A/N: Here's chapter 4. The fun in writing the more obscure characters is that you get to make up the back-stories yourself!
Before we start, I have to share my amazement at the amount of reviews. The feedback for chapter three was as much as the first two chapters combined. Also, three of my favorite authors reviewed this (thank you so much lisehrin, Muffin Is Injured, and Once Upon a Whim :who gets extra thanks for the great suggestion:). Your kind words are high praise from writers of your talent!
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Chapter Four – Francine Hayden
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"But you have… so many people who-"
"Can never hold me in the middle of the night, when I'm cold or scared or just need to be touched, when the world comes crashing down and I don't know where to turn. I reach for someone, but all I find is-"
"An empty pillow to hang on to."
-A Solitary Life, by graveshiftcsi author Ercila
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Francine Hayden had tried her hardest to keep her son from going through the same ordeal she did. She had shielded him from the bad things in life. But there was nothing she could do when she discovered that Lorelai Gilmore was pregnant.
Her suggestion to get rid of the baby was not one made without thought. But the Gilmore family had no idea that the same thing had happened to her.
And as ashamed as she is to admit it even to herself, sometimes she wished she had made that choice.
At the age of 17, when she was Francine Phillips, she had discovered she was pregnant with Straub Hayden's baby. As all civilized people know, marriage was the only option.
Two weeks after the delivery, she stood in front of the alter in a white dress, declaring to honor and cherish forever a man that she didn't love. And she intended to keep that promise, no matter her own personal opinions.
It was all for the baby. That was what mattered now.
Francine was always supportive of Lorelai's decision. She admired the fact that a girl so young would defy her parents and the unwritten laws of life for what she thought was the right thing.
However, she never spoke of her support, in fear of her husband and in fear of damaging the Hayden reputation.
Straub was a very opinionated man with a quick temper. At the first sign of argument, he would raise his voice. This turned her into a very quiet, withdrawn woman.
She had become what she had scoffed in her youth. She had become the trophy wife with no thoughts of her own. Whenever a problem arose, immediately Francine sided with her husband.
It was easier that way.
Never had he struck her or physically harmed her in any way, but she felt as if the verbal humiliation wounded her more. She was frightened by their disputes, as Straub always seemed to be one small step away from hitting her.
Sometimes she wished that he would, thinking that if he did, the suspense during their fights would be less. It was like Chinese water torture to her – always waiting for the next drop, always waiting for him to cross the line from argumentative to abusive.
But Francine always swallowed her fear and kept her composure, never yelling in return but also never speaking her mind. She would hold in the tears until the time came when she could escape to her bedroom.
They didn't even sleep in the same room anymore.
She would cry until there were no more tears, hoping in vain that this would be the last time.
He loved her.
Right?
This wouldn't happen again.
Right?
And as much as she repeated these phrases to herself, she just never could quite believe it.
True love seemed such an odd desire for a grown, married woman, she thought. It's always associated with cheesy animated Disney movies and girly romantic comedies.
She couldn't help but fantasize sometimes, though, about the infamous Mr. Right.
And Francine would fall asleep, clutching her pillow close to her, wishing that she were holding on to a real person.
She'd rather have something over nothing.
When Straub died, she was embarrassed to admit her delight.
It wasn't as if she didn't mourn. She did. But after about a week, she wasn't sad anymore.
Because Francine knew she would finally get her shot at love.
Better late than never.
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To Be Continued…
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