It's dark when I wake up from, I think, the deepest sleep I've ever had. I didn't even dream. It was like a black hole I finally crawled out of. Glancing over to Luke's side of the bed, Rory is curled up in a ball, still in her clothes from Friday. The clock reads 3:23. That must be AM because the sun isn't up. It's Sunday already. I completely missed Saturday.

I remember them giving me drugs. I remember crying. But I don't really remember Saturday. I don't want to. I don't want to remember today. I don't want to remember anything anymore.

Getting up, I realize that I'm not in Friday's clothes. Somehow I've changed into black sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt with a dragonfly on it. I pick my robe up off the floor, sighing at the mess I've made. I glance once more at my sleeping daughter, wrapping the robe around myself.

There's only one place I want to be right now, but there's two things I have to do first. I walk across the hall to Will's room. It used to be my sewing room before we had the twins. When they were born, Luke moved the sewing supplies over to his old apartment above the diner. He's always thoughtful like that. He was… always… I shake my head trying to clear my head. I realize after a moment that it's Marty that's asleep in the bed. I smile and shut the door, because the boy needs to sleep even if I can't.

I go downstairs and notice April asleep on the couch. I breathe a sigh of relief, at least someone told her. She's a good kid. She has a conscience like her dad.

I walk over to Katie's room to find both of the twins asleep in the bed. I wonder if they've been told. I kind of remember hearing Rory say that I have to be the one to tell them, but I'm not sure if that actually happened. Watching my twins sleep, I get choked up again. These are Luke's kids. These two and April. He's supposed to be part of raising them! How could he leave me to do this alone!

Grabbing my keys angrily, I run out of my house, barely remembering to shut the door behind me. I know this path like no other, I've been going this way for years. But The Hallow doesn't seem quiet to me as it usually would at this time of night. All I can hear are angry voices in my head. Screaming. I cover my face with my hands as I begin to run towards my destination, knowing if I let go, I won't be able to hold myself together.

I arrive at the diner. I stand outside the door for a moment and I can picture what I would see. I would walk in and see Luke behind the counter fixing the toaster. Kirk at the table to my left, complaining about his bill and some crying babies to my right driving Luke crazy. The place would be hopping and Clara would be running between the tables trying to help everyone at once.

Taking out my key, I unlock the door. I walk in, closing the door behind me. The place is eerily quiet. I can barely think of a time I was in the diner when Luke wasn't there. The place is clean and everything is in perfect order as if the place is expecting to open up tomorrow. And I wonder for a moment who did this. The place was open on Friday, I'm sure of it.

Do they know? Did Caeser and Clara open today not realizing? Are they going to open the place tomorrow? I noticed that the sign still reads 'open' and flip it over. Walking up to the counter, I lean over as if Luke were still there.

He always was.

I sit down at the counter, running the palm of my hand along the top. This place has been a part of my life since I was 26. My how the place hasn't changed. I smile to myself. I walk over to the wall by the kitchen, running my hand over the green paint. What a paint job. I remember Luke's face when he walked in after I repainted the place. He was pleased, I could tell. Luke was never one to admit that he was wrong though.

Noticing Luke's father's writing on the wall, I run my hand over that as well. Oh the memories. I know that day could have been something. If I would have let it, we could have started then. We could have had more time. We should have had more time!

I pick up a pen off the counter and underneath William's writing, I add my own. Luke and I, we are a part of the history of this place. We have been since the moment I walked in here all those years ago. Since the day I begged for coffee and came back for more.

Luke always remembers the story of when I came to get coffee that early July morning. But he forgets that in the afternoon I showed up again. This time I brought Rory with me. Something about the place had interested me and drew me back again. Also, I still hadn't gotten to the store to buy a coffee maker.

I walked in, coffee cup in hand, and walked up to the counter where Luke was fixing a toaster. Something I swear he did everyday. Luke noticed me and I suppose he remembered me from before because he commented that he had already given me coffee that morning. I insisted that one cup was not enough. Rory, who had climbed on the stool next to me, asked for a cup for herself. I swear Luke's mouth dropped open. He told Rory that she was going to be that height forever if she drank that coffee. But Rory was already tall for her age, so she just smiled and thanked him for the coffee.

I took that moment to introduce us to Luke and commented that he must either be William or Luke but I wasn't sure because the signs outside were a little misleading. He didn't crack a smile when he responded that this place was a hardware store when his father, William, was alive. But somehow that exchange didn't ruin us, our relationship. In fact, though he would complain, he always seemed to lighten up a little when we were there to eat or have coffee. Luke always says I won his heart the moment I met him that morning but I never told him that he won my heart that same afternoon. I had seen his soft side when he talked about William.

I stand and walk over to the coffee pot, just smelling it for a moment. All the memories hidden deep in this place come rushing back. And that's when the tears come. Because I realize, he's never going to see this place again.

I run up the stairs and into his old apartment, my sewing room. And I'm just so angry. Why did he have leave me? Why did he have to take that chance? He hates Manhattan, why did he go? He should have done everything he could to come back to me. If he really loved me, he wouldn't have died!

All the while, I screaming and crying and throwing things. At one point, I've picked up a hammer and smashed a mirror. In my state, I try to pick up the pieces, not realizing that I'm cutting myself in the process. And I just sit there on the floor, surrounded by pieces of my life, just sobbing. My husband left me. He's never coming back. And I can't stop thinking that if he had really loved me, he wouldn't have died. Oh Luke, how can you think I can get through without you?

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A/N: Again I'm going to thank you all for your reviews. I'm so glad you all like it, and I should admit that when I'm editing, I've cried too.

About Emily, I have to admit, I've never forgiven her for breaking up Lorelai and Luke, but there's something about her. I want to understand her.

Also I've tried to do Richard and Marty's POVs but I can't. Strangely I've found it hard to write from a guy's perspective. I've never been a guy so I guess I would never begin to understand the male mind.