A/N: Becka and Marissa's fault. Thanks to Marissa for serving as a flattering and helpful beta. One guess as to what the italics mean. By the way, one chapter remains after this one.
Chapter FiveHe woke up alone. The sheets on Rory's side of the bed had been pulled tight, her pillow fluffed and laid neatly beside his. He stretched across the mattress and grabbed the alarm, finding it had been set for six, an hour earlier than usual. He threw the clock and rolled over, covering his head with a pillow. He heard the cheap plastic of the alarm crack; pieces scatter across the hardwood floor. He took a deep breath, chocking on the scent of regret and Rory's perfume.
-
"Can we - ""No."
"But I - "
"No."
"But we really - "
"Don't do it, Rory."
Jess watched as her hand crept closer and closer to the blue cardboard box that he now considered enemy number one. There was no way he was going home with a plastic clock that played so-called 'rushing meadows' that sounded like a toilet flushing. That wasn't going to put him to sleep, and a rooster crowing sure as hell wasn't going to wake him up. He wanted cheap, simple, but useful. He should have made Rory wait in the car.
"You won't let me decorate."
"Right now, food is considered a luxury and you want to decorate?" he asked incredulously. He had a list in his hands, one he had written himself even as Rory sat next to him, asking if she could, please, add a thing or two.
"Just this one indulgence. Please."
"Rory - "
"Please." She had the familiar pout on her face; it made her look much younger than she was; like a desperate little kid begging for permission. When he let out a sigh, she smiled at him, a rare sight since she had arrived in New York. He couldn't help but think he'd do anything to keep that smile in place; her happiness a sure thing.
"Put it in the basket."
"Yes!" Her hands shot into the air as she did a victory dance around the cart. She jumped on him, throwing her arms around his neck.
"But no dinner tonight," he teased.
"It was worth it."
-
The day passed in a vacuum empty of sound and time. He did the dishes in the sink, left over from Lorelai's lunch the day before, and Rory's solitary dinner. He sorted the laundry but left it sitting in baskets, unable to bring himself to leave the apartment. He thought – what if she came home and he missed her? What if she was out, cooling her heels, and all of this meant nothing? In his mind, he could picture her arriving home with a forlorn smile, crying into his shoulder as she asked if they could be alright now.
He would say yes.
But the hours didn't seem to pass, and the city remained mute outside the windows, leaving Jess in silent isolation. The sun rose higher in the sky, marking noon, before drifting off toward the horizon. Jess showered and dressed; stared at the blank television screen, ran his fingers across the titles of books without ever picking one up.
He wondered if this was it; how it ended. A rocky relationship snapping in two like a sinking ship, each half sinking quietly below the surface without causing so much as a ripple. She would never call, but send movers to take care of her stuff; a couple of guys packing up memories of her into little cardboard boxes without any idea as to what they were destroying. They'd drop her books, crack her pictures, and within a couple of hours, she would be gone.
He thought maybe he deserved this after what he did. He had taught her how to disappear by doing it to her; it made sense that she would do the same.
-
At a noise from the kitchen, he stirred, his eyes fluttering open. The room was dark and blanketed in a thick fog as he blinked, trying to clear the sleep from his vision. A laugh from outside the open door caught his attention as he sat up in bed. A second later, Rory tiptoed in, a pint of ice cream in her hands.
She let out a squeak. "Oh!" She held the container to her chest, looking ashamed. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"
He nodded gravely. "Yep. Too much noise."
She frowned. "I didn't mean to."
"S'okay."
The light from the kitchen spilled in around her. He thought she glowed. "Would you get in here?" he said.
She smiled and jumped onto the bed, scrambling into his lap. Once she was settled, she ripped off the top of her pint and dug in. "Want some?" she offered, the spoon stuck in her mouth.
"Nah." He grasped her hips, running his hands down her thighs. "What are you doing up?"
"Couldn't sleep," she answered, taking another bite. "Figured I'd raid the fridge." She leaned her forehead against his, a mock serious look on her face. "Since when do we have ice cream?"
"Since I picked it up after work."
"You truly know the way to a girl's heart." She grinned, batting her eyelashes at him. He shook his head, his arms encircling her waist.
"Are you sure you don't want some?" she asked again, his lips a breath away from hers.
He kissed the side of her mouth, a hand trailing up her back. She felt the tip of his tongue against her skin, tasting the spot of ice cream she had gotten on her cheek.
"Not bad," he decided, settling back against the pillows.
She ate another spoonful, and gave him a secret smile. "Thanks for picking it up."
He shrugged. "It was nothing."
"I like it when you do this," she said, staring at him thoughtfully. "These little things. They're like reminders that you think of me – of us." She bit her lip. "Do you understand?"
He knew what she meant. All it took were these small gestures to show that he meant everything he had told her over the past month; that he was in this for the long haul; he was thinking of her.
"I love you," he told her, feeling funny. The room swayed around him, black shadows overlapping the light from the door. He touched her arm, forgetting she was real.
"I love you, too."
-She came back late, sometime after ten. When she entered the apartment, it looked bleak. She thought: is this where I've been living all summer?
Jess came out of the bedroom without a glance her way. He went over to the cabinets and began to root through them, looking for something that wasn't there.
"I'm sorry."
He didn't say anything, but he heard the words, the delicate form they had taken, leaving her mouth. He thought about how nice it was to kiss her when she said soft words just like those.
"My grandfather asked if I would come down to visit. He asked last night, when he called. I told him I would call him back. But then I decided I should just go down, hear what he had to say. I surprised him by showing up today." She didn't say how he had smiled when the maid led her in. That even as he reprimanded her for her immaturity, she had recognized his excitement that she was back.
"Jess, I'm really sorry I didn't say anything to you. I almost called you today while I was there. I had the half the numbers dialed before I remembered our phone was dead. I think - " She sniffled, close to tears. Her throat stung from trying to hold them back. "I think I was trying to hurt you."
He had his hands in front of him, resting on the counter. He refused to turn around. Rory sat on the couch, her back to his. She continued.
"My grandparents said that what I did was very stupid and irresponsible. They said I was wrong to just disappear without any notice and stay gone even after I found out how angry everyone was." She took a deep breath, staring blankly at the wall. Jess turned and took a few steps toward her. He knew she was crying. He wanted to touch her shoulder and apologize too; he knew that today must have been awful for her. "But they also said that everyone makes mistakes and they refuse to compromise my future for one error in judgment."
Jess froze, knowing that he was the error here; the miscalculation.
"I can go back to Yale if I want. They already sent in the money, reserved me a spot. It's not too late to register for classes."
He leaned against the wall only inches away from where she sat. He thought about closing the gap and sitting beside her, ending this feud.
"I said yes," she confessed, her breathing ragged.
Jess stumbled backwards as if pushed, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. He shook his head as she stood up and turned to see him.
"My grandfather said that everything goes back to the way it was. Friday night dinners are reinstated. I have to leave tomorrow."
"You should leave now."
"But I have another night," she said, her eyes pleading.
"You don't have to pretend anymore, Rory. You're going back. Why prolong it?"
She grimaced at his tone, his words. "I wasn't pretending, and you know that. You know how much this summer meant to me."
"I think you should go back tonight," he repeated.
She stared at him a moment longer, a look of plea on her face. She had run out of things to say, reassuring promises, apologies, three small words. There was nothing left to tell him, ask of him. This was it. The end.
"I'll be back for my stuff."
-
She was pinned under him as he kissed her neck, his hips burning against hers. She giggled as he nipped her ear, bit her skin. She curled a leg over his and closed her eyes, letting herself be taken over by him. They lay on the living room floor, the sofa on one side, the television on the other. Somewhere in the background, the news was on, the weatherman predicting there was going to be rain.
"Jess." He pushed her skirt up and she said his name again, soft and quick; easy as taking a breath. He kissed her mouth, her jaw, her shoulder. She exhaled: Jess
He combed his fingers through her hair, watching her face; she had her eyes squeezed shut. She had thought it was funny when he suggested breaking in the apartment like two newlyweds stuck in the honeymoon stage. She had used the word lovebirds, cooing at him as she said it. She had batted her eyelashes, crawling across his lap until he had pulled her onto the floor. Now she was quiet and serious; maybe a little bit lost.
"Rory," he said into her ear. He was worried she was floundering beneath him, losing herself to something bad. Did she feel stupid right now? Guilty? Naïve? What was going on behind her closed eyes, playing across the movie screen in her head? "Rory," he said again.
She tugged on his shirt, staring up at him. "Jess." She was whispering now, smiling. "Hi."
Affectionately, he kissed the tip of her nose. "Hi."
-
Jess didn't sleep that night. He didn't sleep the next night either, not after he received a message from work. Rory had called to say she would be back Saturday to pick up her stuff. She wanted to move out as fast as she could. She wanted to be done with this.
Jess spent his sleepless nights thinking about her, even though he didn't want to. It was hard not to when he laid in the bed they had shared, staring up at a blank ceiling that held no answers. She was the only thought that surfaced inside his head.
He wanted to feel betrayed, and blame this all on her. But logic told him that there was no other way; if she had stayed, the love would have faded fast, replaced by that bitter kind of hate that accompanied regret. It was the type that blossomed out of lost opportunities and blacked out dreams. This way, it had ended quietly with hushed, angry words that would soon be forgotten.
The memories would remain though. He wouldn't be able to stay here.
She had ruined the apartment, and the city.
Darkly, he thought maybe she had ruined him.
-
She arrived early on Saturday – earlier than she had said she would. When she trudged down the hall and let herself in, Jess was still there.
"Hi," she said.
"You're not supposed to be here for another hour."
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to get this over with."
Without waiting for a reply, she went into the bedroom where she found all her belongings in boxes. Even the bookshelf had been cleared of her collection. It looked so empty now; half full. Tears stung her eyes as she searched the room, desperately needing something to pack. She was supposed to do this! She hadn't wanted it all gone so quickly; wasn't she supposed to get a few minutes of nostalgia as she packed her life away?
She headed back into the living room, wanting to yell at him. She wanted to scream and tell him every horrible thought she had ever had of him; show him that he was the bad one here. He was the one who had messed up, and she was only trying to save herself. But it all sounded like bullshit in her head, and she knew it was. So instead she said his name. Just once. Then she waited.
He stared back at her, waiting too.
"Can it not end like this? I never wanted it to get like this, like it was before. I want us to be okay."
He stood up, wandering if she should give her this. He needed it too.
"We both knew that this would never work."
"Why wouldn't it?" he asked. "Because I wasn't Dean? Because your grandparents don't like me?"
"Are you serious?" She shook her head, looking puzzled. "Don't bring Dean or my grandparents into this," she warned. "This is about you and me – "
"No, it's not. It has never been about just you and me. Why do you think I wanted to leave, Rory?"
Her shoulders sagged. She looked desperate. "I don't understand."
"Our relationship has always been about something or someone else. Dean, your mother, your grandparents, school, work…" He ticked each item off on his fingers. "This why we didn't work in Stars Hollow, why we wouldn't work in New Haven. This is why I brought you here and that's why you came with me. You know this, Rory. You know why we left."
"Jess…"
"As soon as one person got back in that was it. You're gone."
"No!" She wanted to stomp her foot. "This is about you and me. We don't work. We never will. It's always okay for a little while but then – "
"Then real life gets back in the way," he finished for her. He had been trying so hard to keep it out: the bills, the stress of work, of providing for her. But it had leaked in, ruining their snowglobe romance. They worked fine by themselves; it was everything else that got in the way.
"This is real life, Jess. We are real life! You just can't accept the fact that both of us screw up. You hurt me, and I hurt you."
"You're the one leaving this time, Rory. You're the one who's screwing up."
She ran an exasperated hand through her hair. This was killing her; she was sure of it. "Don't do that. Do not put this all on me. I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."
He looked away, staring hard at the wall.
"Sometimes I hate you," she said. "I hate you so much for making me feel so awful. You wanted me to choose between you and Yale, right? You and the rest of my life?" She waited for an answer, but he wouldn't even look at her. She went on, speaking in a low, even tone. "Well, I'm choosing my future. A future without you. You're not worth throwing everything away for."
A moment passed, a prolonged pause that she felt press against her body. "I'll help you bring your stuff down," he finally said, sweeping past her into the bedroom. She stared at the place where he had stood, remembering the hardened look on his face. It was then that she realized something terrible. It was amazing how deep one thought can penetrate; make her bleed from the inside out.
After today, she was never going to see him again.