Lorelai'd used defense mechanisms for most of her life, beginning when she was a young girl in her parents' home. She'd used rebellion to get attention in their often cold and distant world. Even negative attention was better than none at all.
And when Rory was born and Lorelai had been just a young thing in the world with a baby on her hip, she'd started using humor. It was a deflection from her age and the "kind of girl" she was. It helped her forget that she was being judged, that she was different from her friends of the same age. At least she could get them to laugh with her, instead of whispering to each other with their fingers pointed and heads nodding so obviously in her direction.
And when she'd come to Stars Hollow on her own with Rory, she'd used her Wonder Woman persona to make it through those tough times alone and with too little money to be able to provide her little girl with many of the material comforts she would have had if she'd just stayed in her parents' house.
But years later, once she'd become friends with Luke and began confiding in him and leaning on him once in a while, and letting him do things for her and her daughter, she'd begun letting her defenses down little by little. She'd catch herself sometimes, and the walls would be built back up. But it was only a matter of time before he'd break them down again with a gentle touch and encouraging words. Once she'd fallen in love with him and him with her, the walls were mostly gone as far as love and Luke were concerned.
So she returns to her old habits when she feels him slipping away, avoiding him, thinking it would hurt less if she was the one to leave him first.
But when he does break her heart, when she finally lets herself see that things had been going wrong for far too long, when she pours her heart out to him so fully, like she'd never done for anyone before, and he just stands there and lets her walk away, there's almost nothing there to block the blow. And she quickly tries to rebuild those walls as she resorts to her defense mechanisms to get herself through.
She has to forget, she has to. She needs to forget him, forget everything he's ever done for her, forget his smile, his face, his laugh, the way he holds her when they make love, everything.
A defense mechanism; she's used to those. Forgetting Luke, maybe if just for a little while, is the only way she can get past this; past the love she has for this man who's just rejected her, past the proven realization that she may never have in her life what she's always wanted- to be married to the love of her life, to have a partner, to not have to go it alone.
And she may not be using her best of judgment in the way she plans to try to forget him, but screw judgment. Screw everything right now. She just needs to forget, if only for a little while. She needs to erase. And what better way to erase something than to replace it? Which is how she ends up in the bed of her daughter's father, someone who was her best friend once in another lifetime, someone who she'd thought she was in love with once when she was a different person. And damned if she couldn't bring all of that back again just for a little while, to try to bandage her wounds, to salve them and numb them for as long as she could.
But the room is dark, and different, and everything smells funny, like aftershave, which is strange and foreign to her because Luke always smells like laundry detergent and shampoo; not all fancy and aftershave-y.
And the way Chris touches her isn't as sure as the way Luke does. And he doesn't seem to know that she doesn't like to be licked behind her ear. And his lips are too soft, his kisses to sloppy when she isn't able to dodge his mouth. Everything he does reminds her of how Luke would have done it differently, and how Chris is not Luke, and how no one else could be Luke.
And she suddenly feels broken, and exposed, and vulnerable, and unwilling. She feels like she's being violated, like she's violating Luke, like she's betraying what they had by being with another man an hour after they couldn't make things work and her future spiraled away.
Christopher's hands feel rough now, like sandpaper. And his lips feel dry, and she's panting from panic rather than pleasure, and she's crying out, or just crying. Or is she even making a sound? She doesn't know because Christopher is still moving, still touching her, still on top of her, still saying her name in a grating voice that isn't Luke's, and she knows soon he'll be inside of her, and this thought suddenly scares her, and she realizes that she can't go through with this now. Her heart belongs to someone else, even though that someone else may not feel the same way.
Her arms are flailing now, punching the man on top of her. She's yelling and pushing, and she can hear his startled yells, feel his hands trying to restrain her and calm her and soothe her, but it only spurns her on, and her legs get involved, and she feels like she's fighting for her life. Her face is hot and wet with tears, her throat sore from yelling, tight from crying.
But she's so weary, and tired of trying to fight, of trying to build those walls back up, of trying to forget, that she physically collapses, lets Christopher restrain her and try to calm her. He wraps her up in his arms, and she sobs until she's spent, and she stills and doesn't say another word. She rolls over, away from him, and lets him continue to try to comfort her, lets him believe that he is. She's too weak to argue anymore, too weak and defeated to think, and soon, she's asleep.
---
She awakes in the morning to the sounds of voices and footsteps of little kids, and for a second before she's fully awake, she thinks she's at Sookie's the day before and that she'd dreamed everything. But then she hears Christopher's voice and notices the unfamiliar bedroom, smells the foreign aftershave, and knows that it had all been real. That she's in the wrong bed, had slept with the wrong guy, and she could barely conjure up a reaction.
When Christopher gets back into bed with her and wraps his arm around her, she realizes that she's almost numb to it all now. Only a few tears spring to her eyes when she thinks of what had happened since last night, of what she's lost. And with that, she knows she's making progress.
