After coming back from a walk with Melanie, Christopher was dragging his feet as he entered his apartment. Melanie had been talking a lot, and he'd been listening—or pretending to. But his mind had wandered far more than he wanted to admit. As a matter of fact, Chris hadn't been able to concentrate on Melanie since talking to Richard…or maybe since even a couple of days before that. Since that birthday party.

As much as Chris liked Melanie—and he really did—he thought about her a lot less than he thought about Lorelai. His brain was dragging along with his feet as he slowly took off his shoes. Chris reflected vaguely that his relationship with Melanie was like buying a new pair of shoes. They were your favourite style and colour, and you liked them—you really liked them. You admired them frequently. But when it came to going out the door the next day, you put on your older, more comfortable pair without thinking twice. As much as your new shoes perfectly fit your specifications, for some inexplicable reason, you always wore your old pair.

What was the point of dating Melanie when, as much as he truly liked her, his mind—if not his heart—always seemed to be preoccupied with a past relationship?

Thoughts of last year were haunting Chris at times he least expected them. He remembered how he'd believed Lorelai was really happy when they were together, only to discover months later that she'd been regretting the break-up Luke all along. He would never wish that feeling—the dawning realization of being second choice—on anyone, friend or enemy. Yet unless he was able to shake off these constant thoughts about Lorelai, Chris was at risk of making Melanie eventually feel exactly the way he'd felt last year. When he was with Melanie, Chris was just as happy with her as Lorelai had appeared to be with him. It was just that as soon as Melanie left his sight, she almost as quickly left his mind.

Melanie trusted him so fully. He didn't want to ruin that trust. Better to tell her honestly now that he didn't see them ever becoming more than friends, than go along with a charade of a relationship only to break it off months later, or wait until Melanie realized the truth for herself and started to hate him.

There was definitely an eerie similarity between what he was doing to Melanie, and what Lorelai had done to him. But that wasn't all that was bothering Chris. Richard's words about marriage, about staying committed to his relationship with Lorelai, kept ringing in his mind.

Chris knew Lorelai regretted ending their marriage. He could see it written all over her face when she looked at him. The regrets and wishful thinking were there in the admiring glances she'd given Chris at Gigi's play, in the look of pain on her face when she'd seen him with Melanie, and in her quiet hints later that evening that every other man at the party couldn't measure up to him. Chris had been trying to push those hints out of his mind by repeatedly reminding himself that he was moving on with his life, that he was going to be strong and not let Lorelai interfere with his decisions again.

But Chris had more than a nagging suspicion that he wasn't being strong at all, but was instead childishly hiding from problems he should have tackled head-on. Last year, he'd been so convinced that he and Lorelai were meant to be together that he'd pursued her single-mindedly, without letting anything stand in his way. When he'd finally married her, he'd made a commitment for life.

Sure, Lorelai had given up on the commitment—he hadn't. But what did it say about his character that when she showed interest in reconciling, he—the man who'd told her he'd wait for her until they were both eighty—wouldn't even consider giving her a second chance? He'd promised to stand by Lorelai for the rest of his life, yet after a few months, he was running from every hint that she might want him to follow through on his promise after all.

Rory had blurted something out this past summer which she'd obviously instantly regretted, but which he'd nevertheless heard. "Dad, it's just like Mom said: you avoid conflict." Suddenly Chris had gained a flash of insight into Lorelai's mind. She'd believed that whenever things got tough, he wouldn't stand up for her—he'd hide or run away. And when Chris had realized he might be her second choice, running away was exactly what he'd done. He should have been a regular visitor at the hospital, for Richard and Rory's sake, if not Lorelai's. But in his defense, seeing Luke there had been an enormous blow to his self-respect. Crushed, Christopher hadn't been able to put his own wounds aside in time to support his family.

Chris knew that he often tried to avoid emotional situations, but he didn't think his feelings or responses were always unjustified. Even though he knew very well he should have spent more time with Rory in her childhood, it had always hurt him to see Rory thriving under Lorelai's care as though he wasn't needed at all. It hurt to see Lorelai leading a single life in Stars Hollow because she believed he couldn't support her. Seeing Lorelai, his wife, gaze longingly at everything connected with another man while systematically shutting down every suggestion of building a new life with her husband, had stung him beyond description.

Christopher held his head in his hands. He had a lot of hurt feelings when it came to Lorelai. But the truth was, as long as he nursed the pain and harboured the bitterness and avoided dealing with the unresolved issues from his two-month marriage, he was living proof that he really wasn't man enough to be a good husband.

Clearly, he and Lorelai weren't finished. Maybe they'd never be finished. Maybe they really would keep going back and forth like this until they were both eighty. If so, then so be it. Lorelai might have come to him the night she'd broken up with Luke, but Christopher had initiated everything that had followed. He was the one who'd called her, pursued her, confessed his love and told her he'd wait for her until they were both eighty. He was the one who'd orchestrated the romantic dates and the Paris dinner, the one who'd proposed, and the one who'd made a lifelong commitment. If he'd been willing to put so much effort into a relationship, he also had to be willing to deal with the consequences when it fell apart. If he'd wanted Lorelai so badly, he couldn't simply walk away when dealing with her became too difficult. He had to see his tangled relationship with Lorelai through to the end—if there even was an end—no matter how difficult and unrewarding the effort would be.

The first thing to do was to talk to Melanie. Chris sighed. It wouldn't be pleasant, but already he felt a burden off his shoulders. As much as it might hurt to see Melanie's face when he told her, it would hurt both of them far worse if he kept this relationship going indefinitely while his heart wasn't in it.

Ending his relationship with Melanie had been painful, but Chris was glad it was over. He'd told Melanie the truth—that he didn't see them as becoming any more than friends. And Melanie had taken it very graciously, like the lady she was. Maybe she'd guessed something about him and Lorelai, no matter how hard Chris had tried to hide it. She was a very perceptive woman. Chris sincerely hoped they could still be friends, even though he thought he might have ruined any chance of that. It seemed to be the story of his life: he never quite seemed to have the right instincts when it came to relationships.

Yet here he was, sitting by his telephone, hoping against past history that he was making the right decision when it came to Lorelai. Hanging around in the background for years had only caused him to lose Lorelai to other men; but being too forceful had led to a failed marriage. Somehow, Chris knew he had to strike a balance between being passive and proactive. Somehow he had to court Lorelai without falling letting his emotions run away with him and then ending up flat on his face. Lorelai always seemed to take control when it came to their relationship, and somehow Chris had to figure out a way to be the one who called the shots once in a while.

Lorelai answered after five rings, sounding out of breath.

"Hello."

"Hi. You're not training for the Boston Marathon, by any chance?"

"I was chasing the paperboy. If I don't get out there in time, he throws my paper in the garden and then I swear he steps on it to spite me."

"Quite the paper delivery service you've got in that town."

"I know, I'm thinking of getting Google Alerts. Skip the bad news and go straight to the entertainment section."

"Sounds like a plan."

"So what's new? How's Gigi?"

"Gigi is great. I've just been going through phone numbers trying to find a babysitter for Sunday night."

"Ah-ha, and my number just popped into your head."

"Well, Sunday nights are getting popular for people to go out. Babysitters are few and far between on Sunday nights."

"So what's Sunday night? Let me guess, you're taking Melanie to the Ritz because it's your one-month anniversary."

"Ah, no."

"The Mayflower Inn, and the two of you are going to wear period costume so you can tip your top hat to her and kiss her delicate hand."

"There's not going to be any top-hat-tipping."

"Oh, you're just going to the casino to win a million bucks so Melanie can give it all to charity."

"Lor, Melanie and I aren't together anymore."

"You're not?"

"No, we ah…we decided we were better friends."

"Oh. Okay. Um, just for peace of mind—did my mother's little speech in the gazebo contribute to that decision?"

"No."

"Okay, good, just checking. Because I mean, Chris, I'd never try to get between you and someone you wanted to date."

"I know you wouldn't."

"My mom was just being—"

"Your mother."

"Selfish and vindictive and convinced I'm about to commit a cardinal sin the minute she turns her back."

"She does have a way about her."

"So you and Melanie—that wasn't anything that anyone…"

"No, no, it wasn't really anything at all."

"Right. You're not just saying that and actually sitting there with a box of Kleenex and a bottle of aspirin, are you?"

"No, I think I'm gonna be all right."

"Okay, good, so I don't have to bring tequila with my Green Eggs and Ham when I come to babysit on Sunday night."

"Actually, I've got a babysitter lined up."

"Oh."

"Yeah, she's twelve years old, her name is Nan and she lives right across the road."

"A twelve year-old named Nan? You haven't been reading the Bobbsey Twins again, have you?"

"I assure you I have proof from her parents that not only is her name Nan, but she passed her babysitter's course with flying colours."

"So you do not need me to babysit."

"No, I've got that base covered."

"Okay."

"Actually, I was calling because I've got two tickets to a Police concert on Sunday night and I thought that on the off-chance that you were interested…"

"Chris."

"Yes?"

"This better not be a joke."

"You should see my straight face."

"Chris, nobody can get tickets to a Police Reunion concert! It's been sold out forever. Getting tickets to a Police concert is like trying to watch Snakes on a Plane after you hated it the first time, it gets harder and harder with time."

"Yet here I am with two tickets in my hand."

"I don't know what to say."

"Good. All you have to say is yes or no. Will you be ready to leave at five on Sunday night?"

There was an unusually long pause. Chris grinned, thinking he must have done something right, because leaving Lorelai at a loss for words was quite an accomplishment.

"Lorelai."

"Yes, I'll be there on Sunday and I'll be ready at five, and if you are leading me on, this is the cruelest hoax you have ever played on me and I will not forgive you."

"It's a date. I'll see you Sunday."

Chris hung up the phone. Lorelai's eyes were shining with excitement as she hung up the phone. Because of the Police concert, definitely.

But had Chris really said, "It's a date," before he hung up the phone?