Ten Weeks, by Aurawn
Disclaimer: All characters you recognize are the brain-products of Amy Sherman-Palladino, and the WB (soon to be the CW.)
It's so quiet.
She looks around the room. It's familiar, but something just seems different. But no. It's all there, all in it's place. The furniture is all in its spot, the pictures still hang on the walls, the flowers still in full bloom on the coffee table.
She's the one that's different.
How could she have done it? What had she been thinking? She slumps down on the her couch - their couch - and lets the tears fall from her eyes. The tears pour out as she looks around the house. It had been her house, her 'Crap Shack', but then he had come along, and made it their house. Their beautiful, remodeled house, ready and waiting for the family that they were supposed to be.
How could she have screwed it up so bad? Of course, it wasn't just her, she tries to console herself. He had said he was all-in, but he wasn't. He had been, once, she knew. She had been all-in, too.
But that was before. Before April. Before June 3. Before Chris.
Chris.
God, she feels so stupid. She was so stupid. Sleeping with Chris was the biggest mistake she had ever made. Hadn't she learned anything from Friends? You don't just run out and sleep with someone after breaking up! God, it's just like Ross and Rachel all over again. But this time, there's no happy ending. She can't think how she could possibly make it better.
She sobs. Her whole life just feels so empty. She was alone. She's been trying to resign herself to it, but it just hurts too much. She's going to die alone. How could he consider going back to her, after what she'd done? She had cheated on him. Sure, they had broken the engagement, but she knew... he knew.. that it hadn't been over yet. And then she went and screwed it up completely.
It had taken her so long to open up to a guy. Sure, she had a kid with Chris. She was going to marry Max. She had liked Jason. But she never - never - had let anyone in like she had let Luke. She was all in. She had never felt safer, never felt better than she had when she was with Luke.
Luke. His very name makes her heart ache.
She loves him so much that it hurts. But she knows how terrible she had been. He was having a hard time - it's hard to find out you're a father, especially that way... and she had tried to support him. Really, tried. But he just got more and more distant as time went on. He rarely, if ever, spent the night. She would go into the diner every morning, and he'd look at her with an almost sad look... it was as if their passion was completely gone.
And boy, had it gone. They had only had sex one time since Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day - that had been so long ago! Back when things still looked hopeful, when Luke had told her that he loved her, really loved her, and wanted to marry her.
She wanted to marry him, too. What a way to show him! God, she's so dumb. Normal women just talk. But no, she has to go and sleep with Christopher. God, Christopher...
What had they been thinking?
She sobs, and grabs the throw blanket off of the back of the couch. She wraps it around her, trying so hard to get rid of that emptiness inside of her.
It's no use. This cold is here to stay. Luke was the warmth, and he was gone...
Shakily, she gets to her feet. She walks carefully to the bathroom, practically on tip-toe. She stops to look in the mirror above the sink, and sees her pale, skinny face before her. God, she's a mess. Her mascara, which had been carefully applied days ago, had streamed down her face as she had sobbed, leaving inky tear streaks down her cheeks. She pushes loose strands of her dark hair from her face, roughly jamming her hair into a ponytail. Looking back into her reflection, she tries hard to steel herself. Her eyes, which had lost their sparkle weeks ago, brim with fresh tears.
She picks it up.
Pink. Pink. Pink, pink, pink, pink.
No... she whispers, falling to the floor of the bathroom in another puddle of sobs. No...
She cries herself to sleep, right there on the bathroom floor. When she wakes up, hours later, she cannot remember where she is.
And then it comes crashing back to her.
She's pregnant. And she's alone. Again.
There's this unspeakable weight in her chest, and she's finding it hard to breathe. Not again, not again... the mantra plays in her head, and she's rocking back and forth in a ball, curled up into the fetal position, just like the child that grows inside of her.
But a glimmer of hope sparks up inside of her, and she wonders... What if it's his?
