Santana honestly wished sometimes that she and Brittany had what Kurt and Blaine had. She could only imagine what would've happened if she'd been the one who was ill. Instead of constant texts checking in on her as Blaine had sent (to both her and Kurt, she might've added), Britt probably would've been sending her constant updates on Lord Tubbington's eating and pooping schedule. Or avoiding texting her altogether because she was afraid she'd catch food poisoning from her through the cell phone signal waves. There were times when dating someone with the intelligence of a kindergartener was enough to make even the bitchiest of the bitchy pull her hair out. And those times had only increased with leaving Lima though the fact was, she still didn't know which was worse: dating Brittany or the guilt of what she'd done behind her back.

She watched him quietly as he tried to drink the tea she'd given him. "You were pitiful," she replied, the cool bitch routine interrupted entirely when the concerned fag hag side showed up. "I seriously was beginning to worry I was going to have to take you back to the hospital. I've never seen a case of food poisoning go on that long. Jesus. Bitch, you best be believing I'm going with you, because this girl right here? Wants her some new Big Apple duds and stat. Yeah, that's pretty rough, not even gonna lie. Seriously? And the bitches lived to tell the tale? You've gone soft, Hummel."

There were a few long moments of silence where Santana tried to decide what to do. Her first thought after the whole fucked up thing had gone down (pun totally not intended) was to talk to Kurt, ask him for advice and what to do. But they had decided it was best for all involved if they just kept it a secret. Would telling Kurt get back to Quinn? And piss her off? But like it or lump it, Kurt wasn't buying her bullshit, so Santana swallowed hard and said, "I cheated on Brittany."