A/N: Holy hell! Laura Mariano! I'm so happy to hear from you again. Also, Robin, you managed to quote one of my all time favorite Neruda poems. You're wonderful. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
Chapter Fourteen: You are so fragile and thin, standing trail for your sins
He hates her.
He hates the sound of her voice, sweet and naïve and calculating. He hates the way she drapes her legs across his lap as they watch movies together on lazy Saturday nights. He hates her eyes, the lustful shade of blue as he hovers over her and her lips part and she begs him to touch her.
He hates her pretty little lies, when she says that she loves him, that she needs him. None of it means anything.
Two weeks pass without one word from her. No calls or visits; no explanations for why she suddenly decided he wasn't worth it.
He doesn't care though; not one fucking bit. Not even when he winds the phone cord around his fingers, pulling tighter and tighter until his skin is white because it's not her on the other end. It never is.
>
Some inexplicable force knocks the sleep from her and she sits up in bed. Blake stirs beside her, but does not wake. She looks over at him, feeling her mind float away from her body as tiny colored dots explode in front of her eyes. She almost wakes him in a desperate need for an anchor, but she jumps up instead, and locks herself in the bathroom.
The light is harsh and white. She stumbles over to the window and leans out, sucking in the cool May air. She can't breathe. No matter how much air she takes in, she can't breathe.
In desperation, she retrieves the portable phone from the bedroom and climbs into the bathtub. A layer of cold sweat covers her body; her palms are slick against the cold porcelain. She rests her head on the tiled wall behind her as she goes through the past couple of weeks. It is a blur of taking tests and avoiding Paris and hiding from Blake and stuttering through explanations of where she had been.
Blake never asked about Jess even though she is convinced that he knows. He simply accepted her excuse of needing a relaxing weekend away before finals set in. Who would expect something different? She is Richard and Emily's granddaughter, assistant editor of Yale's newspaper, number nine in her class. She has always played the part of the good little girl well.
She knows she should have called him, just as she knows that her decision in California cannot happen. Blake is part of the Gilmore family now, looking out for Richard, charming Emily, and Rory feels as trapped as ever.
Staring down at the phone, she is hit with the uncontrollable urge to speak to him. She dials his number.
"'Lo?" Jess's tired voice crawls over the line.
"Hello?" he repeats, irritation creeping into his tone. She can't speak, doesn't know how. How is she supposed to explain almost three weeks of silence? He won't understand!
"Rory?"
She squeezes her eyes shut and pushes her feet against the opposite wall. The tension within her seeps into the surrounding air, prickling against her skin like electric static. She pushes harder.
"Rory, I know it's you. You learned this from me."
Her foot slips and collides with the cold water handle. She lets out a shriek as the showerhead turns on and she gets soaked. Quickly she dives to the other end and shuts off the water, breathing hard.
"Jess." Her hair is slick against her neck, the phone slippery in her hand. "Jess," she says again. She thinks he's hung up.
"What do you want?" When she does not answer, he asks again: "Rory, what do you want from me?"
"Tomorrow's my graduation."
"Congratulations," he deadpans.
"I want you to come."
"Excuse me?"
She bites her lip and repeats herself. "I want you to come. Please, Jess. It won't be the same if you aren't there."
He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Somehow I don't think you'll notice my absence."
"Jess…" She wants to explain to him how she let her grandfather down. He had needed her but she had been too busy lying on the beach, sleeping with Jess, ignoring her role in her family's life. Richard would be so disappointed if he knew where she'd really been.
"I haven't been around in a couple of weeks, Rory, and it doesn't seem to have fazed you."
"I miss you," she tells him quietly.
"Bullshit."
"You don't understand."
"No, I understand just perfectly. Good luck tomorrow, Rory. I hope you have a nice fucking life."
He yanks the phone out of the wall and throws it clear across the room. He doesn't need these midnight calls, her pleading voice. He doesn't need her.
>
"Oh, babe." Lorelai covers her mouth as she watches her daughter walk down the stairs, clad in her cap and gown. "Okay, I want you to come down the stairs again, but this time, try not to look like you're marching to your death."
"Funny," Rory deadpans.
Lorelai grabs Rory's hand, a serious expression fixed on her face. "Are you okay? Because this is the day when four years of work finally pays off, and we all worship the ground you walk on." She pauses. "You know, more so than usual. This should be a happy day."
"It is."
"Then where's your smile?"
Rory plasters a cheesy grin on her face. Lorelai rolls her eyes but takes a picture anyway. "We'll label that one as Rory's mood disorder kicking in. For the rest, I'd like some genuine happiness."
Rory shrugs. "I'll try."
"Or you can tell me what's bothering you. I know things for you lately have been… hard. You've been stressed. But you can tell me. Whatever it is."
The house is quiet; it is only the two of them. Lorelai gives her an imploring look and she relents.
"Jess isn't coming today."
"Somehow I didn't think he would."
"I – I was stupid. I called him last night and asked him. I told him I missed him." Rory rubs her forehead, growing hot in her robe.
"Rory, you can still end things with Blake and – "
"Did you know Blake is practically running Grandpa's company right now? His position is sealed there even after Grandpa gets better." She walks past her mother into the living room. "And Grandma adores him. She loves bragging to all of her DAR friends about the two of us, how beautiful the children will be." She spins around. "They have my future planned out for me already. And it's Blake."
"All the more reason to end this now."
"I can't. I can't do that to them after all they've done for me. I owe them my future. I wouldn't be here without them and – "
"No!" Lorelai throws her hands up in the air in frustration. "We've been through this! They don't own you, Rory."
"I don't want to let them down."
"You're human! Disappointment is a part of life. You don't have – " Lorelai cuts herself off as realization washes over here. "Oh." She sinks onto couch. "You don't want to do the same thing I did to them."
"This isn't like that," Rory whispers.
"This is exactly like that! Rory, you will never be what I am to them. I promise you. They love you and think you're amazing, but you don't have to be perfect for them. Do you understand?" When there is no reply, Lorelai stands and grabs her daughter's wrist. "Rory, do you understand?"
Lorelai sighs when Rory stays silent. "So that's it? You've signed your life away – property of Emily Gilmore?"
Rory rips her arm away, frowning. "I need to change."
"Fine. I'll meet you in the car."
>
(He's not here.)
She looks out at her family as they stare back: proud, speechless, full of tears.
"Lorelai Leigh Gilmore."
(He isn't here and it hurts.)
She shakes hands, receives her diploma, flips her tassel to the other side. Lorelai and Sookie cheer for her; her grandmother dabs her eyes.
(He isn't here to wink at her as she walks across the stage or to make fun of her graduation robe. He isn't here to kiss her congratulations and tell her how proud he is. And it's her fault.)
She has crossed into her future, but she doesn't find it hopeful or exciting. It is dark. Bleak.
There is no light at the other end.
>
Her head aches and her feet hurt. There is a vague sensation of pain spreading over the rest of her as she smiles too much and Blake kisses her cheek, his arm fixed around her waist.
She wants nothing more than to be back at home in Stars Hollow, curled up in her little girl bed with a good book and her mother to watch over her. But she can't have that today. Probably never again.
"Rory, dear." Emily swoops in and gives her granddaughter a tremendous hug. "Congratulations. Your grandfather and I are so proud of you."
"Thanks, Grandma. And thanks for the party." Rory gestures to the scattered guests – most of who she doesn't recognize. "I appreciate all you've done for me."
"We were happy to." Emily smiles at Blake. "Congratulations are in order for you too." She winks, something rather uncharacteristic of her, before moving on to greet other people.
"Is she acting strange or is it just me?" Rory asks.
"It's just you," Blake assures her.
"I can't remember the last time she hugged me in public. Isn't there some rule against that – proper social conduct? No public displays of affection?"
Blake places a hand on her waist and pulls her to him. "Is there a rule like that?" he asks quietly.
"Blake," she chastises. "There are people watching."
He kisses her softly, ignoring her less than stellar response. "We've been dating for over three years, Rory. I think people would worry more if we didn't kiss in public."
He surveys the room, and when he finds everyone's attention otherwise occupied, he leads her around a corner and backs her into a wall. "You know, this is technically our last chance to act like reckless youth. To everyone else, we are officially considered adults."
"Oh boy."
"Stuffy, boring adults. With responsibilities."
"We already have responsibilities," she points out. "You just graduated, and already you're working for a big business."
"Yeah, I think I finally won your grandfather over." He kisses her neck, grazes her ear with his tongue. "It only took me three and a half years."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," she mumbles. Closing her eyes, she transports herself back to California, the night she told Jess she loved him. She is back in the water, her arms fixed firmly around his neck as he removes her shirt.
Blake kisses her mouth, as his hand explores her thigh beneath her dress. She remembers the way she and Jess stumbled across the beach, their world reduced to a whirlwind of seawater and sand.
In the next room, a loud burst of laughter breaks out and Rory pushes Blake away, harshly reminded of where she is.
"What's wrong?" Blake asks, his words full of concern.
"I don't feel well." She holds her head, furrowing her brow. "I want to go home and lay down."
"But this party is for you. You can't leave."
Watch me. "Blake…"
"Come on, one more hour and then I'll take you home." He kisses the hollow of her throat, trailing his lips up her neck. "And you can lie down." His hand travels to the small of her back. "And slip into something more comfortable." His hand dips lower. "And then we can really celebrate."
"Whatever," she sighs, sidestepping him. Without a backwards glance to his hurt expression, she heads back into the party.
>
"I'd like to make a toast to my granddaughter, Rory, who I am immensely proud of. From our first outing to the country club when she was only fifteen, I knew she was something special." Richard beams proudly.
"As I sat in the steam room that day, I listened to the other men complain of their ungrateful and rebellious granddaughters, while I got to brag about mine. Rory has always been someone different, someone that stood out from the rest. She dreamt of Prague and Fez while most other girls dreamt of dates with the Backroad Boys or whatever other odious boy band existed." He pauses as the crowd chuckles.
"Rory, I am very proud of you. You are destined for great things, and I, for one, cannot wait to see what you do once you get out into the world. Congratulations on your achievements."
The crowd claps as Rory hides her face, blinking back tears. She is genuinely touched at the things her grandfather has said. A happy glow settles over her as she runs the words over and over in her mind.
"My turn," Blake announces, taking Richard's place in front of the fireplace. He looks around the room at the assembled guests, all who have a champagne glass, ready to toast in Rory's name. Blake grins.
"Rory and I met in our freshman year, when my parents and her grandparents began to scheme. They set us up and sparks flew." He nods over at Rory. "This girl, excuse me, woman amazes me every day with her intelligence, wit, and beauty." She blushes, returning his smile. "Our graduation is over and we have begun the rest of our lives. And as I think about the future, I know I can't have one without her."
Her smile falters as she watches him closely.
"Rory, could you come up here, please?"
She rises slowly from her seat. Her steps are unsure and hesitant as she walks over to him, passing her grinning grandmother on the way. The crowd holds their breath.
Blake removes a velvet box from his pants' pocket and gets down upon one knee. Taking her hand, he opens the jewelry box, revealing a glittering diamond ring. "Rory, will you marry me?"
Her heart stops. It literally freezes mid-beat as reality crashes in on her, painting a vivid picture of how far she has pushed this. A dizzy kind of nausea seizes her as she stares down at the man she used to love.
"Blake…" She pulls his wrist and he stands. "How can you do this to me?" she asks in a hushed whisper. "In front of all these people! You're putting me on the spot."
"I didn't think this was a difficult question."
She shakes her head, backing away. "I can't do this right now." She rushes out of the room, disappearing down the hall.
>
At least an hour passes as she lies on the leather couch in the library. No one has disturbed her and she's thankful. She needs this solitude so she can clear her mind and think. She has no idea what to do.
Closing her eyes, she imagines a world where she is brave. She calls Jess and begs him to pick her up, and he does. Leaving her heels behind, she climbs out a window and finds him waiting. They drive away together in his junk car where she tells him she's sorry and that she loves him. That nothing else matters but him.
In the real world, she gets off the couch and goes into the hallway, listening hard for voices. The house is quiet and she guesses that everyone has gone home. She wanders toward her grandfather's study, hoping she can talk to him. Maybe she hasn't given him enough credit. Maybe he'll understand.
The door is open a crack and Rory pauses when she hears Blake.
"I don't know what I did wrong."
"Blake, dear, it's alright. This is not the end of the world. She'll come to her senses," Emily explains.
Rory waits for her grandfather to chime in, but he never does. Peeking in, she doesn't see him.
"I'm not sure she's going to," Blake says.
"Of course, she will. Rory loves you but she didn't grow up around a healthy marriage. She's afraid. You have to assure her that you know what you are doing, and will provide for her."
"I thought she already knew that," Blake grumbles.
"Remind her. Worrying over this is ridiculous. She will say yes. Let's concentrate on what happens next… You're taking over Richard's company."
"Are you sure he'll pass it to me once he retires next year?"
"With you married to Rory, how could he not? I hope this will speed things along. I do not want him working anymore. It's just too – Rory."
Blake swivels in his seat to find Rory standing in the doorway, her mouth hanging open.
"What century are we in?" Rory demands. "Because I didn't think arranged marriages were allowed anymore."
"Rory, no. That is not what this is," Blake tells her, standing.
"Grandpa's company? That's what this is all about? Taking over?"
"No, Rory, I swear."
"This is unbelievable." She turns and rushes back down the hall, but Blake catches her before she makes it to the living room.
"Rory," he pleads, trapping her against the wall. "Listen to me. I love you." She shakes her head, staring at anything but him. "I've loved you since our first date when you made me drive to McDonalds because the restaurant I picked out was terrible. I love you and I want to marry you. Your grandfather's company… that's just a bonus. Something convenient, something I may or may not do."
He cups her cheek, begging her. "Rory, I want you."
"I can't believe this."
"No, Rory, I told you – "
She cuts him off. "I can't believe that after all this time you still love me. You can't! I'm awful to you. I miss dates, and I don't call, and I'm never ever there."
"We hit a rough patch but we'll get through it – "
"I slept with Jess."
"What?" Rory stares at the ground, but he roughly grips her chin, forcing him to look at her. "What did you say?"
"I've been seeing Jess," she tells him quietly.
He can't breathe. The air is harsh and heavy with something like betrayal, too thick to reach his lungs. "Since when?"
"January."
"You…" he trails off. He doesn't know what to say.
"I'm sorry," she whispers.
He nods dumbly and heads for the door, a hand trailing across the wall so he can find his way.