I Miss You
Chapter 19: (but) I Need You (to know)
***
She gingerly perches on the black Italian leather couch in the living room. She can't imagine anyone living in the cold expansive room; it reminds her more of a museum. She has never felt at ease in his house. Her gaze pans the room and her eyes absorb every detail. She looks for a remnant of herself, anything that would tell her that she has remained in his heart even now. But there is nothing.
She hears his steady footsteps enter the room. The unmistakable aroma of coffee accompanies him. As he passes the coffee table in front of her, he carefully sets a mug on a coaster and slides it toward her. She accepts it gratefully and wraps her chilled hands around the piping hot ceramic.
He seats himself on the matching couch across from her, his elbows resting on his knees, and waits for her to talk. His heart feels like it is going to explode in his chest, but his face remains impassive. He tries not to care that she is sitting across from him, or that she willingly sought him out so soon after her arrival home. But he can't help it. As pathetic as it sounds, the woman before him has been his whole world for the past five years, and he wouldn't want it any other way.
She blows a jet of cool air over the surface of the steaming liquid. She absently brings the rim of the mug to her lips and takes a small sip. She takes a big breath and exhales slowly, the breath of one who has traveled far and finally found home. Abruptly, she sits up and sets the mug on its coaster. The harsh clinking of ceramic on wood startles him as it echoes through the room. They both watch the almost full cup of liquid slosh back and forth against the inside of the mug, until it settles once again.
The reunion on his doorstep had been odd, to say the least. He had greeted her pleasantly, with no bitter words or reproach. But he had been guarded, almost distant. Hesitation had briefly flashed in his eyes when she asked if she could talk to him, but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. So here they are.
"So I've been thinking," she says suddenly.
"About?"
"Us. You and me."
"Ah. The Never-Ending Story." He raises an eyebrow.
"Good movie, better book," she counters.
"You know, I was almost impressed with the lack of babbling on your part, but behold, I was wrong."
"You should be used to being wrong by now," she smirks.
"Alas, even after all this time you're still a mystery to me. And I could never quite match wits with the master," he allows.
They can't help smiling.
He brings himself back to the present with a small shake of his head. It's too easy to fall into the same old patterns with her, he thinks.
She feels the moment pass as his smile fades. The good times had never been a problem with them; unfortunately, like all good things, they had never lasted long, and had always been followed by not-so-good times.
"So you've been thinking," he prompts.
"Right. That's me. Always thinking." She pauses, stalling for time.
"Rory, what are you doing here?" he asks quietly.
"What am I doing here," she repeats softly, speaking more to herself than to him. She raises her eyes to meet his. "Dean died last week," she says slowly.
"I know." He looks away. "I heard about it in the newspaper." His gaze swings back up to meet hers. "I'm sorry."
She plows ahead. The words fall from her lips in a hurried stream of words, running and tumbling over each other. "It just made me think, you know? About all the things that he did, but more about all the things he was never going to be able to do. And that got me thinking...if I were to die today, or tomorrow, or five years from now, what would be said about my life? Would I be satisfied with the way things are? I try not to put things off, to live every day like it's my last. And I have no regrets, except for one." She paused to take a breath.
His heart begins to accelerando. Is she finally admitting to herself what he had accepted long ago? He can't bring himself to take his eyes off of her.
"I love you. Despite everything that's happened, everything we've said and done to each other, I keep coming back to one thing that I know is true. I love you. I try not to. I try to tell myself that I'm being stupid and that I'm holding on to something that can never be. But I can't stop, because I know that I will never forgive myself if I don't try one more time to make things work."
Her cheeks flush with the frenzied outpouring of her words. She takes in his stunned expression. As she watches, the expression slowly evolves, turning first into amazement, then into complete and utter happiness. She lets out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.
"Rory," he begins. "This is huge. This is...wow." His smile, the one she has been missing for a long time, dazzles her. "I've been waiting for so long..."
Without realizing it, he has risen from his seat on the couch and steps over the coffee table separating them. He kneels in front of her and takes her hand in his. Wordlessly, he brings her hand to his lips and lays a soft kiss on her knuckles.
He rises from the floor and pulls her to his feet. "As happy as I am right now, there's still something I need to say."
A look of dread creeps into her eyes. As always, she waits for the other shoe to drop.
"Rory, I love you too. But we can't just jump into this. We've been through all of this before. What makes this time any different from the others?"
She holds his gaze steadily. "Maybe this time I've finally realized..." She untangles her hands from his and loops them around his neck lazily. "...that the one thing I've been searching for has been right in front of me the whole time."
"And this elusive thing is?"
"Certainty. As much as I loved you, even back then, I was never sure. I didn't have faith in us, and for that I'm sorry, because you knew from the very beginning what it has taken me five years to realize."
His face looks troubled. Even so, he pulls her closer to him and wraps his arms around her. As he holds her, the conflict disappears from his face. He bends his head and whispers in her ear. "Can we start over again?"
"What do you mean?" Her words are muffled against his shoulder.
"I think we both need to get to know each other. Become friends again. Not rush into anything."
She sighs. "I feel like we've wasted too much time already." She pulls herself even closer to him, wanting to bury herself inside of him.
"I know. I feel the same way." They begin to sway slowly, still wrapped in each other's arms, unconsciously dancing to a long forgotten song. "But this is the way it has to be for now. If we just jump right into it, it'll turn out badly. And I don't want to lose you again."
"So what are you saying?" She pulls back from him slightly, enough to raise her head and look at him. The swaying halts.
"I'm saying that I love you, and I need you in my life. But I can't be with you right now. And you can't be with me either."
"I know," she finally says. She hugs him to her one last time, then pulls away completely. The room feels colder than it did before. She grabs her coat and her keys and heads for the door.
He walks with her, and opens the door for her.
"Will you call me?" she asks.
"Tomorrow," he promises. "And the day after."
She smiles faintly. "I think I can live with that." She walks out of the door and pulls it shut behind her.
19/21
Um, I'm REALLY sorry. I didn't realize that it had been so long since my last update (about five months). Thanks to everyone who continued to review and nag me to finish. See? Reviewing DOES make a difference.
Chapter 19: (but) I Need You (to know)
***
She gingerly perches on the black Italian leather couch in the living room. She can't imagine anyone living in the cold expansive room; it reminds her more of a museum. She has never felt at ease in his house. Her gaze pans the room and her eyes absorb every detail. She looks for a remnant of herself, anything that would tell her that she has remained in his heart even now. But there is nothing.
She hears his steady footsteps enter the room. The unmistakable aroma of coffee accompanies him. As he passes the coffee table in front of her, he carefully sets a mug on a coaster and slides it toward her. She accepts it gratefully and wraps her chilled hands around the piping hot ceramic.
He seats himself on the matching couch across from her, his elbows resting on his knees, and waits for her to talk. His heart feels like it is going to explode in his chest, but his face remains impassive. He tries not to care that she is sitting across from him, or that she willingly sought him out so soon after her arrival home. But he can't help it. As pathetic as it sounds, the woman before him has been his whole world for the past five years, and he wouldn't want it any other way.
She blows a jet of cool air over the surface of the steaming liquid. She absently brings the rim of the mug to her lips and takes a small sip. She takes a big breath and exhales slowly, the breath of one who has traveled far and finally found home. Abruptly, she sits up and sets the mug on its coaster. The harsh clinking of ceramic on wood startles him as it echoes through the room. They both watch the almost full cup of liquid slosh back and forth against the inside of the mug, until it settles once again.
The reunion on his doorstep had been odd, to say the least. He had greeted her pleasantly, with no bitter words or reproach. But he had been guarded, almost distant. Hesitation had briefly flashed in his eyes when she asked if she could talk to him, but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. So here they are.
"So I've been thinking," she says suddenly.
"About?"
"Us. You and me."
"Ah. The Never-Ending Story." He raises an eyebrow.
"Good movie, better book," she counters.
"You know, I was almost impressed with the lack of babbling on your part, but behold, I was wrong."
"You should be used to being wrong by now," she smirks.
"Alas, even after all this time you're still a mystery to me. And I could never quite match wits with the master," he allows.
They can't help smiling.
He brings himself back to the present with a small shake of his head. It's too easy to fall into the same old patterns with her, he thinks.
She feels the moment pass as his smile fades. The good times had never been a problem with them; unfortunately, like all good things, they had never lasted long, and had always been followed by not-so-good times.
"So you've been thinking," he prompts.
"Right. That's me. Always thinking." She pauses, stalling for time.
"Rory, what are you doing here?" he asks quietly.
"What am I doing here," she repeats softly, speaking more to herself than to him. She raises her eyes to meet his. "Dean died last week," she says slowly.
"I know." He looks away. "I heard about it in the newspaper." His gaze swings back up to meet hers. "I'm sorry."
She plows ahead. The words fall from her lips in a hurried stream of words, running and tumbling over each other. "It just made me think, you know? About all the things that he did, but more about all the things he was never going to be able to do. And that got me thinking...if I were to die today, or tomorrow, or five years from now, what would be said about my life? Would I be satisfied with the way things are? I try not to put things off, to live every day like it's my last. And I have no regrets, except for one." She paused to take a breath.
His heart begins to accelerando. Is she finally admitting to herself what he had accepted long ago? He can't bring himself to take his eyes off of her.
"I love you. Despite everything that's happened, everything we've said and done to each other, I keep coming back to one thing that I know is true. I love you. I try not to. I try to tell myself that I'm being stupid and that I'm holding on to something that can never be. But I can't stop, because I know that I will never forgive myself if I don't try one more time to make things work."
Her cheeks flush with the frenzied outpouring of her words. She takes in his stunned expression. As she watches, the expression slowly evolves, turning first into amazement, then into complete and utter happiness. She lets out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.
"Rory," he begins. "This is huge. This is...wow." His smile, the one she has been missing for a long time, dazzles her. "I've been waiting for so long..."
Without realizing it, he has risen from his seat on the couch and steps over the coffee table separating them. He kneels in front of her and takes her hand in his. Wordlessly, he brings her hand to his lips and lays a soft kiss on her knuckles.
He rises from the floor and pulls her to his feet. "As happy as I am right now, there's still something I need to say."
A look of dread creeps into her eyes. As always, she waits for the other shoe to drop.
"Rory, I love you too. But we can't just jump into this. We've been through all of this before. What makes this time any different from the others?"
She holds his gaze steadily. "Maybe this time I've finally realized..." She untangles her hands from his and loops them around his neck lazily. "...that the one thing I've been searching for has been right in front of me the whole time."
"And this elusive thing is?"
"Certainty. As much as I loved you, even back then, I was never sure. I didn't have faith in us, and for that I'm sorry, because you knew from the very beginning what it has taken me five years to realize."
His face looks troubled. Even so, he pulls her closer to him and wraps his arms around her. As he holds her, the conflict disappears from his face. He bends his head and whispers in her ear. "Can we start over again?"
"What do you mean?" Her words are muffled against his shoulder.
"I think we both need to get to know each other. Become friends again. Not rush into anything."
She sighs. "I feel like we've wasted too much time already." She pulls herself even closer to him, wanting to bury herself inside of him.
"I know. I feel the same way." They begin to sway slowly, still wrapped in each other's arms, unconsciously dancing to a long forgotten song. "But this is the way it has to be for now. If we just jump right into it, it'll turn out badly. And I don't want to lose you again."
"So what are you saying?" She pulls back from him slightly, enough to raise her head and look at him. The swaying halts.
"I'm saying that I love you, and I need you in my life. But I can't be with you right now. And you can't be with me either."
"I know," she finally says. She hugs him to her one last time, then pulls away completely. The room feels colder than it did before. She grabs her coat and her keys and heads for the door.
He walks with her, and opens the door for her.
"Will you call me?" she asks.
"Tomorrow," he promises. "And the day after."
She smiles faintly. "I think I can live with that." She walks out of the door and pulls it shut behind her.
19/21
Um, I'm REALLY sorry. I didn't realize that it had been so long since my last update (about five months). Thanks to everyone who continued to review and nag me to finish. See? Reviewing DOES make a difference.