A/N: Again, thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review so far, I really appreciate it. :)

Some of you have expressed problems with the characterization of Lorelai in this fic, and let me just say that I completely agree with you. But I also had problems with Lorelai in the seventh season, and what I'm trying to write is an extension of that. The premise for the story is that not everything was suddenly fixed by the kiss in the finale—which means that Lorelai would not have suddenly gone back to normal. Anyway, that's just my two cents; you don't have to agree with me. I hope you'll keep reading!

Chapter 4: Luke is Lonely Too

Mom, why don't we just talk about it Friday night at dinner?

Oh, so our Friday-night dinners are going to continue, then?

Well, we might as well. I've kind of gotten used to it.

Lorelai remembered her conversation with her mother at Rory's graduation party. Granted, she had never confirmed plans for Friday night dinner with her mother, but she was sure that, in Emily Gilmore's eyes, their conversation had been enough to establish her commitment to attend.

She had to show up, she didn't want to risk getting into another fight with her mother, especially when things were finally looking up in their relationship. It was still complicated, but at least not as hostile. Even if she was in no mood to deal with her parents, she didn't want her missing Friday night dinner to be construed as some sort of act of aggression toward her parents. She didn't feel like driving away two of the few people who were in her life right now. At least dinner would be something to distract her from her thoughts, since work certainly wasn't doing the trick.

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Luke sat at the kitchen table in his apartment, drinking a beer. As he looked around, he couldn't believe how much he had lost in the past year. He could have been happily living with Lorelai at her house; they could have been married by now. But he was here alone—a loner once again. He remembered a conversation he had once had with Lorelai:

I'm not used to someone expecting me.

Expecting you to. . .

Come home, do things, be with her.

Aw, most people would kill to have that in their lives.

I know, but I'm different, I'm a loner.

Oh no. No no. I don't want to hear about the romance of being a loner.

Some guys are just naturally loners.

Yes, lonely guys.

Independent guys.

Sad guys.

Maverick guys.

Lee Harvey Oswald.

John Muir.

The unabomber.

Henry David Thoreau

Every one of these sad and lonely guys.

He had never fully understood what she meant until now. He had always convinced himself of the romance of being a loner—living above his diner alone and shutting the rest of the world out. He didn't need them. But he needed her.

When he had been with her, he had been happy, probably the happiest he had been since before his dad died. And now that she was gone, the memories made the emptiness that much more unbearable. It was impossible now for him to understand why he had once loved his independent life. He wanted someone expecting him when he came home, someone to talk to when Taylor got on his nerves, someone to pester him for a fifth cup of coffee in the morning.

He heard the chaotic sounds of the lunch rush in the diner below—the people chatting, the plates clattering, the bell over the door ringing as people walked in and out. He was taking a much-needed break from it all. He couldn't stand when other people sat in her chair at the counter; he couldn't stand how his heart got caught in his throat every time the bell on the door jingled, hoping for one moment that it was her.

Why had she walked away? That was the one question he never seemed to be able to answer. She had whispered that she was sorry. Sorry for what? For the kiss? For leaving him? For not being ready to be in a relationship with him?

He finished off his second beer. He was about to reach for a third, but he stopped. This was ridiculous. Getting drunk wasn't going to make him forget her. It would probably just turn him into even more of an emotional wreck.

He couldn't stand being here, where everything reminded him of her. Everywhere he turned, a thousand new memories of her came flooding back, painfully reopening the fresh wound. He went to the closet and grabbed a duffel bag from the floor, as he began to fill it with extra pairs of clothes. As he packed, he remembered a conversation—or more like a shouting match—he had once had with Taylor a while back:

Fine. In case of a breakup, I'll move. I'll close up Luke's Diner, I'll go far, far away, and that way you won't have to choose, okay? Every section in town can be pink.

Can we have your word on that?

You can have my word and a couple of middle fingers on that, Taylor.

Luke would never consider living up to the rash promise he had made and moving out of Stars Hollow permanently, but he couldn't help but think that a little time away from the town would be good. He had lived in Stars Hollow his whole life and couldn't imagine living anywhere else, but, after recent events, he was beginning to feel suffocated.

It had been obvious to the townspeople, especially the regulars at the diner, that something was wrong. Lorelai, who had just begun to come into the diner once again, had stopped and now was only seen at Westons for her coffee fixes. Luke was in a gruffer mood than usual.

The concern of the townspeople was obvious, and they seemed to be unusually understanding. It seemed as if the whole town was sympathizing with him. Miss Patty would incessantly ask him if he was okay. Kirk didn't argue when he thought Luke had accidentally overcharged him one cent for his cup of coffee. Taylor asked if Luke was willing to use his diner to contribute to the new Stars Hollow summer carnival, but he quickly gave up when Luke threatened to throw him out of the diner. Luke couldn't remember the last time Taylor had given up on a subject after asking only once. He appreciated the concern of the town, but he couldn't stand knowing that everyone's eyes were on him. They all knew about the trouble he had gone to in order for Rory's goodbye party to be a success. And most had hoped that, after seeing this, Lorelai would finally come to her senses and take him back. Now he felt pathetic, as if the whole town knew he still loved her, knew that he had tried to get her back, knew that she had turned him down.

Maybe he would go on a fishing trip. Maybe he would take that boat trip he had planned with April—only this time, he would be alone. He wasn't exactly sure where he was going, but he had to leave. After packing his bag, he placed it by the door. He would talk to Caesar about running the diner when he was gone, and then he would leave.

A/N: I'll post the next chapter soon, I just need to work on it a little longer, but it's almost done.