Chapter Six
"We . . . didn't just talk. We . . . ."
Luke felt an icy cold knife go through his heart. And he found he couldn't swallow.
What was she saying? Surely not that she and HE had --- slept together!
But that guilty look on her face! And in her eyes! Everything was telling him that she had . . . .
NO! She wouldn't! She couldn't! Not to me! And certainly not with – HIM! But … but she did.
She DID!
Luke could feel his heart beating with anger, and disgust, and – hatred! He didn't know who the hatred was directed at, but suddenly he knew he had to get away. He could no longer look into those cheating, deceitful eyes of the woman he loved.
He thought she said something as he stormed out of the back door, but he couldn't remember. And he didn't remember climbing into his truck and squalling the tires as he left. And he didn't remember driving to the diner. And he didn't remember slamming the truck door so hard the window shattered.
The next thing he DID remember was sitting at the table in his apartment, a beer in his hand, and wishing he had something stronger -- bourbon, scotch, something … anything.
How long he sat there, imagining, fantasizing, and hating his thoughts, he didn't know. But when he went after his tenth beer and there were no more in the refrigerator, he threw himself down on his bed and let himself fall asleep.
Luke woke six that evening. The supper rush would be in full swing, but he didn't care.
As the events of the day came flooding back to him, he felt himself becoming nauseous, but whether it was because of the beers he had drunk on an empty stomach, or because of what Lorelai had done to him, he didn't know. And didn't care.
That was it. She made her choice. She obviously wanted HIM and not me. So be it.
"Got along without you before I met you, gonna get along without you now."
The words to that old country song played over and over in his head, but they brought little comfort.
If he had let himself be completely honest with himself, her would have realized that the love he had for Lorelai was what he had waited for his whole life. It totally eclipsed the passion he'd had for Anna, was more than his love for Rachel, and was more than what he thought he felt for Nicole.
But his pride, his ego, his self-esteem were completely crushed by the betrayal of the woman he had expected – wanted, to spend the rest of his life with.
Luke lay on the bed, only vaguely aware of the sounds of the diner drifting up from below – forks and knives as they clattered against the plates, Lane yelling out orders to Caesar, him yelling back to her, the faint metallic ring of the cash register. He heard it all, but it made no impact on him. After the anger and disgust and shock had run their course, he was numb. He was past caring about anything, or anyone.
Gradually the sounds of the supper rush died down to almost nothing as the sun began to set. He would have laid there all night, but he had to get up, all the beer he had drunk had finally filled his bladder to the point of pain.
Not turning on any lights, Luke made his way to the bathroom, relieved himself, then turned on the shower, stripped and got in. And only when the hot water ran out did he turn off the water and get out. He barely dried himself, then went straight back to bed without dressing. And after a while, he fell asleep again, not to wake up until five the next morning, when he got up, dressed and went down stairs to open the diner for business.
"Dad called while you were in the shower."
"What did he want?"
"I didn't answer it, I just let him leave a message."
"What did he say?"
"You should call him. He wants to talk about what happened."
Lorelai nodded but made no move toward the phone.
"Mom?"
"Yeah, Babe?"
"Are you and Dad . . . ?"
"Are we what?"
"I don't know – getting back together? Never going to speak again?"
"Neither. Your dad and I could never make it together. I knew that twenty years ago. And we'll talk again, but not right now. Not until Luke and I . . . if Luke and I . . . I don't know. I can't think that far into the future. I'm just going to take each day as it comes. But whatever happens, it won't be any time soon."
"I almost went to Europe, either Paris or London, it didn't matter. I was SO mad at you, and Dad."
"I know you were. And you don't know how sorry I am you found out. If I had been thinking straight I never would have gone to your dad's. And I DAMN sure wouldn't have started drinking tequila."
Lorelai caressed her daughter's hair.
"So what stopped you?"
"Grandma, and Logan."
"Together?"
"No. Originally I went to Dad's to see if he would pay for me to go to London. But that didn't work out. Then I called Grandma to see if she and Grandpa could book me a flight with them to Paris, but I was too late. She told me about wanting to buy the house for you and Luke and that you said the wedding wasn't going to happen. And she told me I should stay here and do what I could, to help."
"You didn't tell her about your dad and me, did you?"
"No, but I did tell Logan when he called. I wanted him to buy me a ticket, but he said I should let you tell me your side of it first. And if I still wanted him to, he'd arrange for me to catch a plane tonight."
"So what did you decide?"
"I think I'll stay here for a while, a couple of weeks, maybe longer."
Lorelai reached over and pulled Rory into a warm, loving hug.
T B C