Another Year, Another Milestone

Author: Knowhere

Rating: Pg-13

Disclaimer: Nothing

AN:  I explored a new genre today, and I hope that I've achieved what I set out to do.

Summary:  On this day Jess retraces his tradition and reminisces about the life he shared with her, his beautiful and perfect—Rory.  Future Literati.  AU-ish.

            He laid there in bed with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling with his mind wandering.  He hated today.  He hated the memories.  He hated the feeling.  And yet, he loved today, he loved the memories, and he loved the feeling.  He just couldn't decide.  Pulling the covers off of his body, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and just sat there in the darkness.  He knew that the daylight would be arriving soon and ever since five years ago, he always started this day before the sun.  His jaw clenched and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat because he had promised that he wouldn't cry.  He had promised her that he wouldn't think of anything but the good times that they shared on this day.  He had promised that he wouldn't look back and regret.

            Silently pulling on a faded pair of jeans and a black sweatshirt he walked over to the kitchen and he sat there at the dining table.  He turned and stared at the coffee maker with the little red light that soon promised that rich aroma.  He watched as the digital clock on the maker turned to 5:55 and he still watched as the coffee began dripping down.  It had always been set for 5:55.  He never got up so early and he never needed the coffee at 5:55—and he still doesn't.  But everyday, the coffee brews at 5:55 and finishes just after 6:05.  This has become the first of many traditions that he does on this day.  On any other day, he would just let it brew and he would sleep right through it, like he used to.  He wouldn't get up and pour himself a cup until 6:35; but on this day, he always made sure that he watched the coffee brew; drip after drip until it finally finished.

Flashback.

            It was a Saturday at 6:00 in the morning.  She climbed out of bed and slipped on her bathrobe and sauntered her way into the kitchen.  Impatiently waiting for the coffee, she kept herself occupied by reading the morning paper.  She was always a morning person and she just couldn't shake that habit.  The coffee finally stopped brewing and she took out her favorite mug and poured herself a cup of black coffee. She never bothered with cream or sugar because she always believed that in the mornings, you should savor the coffee in its pure and natural form.  The winter season made it still dark outside and she clicked on the little light that illuminated the dining area.  With her coffee and paper ready, she began to read about the weekend news.  The door creaked and she turned in the direction of the noise.  He smiled softly and walked on over and took a seat beside her.

She was surprised to see him at such an early hour. "What are you doing up?"

            "I missed you in bed."

            She giggled and slid over and onto his lap, still with her coffee in her hand.  She leaned down to kiss him softly but when she began to pull back, his arms held her in place and he slowly deepened their kiss.  "Um…you really did miss me."  She smiled brightly and her blue eyes shone in the dim light.

            "Why did you leave?  It's six o'clock on a Saturday, Rory."  His eyes squinted and his eyebrows furrowed—he never understood her early habits.  He was a night owl and he had a hard time adjusting to her early wake ups.

            "Oh, come on Jess.  We'll miss practically the whole morning by the time you get up, besides the coffee is already made."

            "Well then why don't you set the coffee maker for a later time?  Think of what we can do if we were still in bed."  He smirked at her and she blushed, fully knowing what he implied.  Grinning, he took her hand and led her back to bed…

End of flashback.

            He poured himself a cup and didn't bother with the cream or the sugar.  He no longer drank his coffee with them; he only drank it black.  She had always urged him to try it like that.  The morning paper sat motionless on the table, and he didn't make any effort to open it.  He was still thinking.  And today he would do everything the same, just like he does every year on this day.

            The sun was slowly peeking through the shutters and he knew that it was time to leave the apartment.  He finished his coffee but left the rest in the pot; just letting it set, leaving it for no one.  He knew that he would have to come back to dump it anyways, but he always left it until later; just like he used to.  He grabbed his wallet and keys and silently locked the door behind him.  The elevator seemed particularly slow today but he didn't mind.  He had all day to do what he had to do.  He never worked on this day—it was just a day that was left to him and his memories.

            The door to the apartment building was opened, and the rush of cold air comforted him.  He turned right at the corner and started his walk that always led him nowhere.  He didn't have a particular destination except for the one in his memories.  He didn't care where his legs took him as long as he could reminisce.  The days were getting colder now, and he knew that it would snow soon.  He always liked the winter season much more than the summer, even before he met her.  But it was her passion for the snow that made him love the season even more.  Maybe it was because she loved playing in the snow, or maybe it was because the snow made her more playful.  Although the snow had many memories for him, he knew that the reason for his love of it was because it had been snowing the first time he made love to her.

Flashback.

            Clothes littered the small space of the room and they were lying down together on the bed.  Both were completely naked under the light sheet that covered them, but they never felt more comfortable.   They faced each other and her hand wandered over to his shoulder.  She ran her fingers up to his neck and through his hair as he just smiled softly at her delicate actions.  He trailed a palm up to her cheek to kiss her gently on her lips.  "You okay?"  His voice held so many emotions.  He had wanted this night to be special, especially for her because they had waited so long for the right time.  It was everything he dreamed of and more just because he loved her so much. 

            "Yeah, I'm fine."  Her eyelids were heavy with exhaustion and he smirked because he was the reason she was so tired.  She scooted closer to him and kissed him softly on the lips.  She tugged slightly at his bottom lip and he opened up to her, both literally and metaphorically.   He reached out and wrapped his arms around her shoulder and back, pulling her close to his body.  They were so close that they couldn't tell where one began and the other ended.  Their legs were tangled up with each others as well as in the sheets and she shivered at the intensity of the kiss.  He grabbed the comforter and pulled it over their bodies and he continued to kiss her, showing her everything that he didn't know how to say with words. 

            The snow was still falling outside, creating a blanket of white, while they continued into the morning.  A while later, she gripped his hands and he lifted her up so that their chests touched, and she whispered in his ear, "I love you Jess."

End of flashback.  

            He always loved that memory.  He loved the simple fact that he was her first and her last.  She gave completely into him and he did he same for her.  She was able to open up something that he thought was locked forever.  He wandered around the city, looking at nothing at particular.  Even though he loved thinking about that night, he always grimaced at the thought on this day.  He never felt like it was right for him to feel such emptiness, but he just couldn't help but feel the hole that was pounding in his heart.  He could feel the tears that became hot in his throat; he felt them pushing their boundaries.  He never allowed himself to cry—never on this day; but he could never stop himself from wanting to break down.

            The cold was creeping into his bones and he felt like he needed to sit.  Turning the corner once again he spied the diner that he had frequented over the years.  He didn't want to go in because it was their special place to eat, but he didn't have the power to break his tradition—so he lifted his hand and pushed on the door. 

            The owner knew him by name and he knew that this day was hard for his friend.  He placed a cup of coffee in front of him and left him alone.  There he sat, for ten minutes at first, and then it became an hour.  He always sat there for an hour.  It was the perfect time.  Not too long, but just long enough.  He turned around and saw a couple in the corner—cozy and content just in each other's arms.  His eyes narrowed and he forced himself to look away; but he just couldn't help one last glance.  The young woman had a ring on her finger and the man played with her hands as she giggled at something he said.

Flashback.

            They slowly swayed to the music that they barely heard.  They could only concentrate on each other.  He never considered himself a dancing person, but he had asked her to dance with him.  She pushed herself closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.  "Thank you."

            "For what, Ror?"

            "For this dance.  I know that you don't like to dance, but you're still here."

            He looked down at her and smiled.  He glanced at their hands, entwined, and he brought them to rest on his chest.  The ring was delicately resting on her finger and he never felt so much love for her.  He tenderly twisted the ring that he had only placed on her hours before.  Bringing her hand to his mouth, he kissed the symbol of their vows. They continued to sway to the music—lost in their world.  Finally, he broke their silence.  "I always knew we would end up here."

            "Is Jess Mariano getting all soft on me?"  She teased him lightly but she was elated to hear that he always felt that they were made for each other.  She always knew that she would marry him but she was also afraid that his free-spirited personality would never settle down.  She was happy to be wrong. 

            "Rory, I love you."

            "I love you too, Jess."

End of flashback.

            He loved playing with her ring.  Not only did it serve to proclaim his love for her, but it was also a symbol that she belonged to him.  He was never the over-protective type, but he loved how she was his.  He felt that his time in the diner was over and he reached into his wallet and pulled out a couple of bills.  He silently left them on the table and departed without another glance. 

            He continued his trek through the city and felt like the world was closing in on him.  He couldn't stand it—the feeling was suffocating him.  He was drowning and he didn't know how to breathe.  It was the same feeling that haunted him still.  He couldn't breathe and any deep breath only served to hurt him more.  He wanted release from the pain he felt but he knew that he couldn't escape it.  The pain gripped at his chest and it almost made him stop to cry out, but he didn't.  He just endured the pain because he couldn't remember her without it, and so he didn't try to stop because he didn't want to forget her.

            The bench at the park was waiting for him.  It always waited for him on this day.  It was his bench and it was as if everybody knew it too.  It was always empty, waiting—just like how he was.  He sat down and leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees.  Slowly beginning at his shoes, his stare wandered up to the jungle gym that was just a couple feet away.

Flashback.

            "Daddy look at me!  Look at what I can do!"  Emily was swinging back and forth on the monkey bars. 

            "Wow Em…look at you.  You're so far up."  He smiled broadly at his daughter.  She was so beautiful—just like her mother.  She had dark brown hair and bright blue eyes that shone just like Rory's.  Emily was tall for her age and she loved to read—just like her parents.  Jess went over to his daughter and watched as she swung back and forth.

            "Catch me Daddy."  Emily launched herself into Jess's arms and he absorbed her impact as she giggled all the way.

            Rory walked up behind them with a sweater in her hands.  "Here Emily, put this on.  It's getting kinda chilly out here."  She handed it to Jess and he helped the little girl into the sweater, pulling the sleeves back so that they wouldn't get dirty.  "Jess, could you grab her hat too?  I left it over on the bench."

            "Yeah."  Rory was about to turn back to her daughter, but Jess suddenly grabbed her and kissed her.  They stayed like that for a minute, just enjoying each other until their daughter yelled once again for them to watch.

            "What was that for?"  Rory had a bemused smile on her face and she seemed somewhat dazed after that burst of passion from Jess.

            He shrugged and returned to his usual flirtatious smirk. "Just wanted to kiss my wife."

            "Just go get the hat from the bench, would ya?"  She smiled and could barely contain her laughter at her husband.  Even after all those years, she still couldn't seem to really understand all the layers that he had.  She watched with a smile on her face as he turned to get the hat.  When he unexpectedly turned around and gave her a wink she blushed, knowing exactly what he was thinking about.

End of flashback.

            He closed his eyes; he could almost hear Emily call out his name.  He could almost see Rory smile at him.  He leaned back and rested his right arm across the bench.  He knew that Emily would call today to talk to him, to see if he was okay.  It always wounded him to see her now.  She had grown up to become a beautiful woman of forty.  She became independent and no longer required his arms to absorb her impact, but she still called him daddy with the same voice that only belonged to his little girl.  He loved his daughter with all his heart, and was amazingly surprised at how she could open him up; but now it pained him to see her, to talk to her.  She looked too much like Rory, she sounded too much like Rory, and she acted too much like Rory.

            He had remembered all he needed to at the park and he wanted to leave; and so he did.  He left the park and he left that memory.  He left it to be remembered some other time.  The day was beginning to end and so was his trip with his memories.  He needed to finish the day in the comfort of his apartment.  The hardest memories were coming up and he required the silence of his home to relive them. 

            The bench was empty once again, and he left the block and he embarked on the journey back home.  He shoved his hands in his pockets and left them there to warm up.  His fingers were cold but he couldn't feel their lack of warmth.  He could barely feel anything else but the ache that began to sear throughout his entire being.  He didn't think he would make it back home, but he tried to remain strong.  He wanted to collapse in the emptiness of his own home.

            He watched as his hands drew out a key and unlocked the door, but he didn't even feel his arms move.  It was like they were moving on their own.  He slipped off his boots and contemplated on whether or not he should sit down on the couch.  It was a loveseat but it now only held one.  He decided to go to the bedroom instead.  The king-sized bed called to him.  He had thought many times to get rid of it because it was too big for just one, but then he could never bring himself to actually do it.  They had fallen asleep, watched TV, cuddled, and made love too many times on that bed for him to leave it.  So he left it there in the room.  He left it there for memories.  He sat down and looked out the window.  The glass begun to frost over and he reached out to touch it.  It felt so strong and yet he knew that it could shatter with one false move.  It was just like her.

Flashback.

            She watched him with weary eyes.  He reached out and took her hand gently into his.  She wanted to cry but knew that she had already cried enough for a lifetime.  She took several deep breaths to calm herself; she needed to be strong for him.  He didn't look up at her in fear that he would break down.  But it was too late.  He twisted her wedding ring and soaked her skin with his tears.  He wanted to say so much, to feel so much, to love so much—but here in the hospital room, he just didn't know what to do.  There she was—his Rory, his beautiful and perfect Rory; lying there, unable to become vibrant once again.  He wondered why she had to be the first to leave.  He wondered why this had to happen just one week after their anniversary.   He wanted her to live longer than him because she deserved so much more. 

She took his chin and lifted his head up to look at her.  "Jess, promise me that you won't cry anymore.  I don't want you to live in heart ache.  We've done so much with our lives.  I got to spend it with you and that's all I care about.  Look at me Jess."

            With everything that he had left, he stared straight into her still very blue eyes.  He never broke the contact as she continued.  "Promise me that years from now, you'll still celebrate our anniversary.  Think about all the good times we shared.  Don't think about today."

            He couldn't help it.  The tears flooded out of his eyes and onto her.  His chest constricted at the thought that she would leave him soon.  The thought that they had spent their lives together comforted him, but it wasn't enough.  He wanted more.  He wanted his Rory to live another sixty-two years.  He wanted to spend another lifetime with her.  He leaned down and gently kissed her on the lips.  He stayed like that for as long as he could.

End of flashback.

            He couldn't keep his promise anymore.  The tears rolled down his cheeks and gathered at his feet.  Then he cried in earnest for the time that they lost—for the many memories that they could have made together.  In the midst of his grieving, he gained a small amount of relief.  He knew that they were extremely lucky to have had each other, to have been able to hold and love each other for as long as they did.  He had been able to be a part of her life.  He had been able to make love to her; to open up a world that no one else showed her except for him.  He had been able to commit his life to her with marriage.  He had been able to have a beautiful daughter with her.  And he had been able to see life with her until the very last moment.

            The tears had dried and he still sat with his gaze locked on the sky.  The moon was high in the sky now and night fell upon him.  He had lived through another anniversary without her.  He would always love her and think of her, but today he achieved what he set out to.  He relived their live together; he went through every memory that they shared.

            He climbed into bed and turned off the light.  He tenderly fingered his simple white gold wedding band that matched hers, and promised that he would remember all over again next year.  Another year marked another milestone.  Fatigue tugged at his body and his muscles relaxed as he closed his eyes and muttered the words that he said every night, "I love you Rory."

AN: This was the easiest, and at the same time, the hardest story I've done.  In its own special way, this might be the coolest thing I've written.  Leave me your thoughts, feelings, and/or remarks.