"How the hell could you keep this from me, Richard?" Emily said, her voice still completely stunned. Her body, immobile on the chair where she had fallen when Lorelai had told them. She couldn't even look at her husband.
The hurt in her eyes. Emily teared up at the thought. Her anger was just covering for her pain.
When her husband didn't respond, she looked up at him, to find him sitting at his desk, his head in his hands.
"Richard." Emily demanded he at least give her the respect to look her in the eye.
He looked up, his eyes red from crying. He just shook his head. There are no words. Ever.
Suddenly the response that Lorelai had given her that day on the porch – Emily cringed at how absolutely insensitive she had been. But I didn't know.
Richard's voice startled her. "I didn't know how to tell you."
"With your words, Richard." Emily was angry. She had told her daughter off, she had been uncaring. She had wounded her child. "With the words you used to tell me that we need to find a new gardener, or that the Huntzbergers are having a dinner party next week – that's how you tell me."
She was standing in front of his desk. He just stared at her.
"I couldn't even go and see her. I didn't understand why she was so angry. When I asked you about it that night, you told me that she blamed us for the divorce. For the separation from Chris."
Reality hit her. "There was never a divorce, was there?"
"No." He cleared his throat. "I found him with her."
What? Her brain couldn't process all of this. "What does that even mean."
Richard took a deep breath. "He was keeping her there against her will." Emily cringed. "He was going to kill her."
Tears flowed down her face.
"We got there just in time."
Emily was confused. "Who?"
"Luke put the pieces together before I did." He told her. "We went over there, and found her…" He closed his eyes, as if he was seeing a horrible picture in his mind. "He had her tied to the bed."
Emily covered her mouth in absolute and utter heartbreak. "No."
Richard just continued. "She was tied there. She was barely breathing. She was bleeding. Blood was everywhere."
Oh, Lorelai. Emily grieved. Lorelai. I had just seen you that night. What if that was the last time I would have seen you? What if…
"He had something wrapped around her throat." Richard said. And then he looked up at her, meeting her eyes, "He had a knife. He was going to kill her."
The anger in his eyes was all too real. "I… shot Christopher."
She didn't know what to say. Her husband had known all of this, all of this about her daughter. All of this about what happened that night. He had shot someone for goodness sake – "and you didn't think to tell me?"
"He didn't die." He said, ignoring her question. "We met with the lawyer today."
Now she protested, "No, you can't just brush over the fact that you didn't tell me."
He looked so defeated. "Emily, I can't right now. I can't argue anymore."
And she only said two words, "You bastard."
And she left him there. Left him there with the alcohol. Left him there in the dark study. And she went to bed. She went to her bed and cried herself to sleep – wanting to help comfort her daughter, but knowing her daughter hated her. Knowing that she had pushed for them to be together. And knowing her daughter would never forgive her. And knowing her husband hadn't thought her important enough to tell these things to.