A/N: Something new from me to you.
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He refused to let it get to him; that this girl had changed his life. He refused to believe that he hadn't based his success on himself. He refused to continue drinking coffee, even though he had grown used to it. He refused to admit that she was gone. He refused to let it get to him; that this girl wouldn't leave his heart, no matter how hard he tried.
He refused, at first, to come to the wedding. He refused to believe that (he knew) it was because of her. Reality flooded through him though, when he remembered what Luke had done for him. He refused to admit that he was going for any other cause than to see his uncle get hitched.
"Nephew," Luke said when he saw him.
"I am not going to do any of that usher bullshit."
"A 'hey, how's it going?' would've done just fine."
"Hey, how's it going?" he drawled sarcastically.
"I'm glad you came."
"Huh," he said, but his smirk gave him away. He did a sort of manly, hug-handshake thing, and he refused to let himself look over Luke's shoulder for someone else.
He sat through the ceremony with little observance to the rest of the town; he had purposely worn his hair differently and looked down so that it was unlikely that he would be recognized. He refused to let his eyes drift from anywhere but the bride and groom—and even then he wasn't focused much.
During the party afterwards, he sat solemnly in a corner table, trying not to attract attention. He was surprised to see Lorelai come up to him, looking five years younger and glowing with happiness.
"Jess," she said curtly, but her eyes softened when she met his gaze.
"Best wishes," he replied.
"Thank you."
"Your welcome."
There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, and Lorelai looked like she wanted to say something. Finally, she leaned in, and Jess found himself staring at her twinkling blue eyes. He felt a flash of Déjà vu.
"I want you to know," she said, her voice so quiet that he could barely hear it below her breathing. "That she never meant to hurt you. She always loved you, Jess. And I think that you were the best thing that ever happened to her."
He let his head drop, not bothering to give her an answer. He refused to admit that he almost wished that she were right.
When she left, and he had given Luke his gift, he walked unnoticeably out onto the bridge that he had once been pushed off of; that he had once had a picnic on; that he had once smoked seven packs of cigarettes on in under three hours; where he had once fallen in love.
He knew that she would come eventually, but he refused to believe that he had hoped for it. He refused to look up when he felt her sit down beside him, and he refused to answer when she said his name.
"Jess."
Her voice was soft but cracked at the end, and he finally looked up at the sound.
He refused to let his face hold any emotion, and he refused to let his heart speak out. They just sat there, looking at how time had changed circumstances and appearances and how some loose ends aren't really meant to be tied.
"You're engaged," he said. It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
"Congratulations."
"Thanks."
The silence echoed around them, and he could hear some love song playing in the distance. They didn't talk, and they didn't look at each other, but when her hand reached for his, he took it.
"I'm going to miss you," she said. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she tentatively rested her head on his shoulder.
He refused to answer her, but he didn't push her away or let go. He refused to become the clichéd ex-love, the one that dropped everything for the girl when she decided she was ready. But he refused to be the one to give up hope. In the meantime, they would say goodbye, because there was nothing left for him to do but wait.
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End
