By the time Tristan came back, Rory had started to wish he wouldn't. She'd had far too much time to imagine what he was doing out there with Crystal, what he was saying to her, and she didn't want confirmation. If he was going to say things that would hurt, she'd really prefer to run and hide and pretend none of this had happened. He might let her this time. She thought she should turn the television on, or the radio, or just conjure up some dignity and leave, but she didn't move.

He came back alone. That was something. He looked upset, avoiding her eyes and wandering around behind her. It was worse waiting for him while he was with her; she couldn't take it for long.

"What did she say?"

The footsteps paused, and then he circled round to look at her. "She was upset." Mild, but still accusatory. Rory wanted to wince, she wanted to be as angry with Tristan as she had been with Crystal, but she couldn't manage it.

And where was Crystal anyway? Waiting for him, like Rory had? Lying on his bed, waiting for him to ditch the ex and come to her?

"Why was she upset?" The real question. "What did you say to her? Did you explain?"

"Explain what?"

"That's what I'd like to know." There was something to explain; he had to know that.

He threw himself into the chair across from her, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. "Don't you decide what this is, Rory? Haven't you been making that decision all along?"

And she would have liked to continue doing so. "I can't make you do anything you don't want to."

"Oh, you have. You're not even going to try now?"

"No. I want you to want—" Me. Too humiliating to say.

"Want what?"

"Tristan—" Was he trying to annoy her? It was working. She couldn't afford that. "What did you say to Crystal?"

"I apologised."

Her heart sank. He'd apologised for her, for whatever they were. Maybe asked forgiveness, maybe gotten it. "Oh."

"Why did you come here, Rory?"

There was no way to back out, and maybe she could still convince him. She had to make the attempt. "I told you. I want to try again."

"To try what again?"

"Us." She'd thought that was self-explanatory.

"There never was any us."

"Oh." That only hurt because it was true. Tristan was very skilled at wielding painful truths. "Well, then I wanted to change that."

"And what, exactly, would this involve?"

She hadn't thought she'd need to explain that, either. "Well, you. And me." She motioned vaguely with her hands. "Together."

"And it wouldn't involve Crystal."

"No."

"What about Jess?"

"Nope."

"What would you do about him?"

"I'd—" Wouldn't tell him, she couldn't tell him. "I'd break up with him. And then I'd be with you. And that would be the end of it. There's nothing he could do."

"Would you tell him what happened?"

She'd been hoping that wouldn't come up. "No."

"No."

"It would just hurt him. It wouldn't matter and it would just make him feel bad, and make me feel bad, and there's no point."

"It would make me feel better."

Was that a yes? "That's a reason. I suppose if you wanted, I could. But I'd really prefer not. But I would."

"If I made you."

"Are you going to?"

He shook his head, but she didn't think it was an answer. "Why are we still doing this?"

"Doing what?" She wasn't doing anything that she could help. She'd tried not to. She had tried.

"This is incredibly stupid. We can't keep doing this, Rory. We have to choose now. We can't keep ending up back here."

"I've chosen, Tristan." Now it was his turn, and she wished she'd made him go first.

"How do I know you won't change your mind the next time you see Jess? Or your mother. She doesn't know, does she?"

"No. I didn't want to tell her." Still didn't, didn't want Tristan to make her.

"But you would."

"I told my grandmother." He looked surprised, and she rushed on. "I thought it would be easier. I needed to tell somebody, and I care more about what my mother thinks about me—" Now she was apologising for him. Wonderful.

"What did she say?"

"She likes you. She doesn't know you, but she likes you anyway." Less nervous now, Rory still didn't want to expose her vulnerability. She had to. "She talked me into coming here tonight."

"You had to be talked into it."

"Yes. Well, no. I was scared. I wasn't sure how you'd react."

"How I'd react." An odd smile quirked Tristan's lips, and he ran a hand through his hair, looking up at her ruefully. "I think I'm taking this pretty well, don't you?"

"That depends. What did you say to Crystal?"

"I told you. I apologised, said I hadn't meant to hurt her, and sent her home. She went. So." He straightened, serious again, but she couldn't seem to pull herself back on track, dizzy with relief. "This Jess-dumping—"

"It wouldn't be a dumping—"

"How would it happen? You'd just waltz up, tell him to go fuck himself, and be on your merry way?"

"No!" She should have been outraged, but she could feel herself grinning. Asking for details was as good as acceptance. If she didn't screw it up in the next thirty seconds. "There have been problems, so he wouldn't suspect that—well, that there was a you. I'd probably want a few days. Just to work things down." She glanced at him, unsure if he'd care for that. It wouldn't matter if he didn't. She'd work around it. She felt glowy, wondered if she looked it.

"And then?"

"I'd tell him it wasn't working. And a few weeks later—"

"A few weeks?"

"If we jump right in I think he might catch on. He's not stupid."

"Weeks."

Rory didn't want to wait weeks. She didn't want to wait at all, especially when he was so close, when she could reach out and touch him, have him in her arms. She ached for that, had been missing it forever.

"Not many. One or two, maybe. That's weeks."

"And then we'd what, start dating?"

"Yes. That would work, don't you think? We could still see each other. We just shouldn't tell anybody at first." She could see him now, couldn't stop looking; and they could have each other now, if Tristan was willing.

"I don't trust you."

"What?" Rory came crashing back down to earth, completely shocked.

Tristan was shaking his head again, more in disbelief than in denial. "I don't know that you'll do this. I believed you before, and look how that turned out."

"But this would be different." That wasn't desperation in her voice. "That's the whole point. I know now, I know the mistakes I made, and I wouldn't do it again—"

"I know you think that. I know you mean it, Rory. I just don't know if you'll do it."

"I will."

"You're still not dealing with it. You are still pretending, trying to keep it a secret, and you can do that. But I don't know that it will work."

"It—" Might.

"I'm willing to try." She exhaled, slumping down in her chair. This was exhausting. How did her mother deal with all the drama all the time? Rory wanted off the roller-coaster. "A few days. If it gets to a week, it's off. If it's off, I'll patch things up with Crystal." He frowned at her. "I'm not mooning over you while you try to decide if you want me."

"I wouldn't expect you to. A week."

"Less than a week. The sooner the better."

"Got it."

She could see the attraction if the drama always had payoffs like this. She hesitated, and then moved over to sit beside Tristan. He drew back.

"We'll see how things go. Hopefully it'll work out like we've planned." He stood. "I think you should go."

He knew that she was disappointed; she didn't bother arguing. They walked to the door in silence. She watched him all the way, while he stared straight ahead, and she turned back once she was on the porch.

"I'll call you tomorrow. Maybe we could meet up."

For a moment there was nothing, and then he smiled. "Do."

She left the porch satisfied. She was giddy before she got to the car.