-1A/N: I've been working on/off on this fic for over a year now. Okay, so, I've been working on all my active fics for over a year now, but this one is my baby. Pathetic as it is, this is the most reviews I've ever gotten. I'm really hoping for one-hundred reviews, so please. I mean, I don't mind you not bothering, but your cooperation on this point would be so appreciated. I even like critic reviews. So please?
Chapter Eleven: Breathe Today
Rory woke up fully clothed. Her impress-the-editor make-up was running all the way down her face, and she was pretty sure she even smelled like the tears she'd released the afternoon before. She sighed and sat up. She was in Tristan's apartment in the bedroom, but she was alone. She shook her head, remembering that Tristan had given her the bed without trying to take advantage of her, as much as she had protested (to both being given the bed and not being taken advantage of, truth spoken.) If Tristan had been that much of a gentleman back in their high school years, Rory might've had a tougher time staying with Dean.
"Might've?" Rory said, laughing a little. She'd liked him, maybe not loved him, but definitely had feelings fro Tristan back then. She had had a boyfriend, then, however. Even now, she didn't regret not leaving Dean for Tristan. He hadn't been the right guy for her, back then. She paused in her musings to wander into the living room area, where Tristan was still asleep on his couch. Rory smiled a little. She went back to his bedroom where she had an extra outfit kept for when she unexpectedly stayed the night (which happened often enough). She went to the bathroom and got into the shower. Letting the hot water wash over her, she reflected over the past few months.
First, the novel. Sarah Javerson was going to be published in six months. The release party was going to be in New York City, and for the first ten weeks after that she'd be doing a promotional book tour across the States, with an undetermined European tour possible afterwards. This brought mixed feelings to the girl. All the traveling, not to mention the credit for something she wasn't even sure she was glad about happening. A paycheck was a paycheck, but a YA novel had been her last idea of a successful career.
Second, Tristan. He was more than just a boyfriend, she knew that much. In the three months they'd dated, she automatically felt more connected to him than anyone she'd ever been with, in any connotation of the words. They were so different, and yet she knew that he was exactly what she needed, possibly in a life partner.
Quite possibly in a life partner.
To be honest, it did scare her. After her relationships with Dean, Jess, and most of all Logan, she wasn't sure she could commit and risk losing it all. It sounded cliché, but it was genuine.
Her mother. She'd re-formed the bond between them, and now they were talking as close as ever. But there was still the residual disappointment, which resulted in guilt. And though she knew that that guilt was not born without cause, she wasn't sure she was strong enough to do anything about it. Because doing something about it would mean going back to Yale, and facing being a year behind, and inevitably meeting Logan again.
Logan. She would be naïve to tell herself she was completely over him. Though she had been the one to end the relationship, it had mostly been to protect him from her troubles. The knowledge that there would never, could never be anything more between them came as a harsh blow, even now.
Still, she had Tristan, and in the end didn't need any other relationship. That was the realization that brought about a decision that we will later address.
She was finished washing herself, so she got out, towel-dried her hair, and redressed. She went back into the living room and sat in a chair facing Tristan's rest place.
"Tristan, I need to talk to you." She said. He was a light sleeper, so he was immediately awake and blinking at her.
"Rory... What time is it?"
"Ten thirty. I need to talk to you," she repeated.
"Uhm, okay?" He said sleepily. Rory sighed. Well, if he wasn't awake now, he would be soon. It was probably a bad idea this early in the relationship, but Rory was set on asking. And if you haven't guessed already, this is what she asked:
"Tristan, will you marry me?"
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Chapter Eleven: The Reveal
"Sarah," a blonde girl Sarah barely knew hissed at her. "Note."
That said, the blonde unceremoniously flung a folded piece of paper at her. Sarah rolled her eyes and opened the note.
Sarah,
Are you still with Tristan?
Leslie
She frowned and scribbled an affirmative, and threw the note back at the blonde, hitting her square between the eyebrows.
"Back to Leslie, please." She said as though nothing had happened. Within a minute or so the note came back.
Well. If you want to, you can meet me for lunch. I don't care whether you do or don't, though.
Sarah smiled. Typical Leslie, not being able to apologize.
I guess. She wrote in reply.
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School had gone by in a daze for Sarah that day. Her curiosity overwhelmed even her happiness at being reunited with her best friend. When she finally got home, she was eager to know what her family needed t address with her. But how to bring it up? 'Yeah, I was eavesdropping earlier and I heard you mention...' wasn't really the most brilliant plan. Her father, however, saved her the trouble. As soon as she walked in the door, her mother's voice called to her from the living room.
"What do you need?" Sarah asked, feigning boredom.
"Sit, Sarah." Her father instructed. With a huff, Sarah did as she was told.
"Sarah, your father and I have important news."
"Don't drag me into this. It was your decision, ultimately." her father said, holding up his hands in a don't-shoot-me fashion.
'Way to support your wife, Daddy,' Sarah couldn't help but think.
"Sarah, you know that for some time now I've been looking for a house or a large apartment for us out of town." Her mother began in the voice she used to talk to her associates over the telephone. Sarah's heart sunk.
"Well," Lucinda Javerson continued, "I've found a place. In a town in Connecticut."
"Wait, what? We're moving?" Sarah asked, staring.
"We're moving." Her mother nodded. She didn't look happy, but she wasn't at all sad, either.
"But... Terrance," Sarah whispered.
"I'm sorry, Honey. You two can still try a long-distance relationship if you like, but we're leaving in two months. The end of this semester."
"Couldn't I stay here? With Grandma?" Sarah reasoned.
"No. You're my daughter, Sarah." Lucinda said, sounding a little more offended by the suggestion than she should've been.
"But, mom!" Sarah wailed at the injustice of it all. "Your business! You can't leAve your business!"
"Sarah, it's a done deal. We've bought the house. I'm starting a new branch down there, and Maddie's coming down for the summer to hire and train suitable chefs."
Sarah could barely believe what she was hearing.
"Connecticut..." she repeated hazily, before fainting.
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I got all these reviews saying things like Lucinda was pregnant, and someone else suggested divorce, and there was a birth father mystery suggestion, and my friend even suggested cancer, and those would have all been dramatic and interesting plot twists, but I went with the mundane choice of relocation. Can you believe how trivial? I was surprised that after chapter four of "Sarah", no one guessed. Ah, well, it's been sadly forever, so I guess people have forgotten. Please R&R, only two more chapters to go!
