December
Disclaimer: We own nothing; the show Gilmore Girls belongs to the CW and Amy Sherman-Palladino; the song Back to December belongs to Taylor Swift and her peoples you know the drill. We're not making any money or anything :D so yha
Because the last time you saw me
Is still burned in the back of your mind
You gave me roses, and I left them there to die
So this is me swallowing my pride
Standing in front of you, saying I'm sorry for that night
And I go back to December all the time
It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you
Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine
I go back to December, turn around and make it alright
I go back to December all the time
These days, I haven't been sleeping
Staying up, playing back myself leaving
When your birthday passed, and I didn't call.
Back to December – Taylor Swift
Come home.
The words were out of my mouth before my brain had a chance to process the thought. My hear slammed against my chest when my husband froze and turned around.
"Pardon?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper and his face hopeful but quizzical.
My heart stopped for the briefest of moments before once again hammering against my ribcage; surely Richard could hear it. "I said, come home," I repeated. A lump had formed in my throat; what if he didn't want to come home? What if I repulsed him now that I had dated another man?
In a blur of black wool and polyester, my doubts and insecurities were quelled. My husband's arms were around me, for the first time in so long that we had touched. His embrace was the same; scented with cigars and cognac, his arms tight around me, his muscles rippling gently at my touch. My Richard was still the same. Would he think so of me?
"I've missed you," I whispered, tears clouding my eyes and thickening my voice.
I'd fooled no one when I said I was ready to date again. Lorelai had even seen though my excuses; but she still supported my decisions. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be proud of her or angry at her. An unbidden sob escape my lips, sudden and very noticeable, I attempted to bury my head in Richard's chest, but he pulled me back, whipping my face in his warm, soft hands.
"Oh Emmy," he breathed, "Don't cry. Please don't cry."
"I'm so sorry Richard," I was on the verge of hysteria. My carefully constructed walls were crumbling and for once, I wasn't scared and fighting to rebuild them.
"Oh, Emily, you have nothing to be sorry about." He wiped the tears from my eyes with a gentle stroke of his thumb. "I was the one keeping secrets."
My stomach clenched and my hands went cold. No matter how this conversation ended, Pennilyn Lott played a role. Although salted wounds heal faster, they still burned with a passion.
"Please. . ." I muttered, my voice cracking. I didn't want the wedge we'd just removed to slam back in place, or even rip us apart forever. "Can we. . ." I looked down at my feet, unsure how to say what was bouncing though my mind.
"Let the past be the past?" Richard offered. Of course, he was much better with words.
"Please?" I sounded as desperate as I felt; my cheeks flushed and my eyes filled, tears soon spilling over.
Richard pulled me close once more and kissed the top of my head. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Our eyes met, then our lips. Tentitavily at first; we hadn't shared an intimate touch in what felt like eternity. Then oru lips grew ravenous, seeking what they had been denied. The chime of our grandfather clock startled us apart; we laughed.
"Brings back good memories." Richard murmured, stroking his hand down my back. He chuckled, then helped me out of my coat. "Would you like a drink?" he asked, positioning himself so he was centered between the stairs and the drink cart.
Truth be told, I was sore from the accident and just wanted to go to bed. But part of me was. . . frightened to bring Richard to bed. So much had changed since we decided to separate. What if our intimacy took a turn for the worse? Or maybe he would change his mind?
As if my husband could hear the criticisms running though my mind, Richard walked to me and took my hands in his much larger ones.
"Or we could go to bed. . ." His eyes glimmered with more than hope; almost a sheen of desire. I nodded, and together, we returned to our bedroom. The door stayed lock that night; the first time in a long time.
fin
The first bit of fanfiction from both B. Alex Burke and myself oneadmmlife. She rights way more GG fanfics than I do but I thought it was a pretty good attempt :D ;; RandR and you get cookies