A/N: Going beta-less on this chapter, so please forgive if it's a little rough around the edges. I wanted to get it out before the weekend. I'm also getting close to the end with this one, and I appreciate everyone's reviews so far.

Chapter 10: An Affair to Remember

Valentine's Day fell on a Wednesday that year, but by silent agreement neither Luke or Lorelai discussed it, choosing instead to make plans to attend April's school dance together the following Friday night. Luke knew that having her help him chaperone a middle school event was not the most romantic way to spend the holiday, but the prospect seemed to enliven her more than any weekend away he could have planned.

When Luke mentioned to Anna that he had asked Lorelai to go with him to the dance, he did so as a courtesy, not to ask permission. And while she allowed her displeasure to show, she did not argue the point. She did give him a warning that if April got hurt somehow because of his relationship with Lorelai, their custody agreement would be severely renegotiated.

As for April herself, she delighted in Luke and Lorelai's tentative steps back toward each other, offering her approval at every opportunity. In fact, she had been the one to initially suggest that Luke bring her to the Valentine's dance, mentioning that extra adults were never frowned upon.

The ride to the dance was oddly comfortable, familiar in a way Luke could not pinpoint. He had picked up Lorelai first, handing her a single red rose and a box of Mallomar cookies as she opened the door. They were clichéd Valentine's day gifts, he knew, but she smiled brightly at his understated gesture, reminded once again of how well he knew her.

Together they drove to Woodbridge to get April, who was possibly more excited about the two of them going with her than she was about the actual dance itself. Listening to the girls talk, Luke found himself wondering how he could have ever been foolish enough to think Lorelai would overshadow him as a parent. Even though she tended to dominate whatever conversation she was a part of, she still had a way of turning things back around to include him.

"I can't believe you got him to do the basket auction," April marveled, having witnessed her father's firm stance on those dreaded town functions.

"He spent over fifty dollars on two stale pop tarts and a slim jim," she said proudly, looking over at the man driving the truck.

"You drug me out there and made me bid," he grumbled, more out of habit than actual annoyance.

"And then he made us lunch, including brownies," she told April, adding in a whisper, "Deep down, he's really just a softie."

"I am not," he declared, causing both of them to giggle at his indignation. Sitting in the truck with the two of them, felt new and different, yet familiar. It felt… right, like his entire life had been building to that precise moment. He had a woman who loved him, who was willing to wait for him to figure things out. And he had a daughter, this whole other person who was a piece of him, who looked up to him and trusted him with her upbringing. It occurred to Luke suddenly that at that moment, in the close confines of his truck, he had something that was missing from his life for a long time. He had a family.

"You okay?" Lorelai asked, noticing how quiet he had become.

Luke just nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. So where are we supposed to park for this thing…?"

The dance was typical of such events, the middle school gymnasium awash with pink, red, and white, with every available surface and fixture covered in streamers, balloons, and heart-shaped cut-outs. The DJ had set himself up in an unobtrusive corner, although true to Lorelai's predictions, most of the evening no one actually danced, probably because the kids felt self-conscious around each other.

However, as the night wind to a close, the DJ began playing more mellow songs, allowing the assembled teenagers to practice the age-old art of one-on-one male/female social interaction of slow dancing. Luke noted with a bit of instinctive disapproval that April was asked to dance by a tall, well-dressed boy he did not recognize. He watched as they walked onto the floor and started swaying together in time with the music.

Lorelai followed his gaze and then looked back at him in amusement. "I know a way you can see them more clearly without looking like you're spying," she said. And without waiting for him to respond, she took his hand and gently led him onto the dance floor as well. He could have stopped her but he didn't, instead choosing to pull her flush against him as they settled into the dance, a movement that brought both disagreeable frowns and envious glances from the other chaperones stationed by the walls.

"You know, I heard somewhere that you were a good dancer," Lorelai remarked quietly to him.

"Yeah?" he asked, not bothering to hide his pleasure at the compliment.

"Better be careful," she teased. "Showing these kids how it's really done, might give them ideas…"

As if to demonstrate her very words, he spun her around in slow motion, earning looks of romantic approval from the nearby teenage girls and curious scrutiny from the boys. But Lorelai ignored them all, luxuriating in Luke's undivided attention after having been denied it for so long. As they continued dancing, he gazed at her with an expression of unguarded love and affection, something she knew he felt, had always felt, but had not allowed himself to express.

In some ways, the dance felt like their first, when he had asked her at Liz's wedding. That night, Lorelai knew that she had truly seen him for the first time, had recognized the passion and feeling that lay behind those soulful blue eyes. It scared her a little to see him so open, much as it had when he told her he was "all in" on their first date. But Lorelai was not scared anymore; she had not been for a long time. In fact, she felt more frightened by the possibility of never seeing him look at her like that again.

For his part, Luke simply gave himself up to his emotions for a time, letting himself get lost in the rhythm between them and the warmth of her against him. They could have been anywhere – the streets of Italy, a crowded New York restaurant, or even their living room at home. He could see only her, could think only of her. When the music finally stopped and the dance officially ended, Luke still felt as though he were under her spell, intoxicated by her very presence. She had enchanted him once again, and he willingly surrendered himself to the feeling.

The drive home was surprisingly quiet. April said little as she was too busy smirking to herself in self-satisfaction. Lorelai tried to engage them both in conversation, but eventually gave up the attempt when it became clear that neither had any desire to talk. She did sneak glances over at Luke when she thought he was not looking, smiling in feigned embarrassment when he caught her. After they dropped April off at home, he reached over to hold Lorelai's hand, giving her a tender smile as he did so.

When they reached her house, Luke turned the truck off and walked around to open her door. But as they headed towards her house, the familiarity of the scene struck them both with a force that it was impossible to ignore. Luke could not help but be reminded of the morning after Kirk had driven Taylor's car through the diner, the morning he had finally reconciled himself to 'jumping' and doing whatever he had had to do to keep her. That same morning she had told him those four simple words that ripped into him with so much pain she might as well have struck him.

Lorelai remembered as well, and by the time they reached her front door, she could not help but recall through vivid flashes the nights Christopher had bid her goodnight in that very same spot. She had not seen it then, or if she had, she ignored it. But when Chris had kissed her and she shut her eyes, she had wished it was Luke kissing her, whispering sweet words of love and devotion in her ear. Luke had always been with her – every moment a memory of him, a reminder of what she wanted back.

Of course, she knew then that she had burned her bridges without meaning to, hurt him without intending to do so. In her desperate attempt to escape the pain, she had caused even more, for both of them. She had never considered the possibility of a second chance with Luke. Perhaps that lack of hope was the only thing that kept her from going completely insane at first. But now, with Luke standing in front of her and looking deeply into her eyes, hope was the only thing tethering her to reality.

Luke hesitated for several seconds before moving forward and with deliberate slowness cupped her cheek with one hand. Lorelai automatically closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. And when he kissed her, she did not have to imagine he was someone else, that she was someone else. For one brief moment, they were who they had always been: friends and lovers.

When they separated, Lorelai found herself wanting more of him, body and soul, to return completely to what they once shared. Her need for him was real and immediate, like a physical pressure within her chest that she could no longer bear to live with.

"Do you want to come in?" she asked, then flinched involuntarily as she remembered saying those same words to Christopher. They sounded so trite and common, like she was suggesting something casual. She regretted speaking them almost as soon as they left her mouth.

Luke noticed her reaction as well, and the reason was easy for him to infer. He wanted so much to simply give into her soft entreaty and forget all the intervening unhappiness. But there was still something that weighed on him, something he had to know.

"Why did you go to Boston?" he asked.

His question caught her off guard, although she had been expecting it for some time. Unfortunately, Lorelai was no closer to finding an answer than she ever had been.

"I don't know," she told him. "I was upset and I thought we were over-"

Luke shook his head, not accepting the explanation she had given before. "If you thought we were over, why didn't you come home and cry and call me like you did before?"

"I don't know," she said again, more desperately than before. "But I didn't mean to hurt you. I wasn't punishing you."

"Weren't you?" he said, his words more of a comment than a question.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Lorelai repeated painfully, letting the statement hang between for several long moments before continuing. "You're not going to be able to forgive me for this, are you?" she said finally in resignation.

"I just need to understand why…" he stressed.

Lorelai felt like a drowning person who had finally given up the will to keep struggling against the tide. Their romantic evening had been ruined. He was once again doubting her, asking her questions she could not answer with any satisfaction. It felt so much like 'one step forward and two steps back' that she wondered if they would ever be able to get back to where they had been before.

She shrugged and gave him an ironic half-smile. "I can't tell you, because I don't know. I can promise you it won't happen again, but I know you don't trust me yet, so you probably can't believe that yet. But I don't know what else to tell you, Luke. I don't know what else I can do…" She reached out a hand and placed it along his cheek, mimicking the way he had touched her earlier. "Luke, I love you. I really do. There's nothing more I can do to make you see that. So let me know if you ever decide that's enough."

As she went inside and closed the door behind her, Luke suddenly felt very cold and alone, as though he was letting something precious slip through his fingers.

"What time's the jousting?"

"Two o'clock."

"And the sword fighting?"

"Right after the jousting."

"What about the falconry exhibit?" April pursued. "What time does that start?"

"Would you just give her the schedule, TJ?" Luke growled, growing tired of their antics. They had been going round and round the entire drive to the renaissance faire grounds, TJ being too stubborn to give up the itinerary of events and April unwilling to let him win the contest of wills. However, while his brother-in-law's childish behavior irritated him, he found his daughter's to be somewhat endearing, considering he had always seen her act so grown up.

Thankfully, Liz had gotten sick of the back-and-forth as well, and she snatched the schedule out of TJ's hand and handed it to April. He glared at her in obvious disappointment, but she quickly distracted him by pointing to the baby sleeping in the car seat between them. Because Luke's truck was too small, they had taken her and TJ's car, allowing Luke to drive so that he could sit up front with April while they sat in the back with Gary.

Several weeks had passed since Liz's delivery, and as the recovery process had added to her cabin fever from the earlier bed rest, she insisted on a family outing. This decision coincided nicely with the opening of the Faire nearby. While she and TJ would not be joining the circuit any time soon, they did want to show off the baby to their friends and colleagues, as well as their niece, who Liz had previously promised to take to the faire anyway.

"I don't see why she gets to have the schedule," TJ whined. "She already has it memorized."

"Everyone in this car has it memorized," Luke retorted, having heard it repeated half a dozen times in the past half-hour. He quickly rattled off, "Juggling at eleven, dancing at noon, strong-man competition at one o'clock-"

"Oh, Hay Bale Bill is going to be competing this year," Liz cut in. "Ever since he and Grog Booth Annie split up, he's been focusing more on his career."

"That's… probably good for him," Luke managed as he pulled the car into a parking spot. "I didn't realize the two of them were together for that long."

"Oh yeah," TJ interjected. "They were hot and heavy after she dumped the fruit ice guy-"

"Well, he dumped her, really," Liz corrected, "when he heard about Bill. But after that, they were nearly inseparable."

As they climbed out of the car and started walking through the parking lot towards the faire grounds, April's asked, "What happened to them?"

"I bet Annie crawled into another tent with a jouster," Luke muttered.

"No, actually," Liz contradicted. "Bill got so suspicious about her spending time with his brother that he ended up pushing her away completely."

"Sounds like they weren't meant to be," he said decidedly.

Everyone was quiet for a moment until TJ said decisively, "No, Bill was just an idiot."

"What happened to Grog Booth Annie?" April pursued, fascinated with the story.

"Oh, she ended up back with the Fruit Ice guy. They're actually down on a circuit in Florida," Liz said. She thought for a moment, then pursed her lips. "I want to go to Florida," she declared, looking at TJ. "Why don't we ever go to Florida?"

"Because it's… far away," he answered. "And there's too much sun. You know how badly I burn when I'm out in the sun too long."

"That's true," Liz conceded.

Liz and TJ spotted a friend they wanted to talk to, so they walked ahead with Gary in tow, allowing Luke and April to follow behind at a more leisurely pace.

"So…" April began, obviously wanting to say something but not sure how to bring it up.

"So…?" Luke echoed.

"Well, I was just going to say that it seemed like you and Lorelai had a nice time at the dance on Friday," she said.

He nodded slightly. "Um… yeah, we did."

His hesitation prickled at April's intuition and she prompted, "But?"

Luke sighed deeply, not wanting to discuss the issue with his daughter, mostly because he did not think it was appropriate to talk about such things with a thirteen-year-old girl. But at the same time, he had difficulty reconciling his own feelings about the situation. Lorelai was there – she was patiently waiting for him to work things out, despite everything they had already gone through after finding out about April. And he knew that she was allowing it because she felt guilty for sleeping with Christopher. Her guilt over that was obvious, like a scarlet letter she carried with her, tattooed under her skin and ever-present in her mind.

And yet, he was still having trouble forgiving her. The betrayal ran so deep, cut so jagged an edge in his heart that he simply could not force himself to trust her again. Although, paradoxically, he did trust her. Luke genuinely believed that she regretted both that night with Christopher and the rebound relationship she started with him afterwards. But somehow, he could not help but wonder whether she would do it again, if pushed hard enough.

"It's complicated," he told April after several moments of thought.

She snorted with the incredulity of the young. "That's just an easy way of saying you're afraid," she declared. Luke raised an eyebrow at her, both a question and warning. "You're in love with her," she explained. "You should just let yourself feel the way you want to feel. Stop fighting it."

"It's not always that simple," he told her.

She shrugged in response, clearly not convinced. "Sometimes," she conceded. "But sometimes it is."

Luke snorted at her vague certainty. "You learn that in one of those romance movies?"

"No," April said simply. "I learned it from you." He gave her a curious look that prompted her to explain, "You don't complicate things. You take people for who they are, especially Lorelai. I mean, on one level, you two have practically nothing in common. You don't even eat the same foods. But somehow you're perfect together, because you appreciate her for being herself. It's the same with Liz, and TJ, and even Kirk. You like them despite their flaws. You've just forgotten that with Lorelai."

Not wanting to continue the conversation, Luke quickly distracted his daughter with the sights and experiences of the renaissance faire, and she let the topic drop. But throughout the rest of the day, he found himself turning over her words in his mind. With so many reasons to distrust Lorelai and fear getting hurt by her again, it was difficult to focus on the one thing that could erase all that: he did love Lorelai Gilmore. And he knew that he always would.

Luke had little time to contemplate his relationship problems over the following week. As he limited Lane's duties at the diner to less stressful and strenuous activities (in particular, he had her handling almost all of his administrative and office responsibilities), he had to pick up the extra slack himself. And because he did not want Lane to think he had replaced her by hiring additional help, Luke found himself busy all the time.

On the afternoon of Caesar's day off, he was concentrating so hard on taking orders while simultaneously watching the kitchen that he did not even notice when Lorelai entered. At least, he did not notice her until she walked behind the counter to pick up the coffee pot. He was about to yell at her to wait until he could pour it himself when he saw her begin to fill not her own cup, but that of another customer.

Just as she had when his uncle had died and Luke needed help around the diner, she began winding her way through the crowd of customers, refilling coffee and taking orders. She was still wearing her good clothes from working at the inn all day, but she smiled and greeted people with the never-ending supply of energy for which she was so well known. When she brought him the orders in the kitchen, she only took a second to flash him a friendly smile before pinning the orders up for him to see and returning to the counter.

They worked just like that through the rest of the dinner rush, barely conversing at all except to pass orders and plates of food back and forth. At one point, Luke did stop her long enough to take an unused apron and tie it around her so that her work clothing would not get ruined. The act took only a second or two, but their eyes met and lingered for a moment before they were forced to return to work.

By the time the crowd began to thin out a little, it was nearly seven o'clock. Luke had spent most of the evening in the kitchen, but every once in a while he would stick his head out to check on Lorelai. She moved as though she were being paid for it, taking orders, handling the cash register, busing tables – anything that needed doing, she did without hesitation.

About that time, Lane came down from Luke's apartment, embarrassed that she had missed the dinner rush (having fallen asleep on the couch after updating the diner's books). Luke came out of the kitchen to assure her that everything was under control.

"Lorelai's here," she argued, obviously feeling guilty about her boss treating her differently because of the pregnancy. "I can still work. I'm not an invalid."

"Luke," Lorelai tried to interrupt, "That guy over there wanted extra fries with this."

"Just a second," he told her before turning back to Lane. "You're like, eleven months pregnant," he exaggerated in quiet, urgent tones. "You don't need to be running around on your feet all day. The last thing I need is for you to go into labor right here…"

Lorelai glanced between Luke and the man at the table who had practically bitten her head off about the fries. He was still glaring at her resentfully as she stood waiting for Luke, who had gotten into a full-blown argument with Lane about her work schedule.

Feeling impatient, Lorelai took the rapidly cooling plate and headed into the kitchen, already knowing where the stash of fresh fries was kept. While her ex-fiance had never allowed her to actually use the diner's stove (not that she wanted to), she had been a regular customer for so many years, she knew where to find everything.

Unfortunately, the one thing she was not prepared for was the grease-filled skillet sitting on the edge of the stove. Without even seeing it, she accidentally bumped into the pan, upending the grease onto her outstretched arm holding the plate of fries.

Luke heard her painful cry an instant before the plate and frying pan hit the floor, and he was by her side just as quickly. "Lorelai!" he exclaimed, needing only a second to take in the scene. "What are you doing in here?" he asked, even as he moved to examine her burned arm.

"I was just getting extra fries-" she began quietly before he cut her off.

"You know you're not supposed to be back here!" Luke practically shouted. But before she could respond, he was ushering her up to the apartment so that he could take a better look at her arm. "Lane, watch the counter," he called out.

"Luke, really, I'm fine. It's just a little burn," Lorelai tried to protest, but he had already gotten her to the top of the stairs.

"We need to put water on it," he said as he guided her swiftly to the bathroom. Once there, he gently took her arm in his hand and held it under a stream of cold water in the sink.

"It's fine, really," she said again. "The stove wasn't even on, so the grease wasn't that hot-"

Luke ignored her as he closely examined her skin, letting the water wash away the oily grease to reveal blotchy red spots where it had landed. He was careful not to touch the area, knowing how sensitive it would be. "It looks like you're going to get some blisters," he evaluated, already noticing the swelling on her arm.

"Shouldn't we get ice or butter or something?" Lorelai asked.

Luke shook his head vehemently. "No, no, no," he told her. "Absolutely not. Just hold your arm under the water for a while, then we'll wrap it in a wet cloth. If it still looks bad, I'll take you to the hospital."

Despite his words, Luke had not let go of her arm, holding it gingerly in both of his hands as he watched the water run across her burned skin. Logically, he knew that at most it was a second degree burn, one that would hurt for a while but would ultimately heal. But a deeper, more primal part of his brain began throwing out worse scenarios. What if the stove had been on and the grease had been hotter? What if it had splashed her face instead of her arm? What if a fire had started and she had really gotten burned?

He silently cursed himself for being so careless as to leave a pan of hot grease just sitting on the stove like that, where she so easily bumped into it. What if it had been Lane, in the delicate condition she was in? The more he thought about it, the more the possibilities began to panic Luke until the fear morphed into outright anger.

"What were you doing in the kitchen anyway?" he growled. "I've told you not to go back there. My insurance doesn't cover you."

Even though Lorelai knew he spoke out of concern, she could only focus on the irritation in his voice. "I'm sorry," she said. "I was just trying to help."

"You getting hurt doesn't help me," he declared, pulling her arm out of the sink. He reached for a wash cloth, quickly soaked it with water, then gently began to wrap it around her exposed arm. "Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?"

"Luke, I-" She tried to speak, to apologize again and explain why she had gone into the kitchen. But the words died on her lips as she noticed that Luke's hands, carefully holding the wash cloth to her arm, were physically shaking. His chest was heaving as though he was out of breath, and tiny beads of perspiration had begun to dot his forehead. He looked terrified.

"Luke, I'm okay," Lorelai said again, reaching out her other hand to take one of his. "Luke, really, it's okay. I promise. It doesn't even hurt anymore." But as she spoke, he refused to meet her eyes, staring instead at her arm. He looked so upset that it was beginning to really scare her. "Luke, this isn't anything. It's like a papercut. Well, maybe a little worse than a papercut, but still. It was just me being clumsy and being where I wasn't supposed to be, and doing what I wasn't supposed to do…"

Her voice cut out for a moment as she realized that the feelings Luke was struggling with had nothing to do with the burn on her arm and everything to do with them. He was still trembling with barely contained emotions, and Lorelai had to force herself not to simply wrap her arms around him in a gesture of comfort.

"Luke, I'm sorry," she told him, her voice shaking from the effort. "This wasn't your fault-"

"Yes, it was," he said meaningfully. He met her eyes this time as he stated, "I should have been there for you. You were trying to help me, and I wasn't there for you."

She paused. "We're not talking about my arm anymore, are we?" But before he could answer, she continued on. "Luke, I'm sorry I hurt you. I am so sorry. You don't know how sorry I am, how much I wish I could take it back-"

"Lorelai-"

"Wait, just let me say this." She looked down and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. When she looked up again, she let him see the sorrow and remorse in her expression, the emotions she had up until that moment done everything in her power to hide. "I know you want a reason, and I really wish I could give you one. I could tell you that I was trying to punish you, that I did it because I knew you would feel betrayed. But I didn't. I don't know why I did it, but I didn't do it to hurt you. I wasn't… I wasn't even thinking about you. I mean, I was obviously thinking about you, but…"

She stopped for a second, finding it difficult to communicate with the knot in her throat. When she spoke again, it was with a shakier voice as she fought back the tears that stuck at the edges of her vision. "All I could think about was that we were over, that you didn't want to marry me. And that hurt so much that I… I just wanted it to stop hurting. I wanted to stop feeling anything at all. So I didn't think about what I was doing or where I was going. I didn't think about what I was doing to you, how much it would hurt you. I swear, I didn't do it to hurt you, Luke. That's all I can tell you. That, and how sorry I am. I am so very sorry. Please believe me," she begged.

Luke found himself listening to the emotion in Lorelai's voice as much as the words themselves. He had heard her speak with regret before, overcome by sadness or desperation. But he had never heard her sound so anguished, not even the night she had asked him to elope.

"I do," he whispered, and it was the truth. He did believe her. He did trust her. He did forgive her. And most of all, he did love her.

But looking down at her, he saw the moisture brimming at the edges of her eyes, making them a brighter, clearer shade of blue. Glancing down further, he was reminded of the burn on her arm, covered by the damn wash cloth. He peeled it back slowly to examine her skin again. Indeed, the red pink splotches had begun to blister in a few places, although not as badly as he had feared. The blemishes reminded him that she had gotten hurt while helping him, because she had once again gone out of her way to be there when he needed her.

It occurred to Luke that all of his indecision and "taking time to work things out" had just been his unconscious way of punishing her. Maybe some dark part of himself wanted her to prove her love by suffering through the same heartache and longing that he had felt after their break-up. He wanted to see if she really loved him as much as she said she did. The realization sickened him.

He felt a vivid flash of memory from that night, that terrible night. She had been crying then too, or on the verge of it. And she had gazed up at him with those same brilliant, blue eyes, asking him to love her and to take the pain away. Luke hated himself for pushing her to that point, and for not having done what she asked that night.

"Lorelai…" he began, but then stopped himself. Luke had no idea how to express to her what he was feeling in that moment. He did not know how to erase the months of blame and self doubt he had caused her. He was also terrified of hurting her further, of showing himself even more unworthy of her.

"Luke!" they both heard someone call from the door to the apartment. The moment between them was instantly broken as they each recognized the voice.

"Is that Jess?" Lorelai asked at the same time he was thinking it.

"Jess?" Luke called out as they left the bathroom. And indeed, his sister's son was standing in the kitchen area, a bag thrown haphazardly over one shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

The young man shrugged, taking in the scene between his uncle and Lorelai before answering, "Thought I'd come up to see the new baby. Then my mom told me you were pretty busy here at the diner, so I thought I'd drop by and see if you could use a hand for a while."

Luke looked surprised but pleased at the offer. "Yeah, sure. But what about your job in Philadelphia?"

Jess said casually, "They can do without me for a little while." Despite his easy-going attitude, he eyed Lorelai suspiciously, as though wondering what she was doing there. "I saw Lane downstairs. She seemed kind of short handed…" he began.

Luke quickly sprang into action. "Oh right, well… why don't you get settled in… I mean, you're staying here, right? Well, get settled in, and I'll run down and check on Lane-" He turned back to Lorelai. "Are you going to be okay until I get back?" he asked, nodding to her arm.

She gave him a smile and a dismissive wave with her other hand. "I'm fine. Go help Lane."

"You sure?" he confirmed. "I have some bandages in the bathroom…"

"I'll find them," she assured him. "Now go back downstairs. Jess can help me if I need anything. And we can… talk later."

Luke stared at her for a moment, almost losing himself once again in her gentle expression before nodding once, very slightly, and then turning to head downstairs. Once he was gone, the door shut behind him, Lorelai let the mask that hid her disappointment slip away as she focused on the ground at her feet. She had forgotten Jess was still standing there until he said, "So what's going on with you two?"

"Um… nothing," she managed, unable to put the status of their relationship into words, let alone words she felt comfortable articulating to Luke's angry nephew.

"Yeah…" Jess said skeptically as he draped his bag across the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "Right."

"Jess, look, this isn't any of your business-"

"None of my business?" he interrupted sharply. "That's funny, 'cause I seem to remember everything being your business when it came to Rory's life."

"Rory's my daughter," she defended.

"And Luke's my uncle," he shot back. "And I don't want to see you tear his heart out again."

Lorelai sighed, too tired to argue with him. She was not certain how much he knew about her and Luke's break-up, but he obviously knew enough to hate her for it. It seemed an inescapable conclusion that she was fighting an up-hill battle when it came to getting Luke back. "Well, that makes two of us," she said softly.

Jess asked pointedly, "Do you love him?"

Without hesitation, Lorelai answered, "Yes, I do. I will always love him, whether he believes me or not."

He folded his arms across his chest in a gesture of defiance. "Liz told me what you did," he stated. She nodded, unsurprised, but made no comment. "Don't you have anything to say about that?" he prompted, annoyed by her lack of response.

"That's between me and Luke," she said finally, her tone firm but resigned. She turned to go back into the bathroom in search of the bandages Luke had mentioned.

Jess watched her walk away, and as he did so he was reminded of the first night he had met her and how she had defended his uncle to him without a second thought. Over the years, he had seen the two of them circle around each other, fumbling towards a future that neither was sure how to reach. Part of him hated Lorelai for betraying his uncle the way she did, and Jess found it difficult to see beyond that anger.

But if he was honest with himself, he knew from what his mother had told him that Luke was also partially to blame for their problems. However, while Jess had never enjoyed the best luck when it came to women, he knew love when he saw it. And he had just enough idealistic optimism left to hope that was enough for them.