm done with feeling stupid all of the time. You've never said it, but I can feel it in the way you treat me. It used to be that you were protecting me, looking after me, but now…." The blonde trailed off and continued packing.
"Brittany," Santana said quietly. "You know I—"
"Love me? Yeah, I know. But other things go into a relationship besides love."
Brittany took her final bow and looked up towards the balcony. Night number 36, just like the rest of the shows, Santana was there. Night number 36, just like the rest of the shows, she wondered if she'd made the right choice.