AN: It appears that reviews aren't updating quite right, so I'm unable to respond to any as of this posting. I can see at least 5 have been added since I uploaded chapter 7, but they aren't showing up for me to read. Regardless, thank you to my mystery reviewers and I hope to be able to read what you have to say soon! Now, onward with the story! Also, please let me know if you think the plot is moving along too slow? I feel like I'm rehashing some of the same stuff over and over, but I'm really trying to set the tone and mood of the story.
Lorelai drove home in a daze, clutching the steering wheel tightly, tears streaming down her face. The encounter with Christopher had shaken her badly. Him showing up at dinner was the last thing she had expected. She couldn't get the expression on his face out of her head when she had accused him of raping her; he looked like he had been slapped. She knew the term was justified, but she also knew that it had hurt him deeply.
She gave a short laugh, unable to believe that she was caring that she had hurt him with her words. He had hurt her far worse with his actions. She was still having trouble sleeping at night. Persistent nightmares were still plaguing her, though none were all that graphic. They mostly consisted of flashes of his hands caressing her and the "I love you" he had panted into her ear. His actions showed anything but love, only selfishness and greed. She cringed as she forced the thought out of her head.
Before she knew it, the short drive from Hartford to Stars Hallow was over and she was pulling into her driveway. The house loomed dark and quiet in front of her. The silence closed in on her as she stepped into the foyer and the darkness cloaked her like a blanket. Flicking a light on, the living room was filled with warm light. Sighing heavily, she collapsed onto the couch. The encounter with Christopher had drained her and she was utterly exhausted. Not bothering to change out of her dress, she slipped her heels off and collapsed onto the couch. Pulling a blanket from the back of the couch, she wrapped it around herself, falling into a deep sleep.
Hours later she was roused from her sleep, blinking at the glare of the light flooding the room. Stumbling slightly as she stood, she turned off the light in the living room, once again shrouding the house in darkness. She wandered into Rory's room, where she slipped off her dress and bra, pulled on a t-shirt, and climbed into bed. She clasped a pillow to her chest, comforting herself with its softness as she buried her face in it. Inhaling deeply, she caught a whiff of a smell that nearly caused her heart to stop. Luke. The pillow must have somehow found its way from her room upstairs down into Rory's room. Shaking, she threw the pillow across the room in anger. She sat in bed, wheezing as memories engulfed her. Images of him sleeping in her bed, him playing with her hair, him making love to her flickered in front of her, like scenes from a silent movie. Those images were quickly followed by the more painful ones from recent months. Her finding out he kept April a secret for two months, him becoming distant and absent, him rejecting her plea to finally marry.
She gave a scream of anguish as she rocked herself back and forth on the bed. The hurt Luke had caused her over the last few months of their relationship did nothing to dull the memories of the pure joy and happiness she had felt with him before everything had fallen apart. The wound of their aborted relationship festered, even though she knew for her own sanity it would have been impossible to continue their relationship in the reality it had deteriorated in to. Christopher's betrayal was the added salt to the gaping wound in her heart, tearing at her until she wasn't sure who she was anymore.
She groaned as she slumped back down onto the bed. She just wanted a moment of peace from the torment that her mind was causing her. There had been a lot of hurt and pain in her life, but she had never allowed it to affect her like it was now. It was like she was damaged, her heart fractured into so many pieces she didn't know how she would ever tape it back together again. Staring at the ceiling, she resolved to try and heal herself. Living in the pain was getting her nowhere. Perhaps if she forced herself to appear happy, the pain would eventually dull. She could live with a dull throb for the rest of her life if she had to. Anything was better than the searing fire that now consumed her. She lay there quietly, staring at the ceiling, until her eyes finally drifted shut and she fell into a restless sleep.
The next morning, Lorelai walked into the kitchen of the inn in a cheerier mood than Sookie had seen her in days. Sookie's eyes roved over her and she noted that for the first time in over a week, Lorelai was impeccably dressed, her hair styled in loose curls, and her makeup perfectly applied. It was only when she got up close that Sookie could see the lines of fatigue on Lorelai's face and the shadows under her eyes carefully hidden by a layer of makeup.
"Hey sweetie. You here for some coffee? How about a fresh apple fritter? I just finished making some for breakfast," Sookie said brightly, glad to see Lorelai looking more like her usual self.
Sookie pressed a steaming cup of coffee into Lorelai's hands and followed it with a plate piled high with warm fritters. The heat from the fresh fritters made the glaze melt into little pools on the plate. Lorelai inhaled deeply, a smile on her face.
"These look amazing, thanks Sook," she said gratefully, taking a sip of coffee.
Sookie smiled widely, happy to see her friend eating again. In the week since the breakup, Lorelai's once insatiable appetite had dimmed. Sookie knew better than anyone how much Lorelai ate, and her absence from the kitchen had not gone unnoticed. The two chatted for a bit before Lorelai returned to her office. Shutting the door behind her, she let the smile fall from her face. She had decided that she would try her best to be in a better mood around Sookie and any other townie she might cross paths with. She was tired of the endless pitying looks and questions of how she was holding up. If one more person asked her how she was doing, she might scream. What she didn't consider was just how hard it was to act like the old Lorelai. As much as she tried to hide it, the wound in her heart was still there, infecting everything.
Lorelai slumped home at the end of her shift to find the light blinking on her answering machine. Presenting the old Lorelai had been an exhausting endeavor. While the jokes and witty banter hadn't flowed quite as easily from her mouth as it used to, she felt she made an admirable effort. Sookie had definitely seen the difference and the smile on her face had reassured Lorelai that she was making progress. Turning her attention back to the answering machine, she held her breath as she waited for the first message to play.
"Lorelai. It's your mother. We need to talk about your appalling behavior at dinner on Friday. First you made a mess of your dress, then you rushed from the room like someone was after you, then your stormed out! I honestly don't know what came over you. Poor Christopher was so embarrassed by your actions, he left without staying for dinner. How could you embarrass us like that! I expect to see you and Rory both next Friday and you better be on your best behavior. I won't accept anything less after that horrible display you put on."
Lorelai cringed as she listened to her mother's shrill voice echo through the house. She slumped to the floor, listening as her mother droned on. Of course, Christopher still somehow came out looking like the angel her parents always believed him to be. She sighed heavily. Her tenuous relationship with her parents was always measured by one step forward, two steps back. This time she had definitely taken more than two steps back. She had known her mother would be livid after her abrupt exit from dinner, but there was no way should could have sat at the table across from Christopher and made small talk the whole evening. The sound of the beep startled her from her thoughts and she waited breathlessly for the next message, a knot of apprehension forming in her stomach.
"Hey Lore, it's Chris. I just wanted to talk to you again. We didn't really get a chance to on Friday. I know your parent's house wasn't the best place to talk, but I was desperate. I just wanted to let you know you made me realize just how badly I screwed up. I know you don't want to talk to me, and that's fine. I just wanted to call you again to apologize. That night shouldn't have ended the way it did. I...I shouldn't have done what I did and I'm sorry. Look, I won't call you again until you make the initiative to contact me first. I want you to be able to trust me, so I'm going to give you some space. Just, don't take forever, ok? I miss my friend."
Lorelai leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes as Christopher's voice filled the house. A headache pulsed in her temple and the last vestiges of the good mood she had been in all day melted away. Her stomach was a jumbled mess of nerves as she listened to his message. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard him say that he wouldn't call her again. The relief turned to anger when she heard the end of his message. A friend wouldn't do what he did to her. His actions were the ultimate betrayal, the one thing she wasn't sure she would ever be able to forgive him for.
Groaning, she lifted herself off the floor and headed into the kitchen. She rummaged through her cupboards and managed to find a bottle of tequila. She found a shot glass and filled it, then knocked it back in one quick, well practiced motion. A grimace crossed her features as the alcohol burned its way down her throat. Another shot was knocked back, quickly followed by a third. She swirled the tequila around the bottle, mesmerized by the golden liquid sloshing around. She replaced the bottle of tequila in the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. It wouldn't do to drink too much and have to content with a hangover in the morning. The bottle of water was quickly gulped down and she headed into Rory's room to go to sleep. She curled up under the covers, allowing her body to relax into the comfortable numbness the alcohol afforded her. Thoughts swirled hazily around her mind, dull and sluggish from the tequila, before she drifted off to sleep.
