A/N: I decided to include a happy ending because some readers pointed out that this is FICTION after all, so even though I don't think it could ever work out this way (though I wish it would), this is how I picture just one of their many reunions. And a little cheesy I must say….So if you have any suggestions as to what the last lines of this should be, if you could drop a line that would be fabulous ;) – There will probably be many different edits of this alone the way
Disclaimer #2 : I do not own THE NOTEBOOK (just can't get enough of it) quotes (the italics half way down) – and I do not have $...ta da. So on with the story shall we:)
Her head is aching as she rolls out of bed. But then again she thinks yelling with Derek has something to do with it. Her honeymoon, she once imagined would be exotic, invigorating and somewhat exciting, but for the most part it had been quite dull. They had barely spoken a word to each other the whole trip. Of course no words are usually needed on a Honeymoon.
There is nothing wrong with Derek in bed. She had always considered him quite apt and able, but she realized with a sunken heart that he was no Jess. The moment of realization had occurred right in the very middle of lovemaking, because there were no sparks, no mind-blowing acts and above all she felt no need whatsoever to even touch him afterwards. She had been so disgusted that she fell asleep immediately afterwards. Once home, they had barely been in the same room together let alone even spoken or god forbid slept together. He had always taken his meals in his study and their marriage did not wreck this habit. So she was left to sit at the long dining room table alone, in the midst of countless empty chairs. Twice already she had been near tears, and had already confided in the maid, Sylvia, about her problems. Why pay more money for the therapist when you have a perfectly good listener waiting on you hand and foot?
She pulls the door shut careful not to wake him, for she can barely stand him enough when he is sleeping let alone when he's awake. The clock in the hall strikes 10 solid beats and she realizes with an earnest heart that they've overslept. She comes in the dining room, in her solid red robe, hair unruly as ever, and sets herself down at the head of the table. A groan comes from her stomach and she realizes she hasn't eaten for over twelve hours. Sylvia comes rushing in.
"What can I get you for breakfast, Ma'am?"
She looks up at the maid and shakes her head quite roughly.
"Sylvia, how many times have I told you, you can call me Rory, just as long as he's not around?"
The maid smiles timidly at her, happy to be involved in anything no matter how petit it may be.
"Right – Rory, what would you like for breakfast?"
"How about scrambled eggs, bacon, ham, toast, pancakes, - oh yes, and a gallon of coffee."
Sylvia gives her an unsure look and Rory smiles at her.
"A cup will do."
The maid nods and scurries into the kitchen. Alone once again, she wraps her robe around herself even tighter. She gets up from her seated position and goes out to fetch the mail. She opens the door and walks out into the warm July day. Now and only now, does she realize how particularly ridiculous she must look. She looks down at her robe and fingers her hair and laughs appreciatively at herself. If only Derek could see her now, he would throw an absolute fit. She grabs the newspaper sitting outside and fetches the mail in her other hand.
She walks back inside, dirty feet and all. She finds her seat once again at the head of the table and spreads the paper out onto the tablecloth. Then files through the mail, trying to flip the ones not addressed to her into the flower vase, in the middle of the table, but missing terribly. This, she reminds herself, is why she never played sports. She then rifles through the ones addressed to her. One looks like junk, the other is from the DAR group, perhaps inviting her to another luncheon. The last one lies in front of her, but scrawled on top in tiny, imprecise handwriting is do not open until tonight. Curiosity seeps over her, but suddenly it hits her, she knows that handwriting. She could recognize it a mile away, considering every time she reads one of her books, it pops up on every other page. She sets it down, contemplating what this means. She's not quite sure. Actually she has no idea, and cusses slightly under her breath at him for doing this once again to her. She thought she let go of this, obviously not. She shoves it off to the side, trying to forget it, and does slightly as Sylvia comes back out with steaming plates of hot food. She sets a plate in front of the mistress. Suddenly she feels extremely lonely.
"Is that all miss – I mean, Rory?" she says a small smiling creeping over her face.
"Sylvia, have you eaten today?" she asks her.
The maid gives a quick shake of her head.
"Well, there's enough food here for a small army, which means I can eat half but there will be a lot left over. Would you like to eat with me?"
Sylvia practically jumps up for joy at this offer.
"Just let me get a plate and I would be happy to eat with you."
They sit down to a nice meal and she no longer feels lonely, or the least bit curious.
Derek does finally wake up and he finds that work must take him away from her. He showers and dresses without so much as a word to her, but seeing this no longer shocks her. He leaves later than usual which means he won't be home until nearly the midmorning hours. She finds solitude in their library; it is the one room in their house he hasn't taken over yet. She eats and talks with Sylvia some more, she even calls her mother to dish the very little dirt there is from the honeymoon. Her grandmother stops by for her weekly check-up. And as she leaves, for once she wishes her grandmother would just stay but somehow the words don't formulate in her mouth. Her books are among her only friends it seems and only occasionally does she go outside that day. The letter that had once peaked her curiosity is still strewn to the side, left by Sylvia, purposefully on the corner of the table.
The day draws on and as she begins to feel tired, she thinks she might go to bed early, seeing as that she has nothing to look forward to in the morning. She gets up from her seat in the parlor and walks to the staircase with every intention of heading upstairs. But suddenly something inside her stops her. Her insides start to squirm suddenly and for a moment she thinks she's sick. She puts her hand around her stomach and out of sheer habit reaches up to her heart to check her pulse and finds that it's rather rapid. She seats herself on the steps and suddenly has the odd feeling her conscience is trying to tell her something. Her insides suddenly feel normal and her heartbeat falls into its normal rhythm, and she instinctively looks around. But she still has a feeling, something nagging at her. She looks at the door and suddenly becomes curious, that little voice inside of her is telling her to open the door. She thinks she must be going crazy, going crazy over a damn door; Derek would have a field day if she ever told him about it. She gets up and looks to see if Sylvia is around, because she doesn't want to look crazy to anyone else other than herself. Her hand reaches for the shiny silver knob and she turns it. Pulling it towards her she gasps at the sight before her.
He stands in front of her. One arm has a number of pieces of paper, and the other is reaching up as if to knock on the door. Her breathe catches itself in the basin of her throat and her stomach truly begins to feel queasy. She fingers the delicate fabric of her silk nighty and suddenly feels increasingly naked, even though she's completely covered. His jacket hangs off of him and his hair (as usual) is in sexy disarray. Neither of them says anything; both just stare at each other. They both have questioning looks, him because he wonders how she knew to open the door and her wondering why he's there.
She knows she technically doesn't need to be the one to speak, not in proper etiquette rules nor in Jess's rules, but she figures she doesn't have time to play stupid mind games with him, or more likely she does have the time, she would just rather get straight to the point.
She opens her mouth to speak but he places a finger over her lips, surprising her immensely. He takes the sheets of paper and sets them down in front of him. He bends down to pick up a sheet and scrawled across it, in his very own chicken-scratch reads: I've never been good with words, you know this.
She reads it and looks back up at him with a questioning look. He puts the piece of paper down and reaches to the next one, holding it up in front of her: So here it goes: It's not gonna be easy. It's gonna be really hard.
All she does, to this, is wrap her nighty around her tighter.
He picks up the next piece: We're gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you.
She puts her hand up to her mouth slightly moved by his words, for a moment she feels flustered.
He reaches for another paper and holds it in front of her: I want all of you, forever, you and me, every day.
Tears start to slightly form in the corner of her eyes and for a moment she doesn't know what to do or think and instinctively she backs away from him.
He reaches once again, for a piece: I need you because…I love you. You complete me.
He takes his hand and wipes the tears out of the corner of her eyes and cups her chin in his hand before he takes another step back.
He holds up another sheet for her: All I ever wanted was to be with you. I can be everything you need. Let me prove it to you.
She catches her breath slowly and looks up at him, his eyes are shining at her and his mouth is curved into a genuine smile. She can't help but smile back at him and then she does it. She nods her head to him. She releases every misjudgment and imperfection she loves about him. She signs her life to him and she loves the feeling. His smile turns into a full on heart-felt grin, like a little boy on Christmas morning, feeling that he got the best present of all.
He stoops down to gather the papers in front of him. She watches him closely unsure of what she's supposed to do now. Her heart is beating rapidly in her chest almost as though she's sure she won't be able to breath within minutes, but she's exaggerating of course. Then without so much as a glance back towards her, he leaves her, standing in the doorway.
"Jess!"
He doesn't turn around, nor does he say anything. He just keeps walking.
She shuts the door clearly puzzled, yet entirely giddy at the sight of him. She turns around and lets out a low shriek. Sylvia stands right in front of her, at the foot of the steps.
"You scared me," she says breathlessly.
The maid takes a step closer.
"I'm sorry Ma'am. Here you go," Sylvia says handing the letter from the morning to her.
She takes the note in her hand and looks up suspiciously at Sylvia, wondering exactly what's happening.
"You know what this is?" she asks the maid.
She nods.
"Yes ma'am it's from that man. He came by this morning and told me to only let you open it if you said yes."
"Yes to what?"
"Yes to him ma'am," as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And you said yes, so you get to open the letter."
She does as she's told and in her hand she holds a train ticket. She nearly drops it, astonished at the sight of it. She smiles though, because in her hand she holds the key to all her future.
"Sylvia, I need to pack," she says.
The maid nods and both scurry into the bedroom. The maid flings the suitcase out from under the bed and Rory throws things from her closet on the bed. Normally it would take her hours to pack and think out everything, but now she was running entirely on adrenaline and plus she didn't have the time.
"Ma'am, if I might say, I think this is very romantic."
Rory smiles, mid-packing and stops.
"You're right, it really is romantic."
"I wish I could find my very own…"
"Jess. His name is Jess."
"Well, I wish I could find my very own Jess."
"It'll be exactly when and where you least expect it. But it'll happen Sylvia, I just know it."
They both pack quietly thinking different thoughts together. Then suddenly something she never thought of hits her.
"Derek…"
"What about him ma'am?"
"Do you know when he's coming home?"
"Yes, ma'am, he said that he would like dinner on the table at 10 o'clock for him."
She nods and continues packing various objects, most aren't needed, but others she put together with thoughtless effort.
When she's finally packed she looks around the room and finds that she has very few possessions at all, most are symbolic of her and Derek. Frankly she'd rather leave these things, than take them with her.
"Is that it ma'am?" she asks as she lugs the suitcase down the steps right to the front of the door.
"I think so," she tells the maid. Then something strikes her rather rapidly. She walks over to the study in the adjoining room and scrawls a few parting remarks on a sheet of paper, places it promptly in front of his desk.
"Ma'am your taxi is here," she yells.
Rory returns to the hall, walks outside and watches as the taxi driver loads her suitcase into the back.
"Where to ma'am?" he asks.
"Train station."
He nods at her and goes inside the car.
She turns to Sylvia, all smiles.
"Thank you for everything," she says, embracing the fragile and surprised maid in a sincere hug.
"You're welcome ma'am."
"Rory. Remember its Rory."
The maid smiles watching as she climbs into the back seat and the cab pulls out of the driveway. She watches the car speed away and they both wave at each other. Her heart breaks a little realizing she's leaving probably the only friend she's ever had for a while.
"Goodbye Rory," Sylvia says softly, smiling and turning to go back inside, where she would await the outburst that would almost be inevitable once the Mister came home.
She watches the landscape pass her by and realizes how truly large the world is. It never quite occurred to her, how far the land stretched. She plays with the ring on her finger, making the sudden realization that she's still wearing it. The man seated next to her, is bald and thin. His nervousness is apparent from the large beads of seat on his forehead and she can not help but quietly smirk at him. When some people are nervous they tend to be quiet and non-talkative. He was not one of these people.
"That's a very nice ring," he tells her, watching her play with it.
She removes it from her finger.
"You want it?" she asks him. He looks at her, trying to find out whether or not she's kidding. But she's neither smirking nor smiling. She's of course only half kidding. He doesn't say anything so she places it in her pocket.
"You know I'm meeting this girl in New York," he tells her, leaning into her, but not seductively. "We've been dating for almost two years. The thing is she keeps saying she wants to have kids and settle down. But I don't know- I mean obviously I love her, but still, it's such a commitment…"
He goes on for most of the trip, until even he feels too tired for words.
After many stops along the way, the train finally arrives, mid-morning, in the train station. She gets off the train rather quickly considering she's barely had 4 hours of sleep. Suddenly she feels extremely alone, realizing that no one is there she knows and she doesn't have any clue as to where she's supposed to go.
She makes her way down the platform off to the escalator. Slowly moving down them, she finally sees him in all his glory. His jeans are slightly faded, and his hair is standing on end. His shirt hangs on him, a soft black button-up. Her favorite.
She steps off the escalator and suddenly she feels like a shy teenager standing in front of her crush. He takes a step towards her. She steps up in front of him and they're barely a foot apart just staring at each other. She notices his hand is behind is back, he watches her eyes trace his body up and down. He takes the object from behind him and in his hand he gives her a single red rose. She gasps softly at him taking it, and staring at him carefully. He takes his hand and places it around her waist, pulling her towards him even more. She looks up at him putting her hands around his neck.
"Thanks for the rose," she says softly.
"No problem."
They stare at each other carefully still, each grinning like little kids.
"You're not going to turn into a softy now are you?" she says teasingly.
He smiles at her, and suddenly any tension that had occurred was completely gone.
"Me? Nah."
He pulls her closer but she's the one that initiates the kiss. She realizes finally that this is how a kiss is supposed to taste. No guilt, no resentment, just happiness. She pulls away for a moment and he looks at her slightly worried she's having second thoughts.
"Hey Jess?" she says.
"Ya," he looks down at her worriedly.
She gulps slightly, unnoticeable to him.
"Don't let me go again."
He smiles at her words.
"I won't," he tells her.
He bends down to kiss her again but a loud applause goes on around them and they both look up for a moment and realize that there is a crowd of onlookers around them. A few whistles go around and finally some idiot yells "Just kiss her already."
They both laugh at the comment. He does kiss her and suddenly he forgets about everything else, but her.
A/N: I say screw realism for a moment because I was watching some old episodes with my boyfriend and I mean really they are meant to be with each other. Therefore I decided to create a happy ending. I'm also hoping to perhaps continue on after this in either a few more chapters or a sequel. Maybe I'll just stop here. Feedback on this would be greatly appreciated.