Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters all belong to Amy Sherman Palladino. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.
Emily sighed heavily looking at her image on the mirror. The dress was too large. It was the tenth dress she wore in the last half an hour and all of them had been too big for her now. She looked one more time at the pale, thin woman on the mirror and then walked towards the bed desolate. She wanted to be beautiful, or at least presentable, for the evening. She had organized a romantic dinner for Richard, at home, and she desired so deeply he enjoyed it. She stared at her lap for a while, wondering how she could solve the problem of the dress. Maybe she could agree him in a sexy gown night, but she refused the idea a moment later. Also her gown nights had become too large. Maybe wearing one of his shirts would be intriguing, but then she thought that it would be too much. She wasn't sure if he wanted to make love to her that night. Not after what had happened. Not after having seen her in their bed for the last month. Probably he didn't desire her anymore. She closed her eyes firmly at her last silent statement. She had allowed him to see her so down, wearing only night gowns and robes, without make up. How could he desire her? She couldn't deny that sometimes she had seen a sparkle in his eyes when he had looked at her completely naked in the bath tub, but it had lasted for a few seconds. Probably he didn't find her attractive, no more. She felt tears burning in her eyes at the idea. He could be still in love with her, but he wouldn't love her anymore. Her body had changed, maybe aged in the last month. She had become too thin, she knew that. Her breast was smaller than before and her muscles were less toned. She felt weak and tired. But she needed to go out of that tunnel of fear and melancholy. She needed to go ahead with her life. For her sake and for his. Most of all for his. She loved him so deeply that she couldn't stand to see that sadness in his eyes, that wave of fear and resignation in his expression. She wanted to see a smile on his face. She needed his smile to go ahead, to accept and maybe overcome what had happened. Her daughter wouldn't come home. Her granddaughter wouldn't come to her. That was a fact. And she could do nothing to change it.
She shook her head forcefully and then stood up. She walked towards the closet again and took a red dress. She wore it. She closed the zipper and then put a big white belt around her waist. She closed it and turned around towards the mirror. It was not too bad, she thought looking at the image. She took in two deep breaths and then went down the stairs. Looking for the keys of her Jag she tried to maintain her calm. It would be hard, but at least she would come back to her life. She grabbed her purse and put on her coat and then walked towards the main door. Her hands leaned shakily on the handle and she felt her heat pulsing quickly in her chest. Breathing deeply she turned the handle and opened the big wooden door slowly. It was simpler than she had imaged. The faint light of the afternoon hit her eyes the moment she took her first step forward. The fresh air of the autumn made her to cough lightly. Looking around she smiled weakly. Nothing had changed. The driveway was the same as the fountain and the gate. The trees were still there as the houses of the neighbours. Nothing had changed out of her house. Her life had been destroyed inside, but outside the world had continued to go ahead. And she wanted to be part of that world again. Crying and rolling in her bed hadn't made them to come back. The only effect of her desperation had been making her feeling weak and sick, and making Richard wondering where his wife had gone. She looked one more time around and then walked towards the garage. Turning on the engine she felt a weird sensation crossing her back. Suddenly the scene of her father telling her how to put her hands on the steering wheel showed up in her mind. She had been so frightened that day. It had been the first time she drove a car and she had been so excited. Driving a car meant independence. Driving car meant to be grew up, no more a little girl, but a young woman. The reassuring face of her father warmed her heart still after more than forty years, and gave her the courage to drive again. The short trip to the boutique seemed longer than usual, but at least she hadn't met too cars in her way, so her first driving out had been calm.
Entering the boutique she felt her knees getting weak and her hands sweating lightly. People stared. People knew. And people would ask for explanations. She considered for a moment the possibility to turn around and running home. But the thought of Richard made her to take a step forward and walking towards the centre of the boutique. Some person asked and some person simply stared. She felt angry and embarrassed at the same time. She had wanted to yell at them and at the same time she had wanted to hide her behind a wall. But once again she thought about her plan and her strength came back slowly. Richard. The man of her life. He deserved his wife back. And she would have given him her back soon. That evening. She bought a beautiful red long dress, with pailettes and tulle. She smiled weakly at some person and then went back to home. The trip seemed shorter this time, and she couldn't help to feel a bit proud of herself. Her first experience out of that bed, alone, between other people had been fine. Not easy at all, but not too difficult at least.
She parked her car in the garage and walked straight to her bedroom. A wave of pain hit her the moment she walked past her daughter's bedroom. She had to stop for a moment, her head in a light spinning, her hands grabbed the big black shopper shakily. She swallowed hard.
"You decided to leave. Well. I cried all my tears. Now it's time I'll go ahead. For my husband. And for you. No matter how you hate me I love you. I still love you. Both of you."
She whispered between a couple of tears that rolled down her cheeks. She breathed deeply and then went to her bedroom.
The water beat warmly against her skin, the smell of her shower gel filled the room completely. She felt better. Definitely better than before. He had made her feeling alive the night before, caressing her side gently in the middle of the night. And she would make him feeling better that night. She would have done her body and her heart to him, if he wanted her to.
She stayed under the shower for a long time. The water washed away part of her pain and made her feeling stronger. She dressed slowly, looking more than once at the mirror and then she put on her make up. But there was something that didn't convince her. She could still see the woman that lay in the bed for a month in the mirror, and she didn't want this. She closed her eyes for a moment and without really thinking she walked towards the nightstand and took the phone in her right hand, dialling a number quickly. Half an hour later she looked again at the mirror, and this time she was satisfied by the sight. All that she saw was Emily. Richard's wife, nothing more and nothing less.
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard the door opening downstairs. Excitement and worry filled her body. She hoped he appreciated her surprise, but she was frightened by the possibility he refused her. She took in a deep breath, her eyes closed firmly, and then went out of her bedroom. She walked slowly and stopped just atop of the stairs.
Richard had a hard time to believe at his eyes. She was a vision. She was atop of the stairs, completely dressed, wearing a pair of varnish shoes with high heels, the engagement ring on her finger. She was beautiful. His gaze fell on her breast, too small he thought, but still soft, filling the top of the dress perfectly. And then his eyes made their way up, to her face. She was smiling shyly at him. He felt his heart melting for her. She was looking at him and she was smiling. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen her smiling and honestly he had thought that he would have never seen that smile again. But he was wrong. She was there, beautiful and smiling again. He stared at her in ecstasy, his eyes glued on her. He noticed only after a while that she had cut her hair. She was simply beautiful with her short curly hair that fell just over her shoulders. He liked her more this way. He loved her curls.
Emily felt her heart beating wildly in her chest. The moment her eyes met his she forgot of everything. It was as if she was looking at him for the first time in her life. The same emotions that filled her heart over forty years ago were come back. He was the man of her life, the true love. And she loved him more than her life. She swallowed hard and walked down the stairs slowly, her left hand lifting lightly the dress.
He gasped at the sight of her legs under the long red gown. She wasn't wearing pantyhose, and that particular made his heart pulsing quickly in his chest. He glued his gaze on her face and smiled at her tenderly. The moment their hands touched both of them felt wave of electricity crossing their backs. She took a step closer and he instinctively bent down slowly, giving her the possibility to pull away. But she stayed there, close to him, her eyes on his. He shortened the distance between them slowly and then leaned his lips on hers carefully. She closed her eyes and felt tears burning in them. It felt better than she could remember. He put his arms around her waist and enjoyed the feeling of her body against his. He kissed her gently, lips on lips. She responded willingly. They pulled away slowly, his right hand caressing her hair.
"You're beautiful." He whispered.
She blushed slightly.
"You're beautiful." He repeated before bending down again.
This time the kiss was more passionate. She opened her mouth against his and he let his tongue slipping inside softly. She felt warm and tender. More than he remembered. His tongue explored every inch of her mouth, playing lovingly with hers. She felt shivers crossing her back when his hand caressed gently down the line of her spine. She smiled against his mouth. She knew that the pain her daughter put in her heart would never leave, but she wasn't alone. She had Richard, and he had her. He felt her breast brushing against his chest, her small frame close to him. She was his entire life. And she was back. Despite what happened she was back. He felt tears burning in his eyes. Only the day before he had been scared by the idea of losing her as he had lost his daughter and granddaughter. But now she was there, in his arms, kissing him with her passion. He knew that the pain their daughter inflicted them would have accompanied them for the rest of their lives, but they weren't alone. He had Emily, and she had him.
His hands caressed her back gently while hers played with his hair. It felt good being together again, it felt good kissing her again as he felt good letting him holding her tenderly. Both knew that they had had to pull away, but the need of being close was bigger than the need of air. They kissed for a long time. As there was no future out of their embrace, as the life started and ending there, in the few inches their mouths kissed.
Emily unwillingly pulled away first, her hands slipping down on his chest. Richard looked at her and smiled. She breathed heavily and laughed shyly. Their first kiss after a month was definitely good. More than good. Almost perfect. He cupped her cheeks and stared at her lovingly. Only the day before she had spent all her time in her bed and now she was back. He had noticed a little change the night before. She had snuggled closer and had allowed him to caress her side, but he couldn't imagine her out of their bedroom so soon. She had surprised him, pleasantly surprised. And he was glad she had done it, most of all he was proud of her. He knew how much she had suffered, and the thin wave of pain that was still in her eyes could tell how much she was suffering right now, but she found the force to stand up and going ahead.
Emily moved his hands gently from her cheeks to her waist and leaned her head on his chest, resting her ear just on the spot over his heart. She smiled weakly. It felt so good listening to the beating of his heart, it had always calmed her down. She caressed his arms gently, while his hands stroked her back slowly.
Richard inhaled deeply in her scent, that magic mixture of Chanel nr.5, orange and honey, shampoo and above all Emily. His Emily. He smiled weakly. He was so happy now, but his body was still a bit tired. The stress of the past weeks had made him feeling aged.
"Richard?" She called in a whisper.
"Yes, dear?" He responded pulling away lightly and looking down at her.
"What do you think about dinner?" She asked still caressing his upper arms.
"I'd like to have it with you." He said bending down to kiss her forehead.
She chuckled and then took his hand in hers, walking towards the dining room. The table was elegantly prepared, tens little candles illuminated the room with a yellow faint light, while the flowers filled the air with their delicate smell.
Richard looked down at his wife and stared at her still stunned for her change.
"Richard, why are you staring at me? Something wrong?" She asked suspiciously.
"Nothing wrong, my dear. It's only that you're so beautiful…." He whispered before bending down for another passionate kiss.
Emily let him deepen the kiss and almost gasped when he lifted her in his arms.
"Richard, what are you doing?" She asked pulling away.
"I want to be with you." He responded covering her mouth with his a second later.
She tried to pull away again, but the feeling he created with his kiss was too good to interrupt him. She let him carry her upstairs and tried to relax. The idea of him making love to her frightened her a lot. It was their first time after what had happened, and they were changed. At least she was, and her body was too.
Richard climbed the stairs with Emily in his arms, her good scent winding his mind. All that he wanted was her. And loving her. Nothing more. The moment they reached their bedroom he pulled away lightly, looking straight in her eyes.
"Emily." He whispered.
She looked deeply at him, her eyes glued on his.
"Are you sure?" She asked hesitantly.
"What?" He responded puzzled.
"I mean, are you sure you really want…." She continued looking down.
"Are you asking me if I want to make love to you?" He said confused.
Why on hell he wouldn't want to love her? She was the perfect woman for him and he had dreamed for that moment more than once in the last days.
She nodded shyly.
"Emily, making love to you is the thing I want more. I love you and I missed you." He said softly, still holding her in his arms.
"I'm sorry." She whispered.
He bent down and kissed her cheek lightly.
"I love you." He said in her ear.
"I love you too." She responded against his hair.
They entered their bedroom slowly, a wave of pain hit both of them. That was the place where she had cried all her tears for her daughter and granddaughter, the place where he had stared at her worriedly.
"Richard, not here. Please." She pleaded with tears in her eyes.
He nodded and walked out of the room silently. No needs of words.
"Richard, it was amazing. And you were amazing." She said still half out of breath against his chest.
"Yes it was." He whispered nuzzling his chin on her hair.
"I wonder why we didn't use this room before. This bed is really comfortable." Emily said caressing his chest slowly.
"Maybe we could transform that guest room into a second bedroom for us." He suggested playfully.
"Maybe…." She conceded.
"Emily?" He said getting serious.
"Mhh?" She mumbled.
"I'm glad you came back." He started to say, but she cut him off immediately.
"No Richard. Not now. I had allowed you to see me so down, and I was wrong." She said lifting up to look in his eyes.
"You weren't wrong Emily. You were destroyed." He tried to reassure her.
"But you were destroyed too, and all I did was rolling up and down in that bed. I hadn't been a good wife." She said leaning her back on the pillow.
"Don't say it, please. Don't be angry at her." He said turning his head towards her.
"It's my fault, Richard. She ran away because of me. Your daughter took your granddaughter away from you because of me. You should hate me." She said in a low and trembling voice.
Richard listened to her silently.
"I shouldn't hate you, Emily. She ran away because of us. Both of us. And because of her. She doesn't love our lives, our world. She wants to be free and independent. I know that's hard to accept, but she's no more a little girl. She's a mother and I hope she could find her way. She's fine. She has a job and new friends in that little town where she went. And we will be always there for her." Richard said holding her hands in his firmly.
The tears filled her eyes and she couldn't see clearly anymore.
"She won't come home. She hates me and she wont' come home." She whispered between her sobs.
"She doesn't hate you. She dislikes your world, but she doesn't hate you. You're her mother and I'm sure she misses you." Richard said calmly.
He had gone to visit their daughter the week before, and she had told him that she needed time. She needed to find her way alone, far from Hartford, far from their proper world. He had pleaded her to come home, but she had refused. By the time he had waited for her in her room at the hotel, he had noticed a thing. Leaned on the little chair next to the closet there was a sweater. A familiar sweater. He had walked towards the chair and had smiled weakly at the sight of Emily sweater. Atop of it there was simple silver frame with a beautiful photo. Emily holding little Lorelai, smiling lovingly at her baby.
He was sure she doesn't hate her. She misses her, but she was too alike to her mother to admit it. Too proud to do it.
Emily snuggled closer to Richard and let him cuddling her for a while.
He stroked her naked back gently, enjoying the feeling of her skin on his.
"I think we should go downstairs. I'm a bit hungry." She said pulling away slightly.
"I think we should." He responded smiling.
She was hungry and she wanted to eat.
She was back.
His Emily was back and wanted to live again.
That night they became one, again.