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"So are you going to call him?" Kurt asks as they move through the morning rush at the Lima Bean, scooping up a miraculously empty table. "You know he'd love to hear from you."
Blaine fiddles with the lid to his coffee, as if fascinated by the way it attaches to the paper cup. "I'm not so sure."
"What do you mean? You and Elliott actually have a lot in common. And now you can jam together again." Kurt expects Blaine to laugh at his reference, but it doesn’t happen.
Blaine looks up at Kurt briefly, then back down at his cup. "He didn't tell you, did he?"
Kurt doesn't miss the flash of pain that skates over Blaine's face, and he's instantly aware that this is going to be a somewhat different conversation than he had expected. "Didn't tell me what?"
Blaine blinks hard, and when he raises his eyes to Kurt, they are wide and sad. Kurt reaches out and gently wraps his fingers around Blaine's wrist. "Hey. Whatever it is, it’s okay." Kurt’s mind races with possible scenarios of why Blaine wouldn’t want to meet up with Elliott at NYU – was Elliot cruel to him? Is Blaine still jealous of Elliott, despite the fact that Kurt has hardly spoken with him in months? Did Blaine and Elliott have a drunken fling and promise never to tell a soul?
But Blaine’s expression doesn’t reflect embarrassment, it screams sadness and despair. It’s about the break-up, then. He and Blaine have had a lot of difficult but necessary conversations over the past few weeks, and Kurt thinks they are both doing well at being safe places for the other, listening and not judging. But some moments are still hard. It’s the price for being back together, being married. It's a toll Kurt is gladly willing to pay, however, for being able to walk this road with the love of his life. It’s well worth it, and Kurt thinks they’re getting better at it. Whatever went on with Elliott, it’s not going to change Kurt’s love for Blaine.
By the look on Blaine’s face, whatever is bothering him is probably something that needs to be said before Blaine runs into Elliott in the hallway or, god forbid, an audition. Kurt hadn’t considered that Elliott being at NYU might actually be a negative. The program at Tisch isn't that big; they are sure to come into contact with one another.
Kurt waits patiently, stretching his leg under the table to press a foot against Blaine’s ankle. Finally Blaine takes a deep breath and explains. "A week or so after you broke up with me, I went to Elliott's place. I hadn't slept in days, probably hadn't showered either. I was an emotional mess, just completely falling apart." Blaine scrubs at his face, wiping away a tear that has slipped down his cheek.
It physically hurts Kurt to think about Blaine feeling like that, and he can't help but squeeze his hand tighter. "Baby, I'm so sorry."
Blaine just gives a flicker of a smile and goes on. "Elliott was nice about it, really nice. He listened to me cry for hours, held me, rubbed my back, let me pass out on his couch. And the next morning he threw me into the shower, gave me some clean clothes to wear, and took me out for breakfast.”
“That sounds like Elliott.”
Blaine nods. “We talked for a while about music, and what Elliott was doing with his new band. Then he asked me where I was going."
"What?"
"I know, that was sort of my reaction, too. But I guess I kept saying I was lost without you, you were my anchor, that sort of thing, and so he wanted to know what I was going to do without you. What I wanted to do. And I realized I had no idea."
Kurt moves the coffee cup out of Blaine's grip before he can completely crush it, and takes both of Blaine's hands in his, trying not to be distracted by the feel of the ring on Blaine's finger, binding them both together. "Then what happened?"
Blaine shrugs. "Nothing, at least not right away. I kept up the pretense of going to classes for a while, even though I couldn't concentrate and slept through half the lectures, and, well, you know what happened at the end of the semester. But at some point I decided that Elliott might be right, that until I figured out where I was going, or at least where I wanted to go, nothing was going to get better." Blaine bites his lip, stops himself without thinking, and looks up at Kurt. "So I came home to try to figure it out."
Kurt rubs over Blaine's knuckles with his thumbs, wishing they were back in their little apartment instead of in Lima's busiest coffee shop. Although it beats the time a few days ago when Kurt burst into tears in the grocery store at Blaine’s confession that he had never really liked frosted mini-wheats, he just ate them for years because they were Kurt's favorite cereal.
They sit there in silence for a few minutes, and Kurt wonders about the connection between what Blaine just told him and why he doesn't seem comfortable with calling Elliott to tell him he's coming to NYU.
"You know, I like Elliott a lot," Kurt says, choosing his words carefully, "and I think he’s a smart guy, but I don't completely agree with him."
Blaine tilts his head, a guardedly hopeful look in his eyes. "Oh?"
"Well, I don't know where I'm going. I know what's important to me, and who's important to me, but I don't know where I'll end up."
Blaine's eyes light up. "Exactly. And maybe I'm crazy, but..." Blaine shifts closer to Kurt, fixing his steady gaze directly on him, "sometimes I really don't care where I end up, as long as I can be proud of what I'm doing along the way, and I can go there with you."
Kurt grins and stands up, pulling Blaine along with him. "And that is why we were meant to be together, husband of mine." He laughs wryly, tucking his arm in Blaine's as they leave the shop. "It's poetic justice, really."
"What is?" Blaine asks, stopping to press a quick kiss to Kurt's lips before opening the car door for him, ever the gentleman.
"Despite all of our griping at Mr. Schue over the years, he actually knew what he was talking about. It turns out it really is all about the Journey."