Truth?

Rory stood on the ledge of the cliff and stared down at the water below. The waves were calm and soothing. It was the exact spot that she had let his ashes float into the Atlantic.

"Hey Tristan. It's me Rory."

She paused, almost as if waiting for him to answer. She knew he wouldn't. She'd come to this beach 5 times a year, on his birthday, her birthday, Valentine's Day, Christmas and their anniversary. For 2 years, he never answered her once.

"I came to say goodbye. I got a job in California. The Los Angeles Times. I hit the big time Tris." Rory felt tears filling up her eyes. She tried to push them back. She needed to be strong. "I... I'm gonna miss you."

With that, she drove home and finished packing. She was on the plane the next morning.

***

Rory sat in the Starbucks and read one of her recent articles in the paper. She had been in Los Angeles for 3 months and already had big stories. They weren't front page, but they were pretty important pieces. She just wished Tristan was there to congratulate her.

She looked around and sipped her coffee. There were 3 other people besides her. Not many people drank coffee at 11 PM. There was a young couple that looked around 18. She almost cried. It reminded her so much of her and Tristan. There was another man alone in the corner reading a newspaper. He smiled at something he read. She couldn't help but stare at him. He had dark brown hair and what looked liked green eyes but somehow, she reminded her of Tristan.

She continued to stare, wondering why he looked so much like Tristan when he looked up at her. Their eyes met. Something in his eyes felt so familiar, so Tristan.

What if... no it couldn't be him. Tristan is dead Rory, get over it. HE'S DEAD!

Suddenly, tears filled her eyes. They started to fall before she knew it. She stood up and ran out the door.

Rory sat down in the parking lot and leaned against her car. Her face was in her hands as she cried. She hadn't cried so much since she found out that Tristan had died. Rory didn't care if she was in public, the tears wouldn't stop.

"Um miss, are you okay?" Startled, Rory looked up to see the man from Starbucks.

She wiped her face and cleared her throat. "Yeah." She said, standing up and unlocking her car door.

"It wasn't me was it?" His voice sounded so much like Tristan, it hurt to listen.

"No. It wasn't. Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be." She said, opening her door.

She sat down and was about to close her door when the man stopped her. Fear filled Rory. How could she even start talking to the stranger. It was 11 PM and a strange man just approached her. There was only one thing she could do. She pulled out the mace that she kept in her glove compartment and held it up in front of his face.

"Don't make me use this!"

The man quickly lifted up his hands in surrender and backed up. Tris used to do that. Stop thinking that right now Rory! This man's trying to rape you.

"WHOA! I'm sorry."

"Sorry?! Do rapists say that?"

His eyes grew big. "RAPIST?! NO NO NO!!! You don't understand!!!" The man stammered, trying to explain. "I saw you inside and I couldn't help seeing how beautiful you were and when you ran out crying I thought I did something wrong so I came out to apologize and maybe ask you out and I never meant to hurt you or rape you or anything I promise." The man took a deep breath.

"Ask me out?" Rory stared in surprise.

"Well, yeah. I'd ask you to coffee, but I guess you've had enough of that."

"Enough coffee?! Never!"

"So is that a date?"

"I never refuse coffee." Rory said, getting out of her car.

She held out her hand. "Rory Gilmore."

"The reporter?!" The man said in amazement.

"Yeah?"

"Wow, I love your work. I was just reading one of your articles inside."

"Never met a fan before."

"More than a fan." He held out his hand. "Trevor Desmond."