They slid into a booth at the back of the restaurant where Lorelai's hand immediately found a place on Luke's knee. He didn't look up.
She scooted closer and took his arm, pressing her nose into his shoulder. She was staring at him intently.
"Hi?" Her voice was slightly muffled through the fabric of his shirt. Luke glanced at her, pretty sure it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. He restrained himself from his natural reaction and kept his eyes on the table. He wanted to run away; he needed time to think.
But her flowery perfume was taking over his mind, and he found himself at a loss. He closed his eyes.
"Are you okay?" Her chin migrated up to his shoulder.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he stumbled. "I'm just gonna go outside for a second."
"Outside? Why?"
"I, uh, I'm just going to make a call. To the diner, check on things."
"Here, use my cell phone," she offered, reaching for her purse.
"No, it's fine. I think there's a pay phone outside. I'll be right back." He'd barely finished his sentence before getting up. He didn't give her a second look.
Luke opened the door of the restaurant with such force that it slammed against the wall. She followed him with her eyes, confused, rooted to her seat.
The only thing he could be certain of was that he'd been incredibly stupid. The Spanish tiles of the sidewalk blurred as he stormed up the street. He'd let himself be so easily convinced that this was actually happening.
Luke had been so cautious of where he stowed his feelings over the past ten years. He didn't know how he'd arrived at this point, about to break up with the woman he'd been dreaming of for years.
It occurred to him briefly that maybe he'd put his feelings into Lorelai because he never thought she'd want him. And if she never wanted him then he'd never have to see his heart broken. He could harbor and revel in secret feelings and desires that couldn't be dashed because they were never returned. She wouldn't jerk him around; she wouldn't leave him. She'd always be there on the other side of the counter.
And she needed to stay there, he thought, on the other side. Because there was too much at stake.
He couldn't take that look anymore. Especially not from Lorelai.
He had to stop confusing being wanted with being needed.
He also needed to quit psychoanalyzing himself. Clear his head.
His dad had taught him that, when making a decision, you should ask yourself a series of questions. The types of questions that people ask themselves are what distinguish one person from another, good people from bad people, successful people from failures.
And if you could learn to ask yourself the right questions then you'd have a good thinking head on your shoulders.
Right. So where to start.
Luke thought the best thing to do would be to pinpoint exactly what it was he wanted.
'I want Lorelai,' his brain answered promptly.
Okay, that wasn't getting him anywhere. He probed his thoughts further and asked himself how he would have wanted them to first get together.
If he'd had his way, he thought, she would have come to him when her life was in order. She would have walked into the diner one day, told him that she wanted to be with him more than anything, and that she was willing to make room in her stable life for him.
He wanted her to be the strong, confident woman that she was around everyone else. Like the way she was around Christopher, the way he'd seen her act around Nicole. He refused to take in the dribbling mess of a girl that he comforted last night only to have her get herself together and go be confident around someone else.
But god, what a beautiful mess she made.
His thoughts turned again to last night when kissed her forehead, made her laugh. He knew that was his domain: the caring friend, the verbal sparring partner, the hunter-gatherer. And he didn't want to stop playing his role.
But the problem was that he knew he wasn't going to get to play the role he really wanted, more than anything.
He wasn't going to fall into step with her; he would continue to be one step behind, picking up after her, making sure she didn't fall. Talking her off the ledge, guiding her in the right direction.
He wanted to be the cause of the joy in her life, not the person who helped cheer her up when it was gone.
And it had to be that way, or he didn't want it. He couldn't have his heart broken again. Not by her.
One thing he could be thankful for was that she had inadvertently stopped him from spilling his guts the previous morning with the news of Mia's death. At least, with things they way they were, he knew what he had to do. If they'd gotten together in Stars Hollow, he may have been too blinded by her affection to see things clearly until it was too late.
He couldn't take back what had already happened. She already needed him, and now she wanted more from him, and he was going to have to be stronger than that. He buried his head in his hands.
"Luke?"
Lorelai walked up to the bench on which Luke was perched.
"I've been walking up and down this street looking for you. The waitress said the nearest pay phone was in the other direction… what's wrong? What happened?"
Her tone was demanding, but her countenance betrayed concern and fear.
"You've been gone a half hour," she added. "Did something happen to the diner? Did I do something? Luke, please talk to me."
He rubbed his face and turned away. He couldn't remember ever finding the strength to say no to her, and the realization that he was about to break up with her before their relationship had even started was almost too much.
He felt her hand cautiously find a place on his shoulder and he knew it was his turn to say something.
"I want out. I can't do this."
And that was the best he could do to describe his feelings.
Luke heard a sharp intake of breath and turned to her. Her eyes were searching the ground, her mouth slightly open.
His own heart was pounding mercilessly, and every bone in his body was straining to take hold of her, reassure her, say soothing things.
"You want out of… us?"
"Yes," he said quietly.
"I… can we at least discuss this? I don't get a say?"
"Look, Lorelai, I'm sorry that… this is just the way it has to be. It's not going to work between us."
She gaped at him in disbelief. "You won't even come back inside and talk about this? That's it?"
"I'm not very hungry," he said. "I'm just gonna head back and go to bed. We've got a lot to deal with tomorrow."
And with that, he was gone.
Lorelai sat on the bench, completely lost. She felt nauseous.
She'd replayed the day in her head over and over again until it was all a tangle of surreal, interchangeable events. The last 24 hours had seen her exhaust every volatile emotion a human being can experience, and her feelings for Luke were the only ones she knew she wanted to take back with her to Connecticut.
Maybe she had cried one too many times, maybe she'd kissed him wrong. Maybe she'd forgotten deodorant this morning and it had turned him off. Maybe he was just humoring her when he told her he liked her. Maybe he'd just come to his senses.
The sun had set long ago, and the Saturday night crowd was starting early. College kids filled the sidewalk around her, forming lines outside of the bars behind her. Music blasted out from open-air clubs and the smell of alcohol wafted out onto the street.
The air was warm, but the breeze from the ocean gave her goose bumps.
A homeless man asked her for change. A 22-year-old asked her name and offered her a cigarette. A cab driver asked her if she needed a ride.
She shook her head at all of them, completely numb, arms crossed protectively against her body.
There was nowhere to go. She couldn't go back to the room, didn't want to go back to the restaurant. The thought of a cup of coffee stung a bit, considering its intimate associations, but she walked into a small café and ordered one anyway. She took one sip and threw it in the trash.
She walked down to the water and took off her heels, sinking her feet in the cold sand. The tide was out and the beach twice as expansive as it had been before. She decided to wait until he was asleep before creeping back into the room. Lorelai sat down, time lingering.
And she wanted to cry now, get it all out so that she could be around him later without falling apart. It was a calculated decision to cry, but it wasn't difficult to summon.
She buried her face in her knees and sobbed quietly until the water began lapping at her feet. She cried for Mia, for Rory, for her parents. She cried for Luke. But mainly, she cried for herself.
There were people here and there. A couple taking a late-night stroll, patches of drunk kids skinny-dipping, daring each other to jump in the freezing water. She looked up every time she heard someone, hoping to see him coming toward her.
Her teeth wouldn't stop chattering. A low mist appeared, hanging on the edge of the waves, and she thought it might be time to go back.
She dusted the sand from her clothes, wiped her face and retied her hair, making her way up the beach.