Chapter 2: Of Life and Love

The sun was shining pleasantly and it seemed so unfair to Rory. The day shouldn't have been so perfect. Not when she was standing near her mother and grandmother, watching as they lowered her grandfather's casket into the ground, slowly and agonizingly. She wanted to scream and stop them from taking him away but she couldn't move. So she remained rooted, listening to the quiet sobs of her grandmother and the happy chirping of the birds.

Not fair. Life – and consequently death, was never fair. And she hated it.

When she couldn't see the top of the mahogany casket anymore a wayward tear slipped down her cheek. Immediately a strong hand clasped hers, the thumb stroking her knuckles in an intimate, comforting gesture.

Tristan.

Her unwavering rock. Her brave knight. Her favorite mistake. Always there when she needed him, never when she wanted him.

She gripped his fingers tightly and wiped her tears away. The last words of the funeral rite echoed in her head and she felt him nudge her as his hand slipped away. Without looking at him, she followed the other Gilmore women to the pile of dirt by the side of the grave and waited her turn to throw it on Richard's casket. Lorelai led Emily away, crying and Rory stood at the edge of her grandfather's grave, with some dirt between her fingers. She flicked her wrist and watched in fascination as the dirt spilled and landed on the wood six feet below. Her lips parted slightly, her words coming out like a gush of air. "Goodbye, Grandpa."

The next ten minutes were spent in arms of friends and family, who offered their condolences and then walked away from the cemetery, to their cars and their lives. Her father held her the longest, saying nothing but offering her the comfort and protection she desperately sought. Lane Kim, her longest and best friend kissed her on the forehead and told her she was in town as long as Rory needed her to be.

"Hey," Lorelai said softly as she appeared by Rory's side. "We're going back to Grandma's now."

She nodded. "Okay. In a minute."

Her mother looked up at the blond man behind her. Tristan's voice was smooth and reassuring. "You go on, Lorelai. I'll bring her over."

Once everyone was gone, Rory turned to him. "There's a small lake on the other side of the church. It's very nice, quiet and very pretty."

"I know," he said gently. "Let's go."

They walked past the graves in silence, the birds and the soft crunching of grass beneath their shoes the only sounds that could be heard. He wasn't touching her and it made her feel comfortable. Safe. Brave.

She didn't realize that they had reached their destination until she saw their reflections in the shimmering water below. They stood their, side by side not saying a word and letting the warm spring breeze rustle through the trees and their clothes.

After what seemed like an eternity had passed, she broke the silence. "He was happy."

"Was he?"

She nodded and pushed her hair away from her face. "Yeah, he was content with his life. The other day, I was talking to him and I asked him what he would like for his birthday. It's in two weeks. He told me that he had everything. I didn't really get what he meant then. Now I do."

A perfect eyebrow arched. "Yeah?"

"Grandpa had done everything he ever wanted to do. He had married the only woman he ever loved, was reunited with his daughter, watched his granddaughter graduate from Harvard…what else could anyone really ask for, right? Life is a series of moments and if you have a lot of good ones then you can say you lived a pretty good life, right?" She looked up to gauge his reaction and he smiled slightly, understanding completely like he always did.

Tristan ran a hand through his hair. "Richard did have a lot of wonderful moments. I'd say your grandfather led a pretty wonderful life."

She sighed and gazed into the water again as a goldfish whizzed by underneath the crystal surface. "Wherever he is, I know he's happy. Someday, I hope I can be as half as happy he was when he took his last breath."

She felt his fingers twine with hers again, and she watched them, standing there through their watery image. He nodded slowly and expelled a breath. "Someday."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Does she know that you told him?" Lane asked Jess as they stood in a corner of the living room in Emily's house a cup of tea in their hands. "Seriously Jess, what in the world were you thinking? She doesn't need any more stress!"

"I know what she needs and doesn't need," Jess snapped irritated. He wondered why everyone was ragging on him for calling Tristan. It wasn't like he wanted to or anything but he knew that the other man understood Rory in a way no one else did and for that, she would have appreciated his presence.

Ironically, the hotheaded Paris intervened. "Now is not the time to argue."

"Right," Lane said with a firm nod. "Sorry. Where is she anyway? Wasn't she coming with Lorelai?"

"She stayed back," the blonde explained taking a sip of her tea. "Tristan's with her."

On cue, Rory and Tristan walked in together. Lane sighed and muttered under her breath. "When he's here he sticks to her like glue but when he's gone he doesn't even call. Nothing is ever simple when it comes to those two and she's always the one who gets hurt. I don't like it."

"None of us do," Jess acknowledge as he watched Tristan rest his hand on Rory's shoulder, standing by her side as if he belonged there. A few years ago, Jess would have thought that the intense anger he felt for Tristan DuGrey was based on jealousy. Now he just hated the fact that the man had an inexplicable control over Rory and that somehow, she let herself get trampled over by him time and again. "But she needs him. And he knows that. That's probably the reason he - "

"No. He's a lot of things," Paris interrupted quietly. "But he's not that cold to use her like that. I know Tristan. There has to be something more going on than we know."

Lane sighed again. "Whatever it is, I hope they work it out this time around. I don't know about Tristan, but Rory can't take another heartbreak."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Can I get you anything Grandma?" Rory asked as the older woman rested in her bed, later that night. "Water?"

"Water would be nice," Emily replied absently closing her eyes. "Thank you, Rory."

Rory quickly filled her grandmother a glass of water from a nearby pitcher and then walked towards the door. Turning around she offered a small smile. "Mom and I are spending the night. If you need anything, just let us know okay?"

"Alright," Emily replied and pulled her comforters over her body. "Goodnight Rory."

"G'night Grandma," she replied and closed the door behind her. She sighed and then leaned against the door, feeling exhaustion run through her system and pool in her feet. Glancing down, she realized that she was still wearing her heels. She cursed whomever it was that invented high heels and bent down to remove them. She let out a pleased moan. "God, so much better."

She loved the feeling of the carpet under her swollen feet as she trudged down the hallway and made her way back to the living room. She rounded the corner and was surprised to see Tristan sprawled on the couch, tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck and a glass of brandy in his hand. He straightened up as she approached and sat down beside him. "Hey."

"Hi," she answered softly. "I thought you would have left by now."

He stared at the rim of his glass. "I was going to go but Lorelai offered me lodging and I would prefer sleeping here than facing my father at home. So if you don't - "

"I don't mind," she confirmed quickly. "I just – I'm surprised you're here, that's all."

He furrowed his brows for a second in confusion but then relaxed his face in sudden understanding. "Jess called me. I thought you knew. I thought you wanted…sorry, my mistake."

Rory realized that they had gone from being comfortable around each other to distant again in a matter of minutes. Like they always did. She wanted to tell him that she thought of him first, that she wanted to call him and that she was grateful beyond belief that he was there – but something stopped her. Instead, she smiled slightly. "No it's not your fault. Jess has a way of butting in like that."

He ran a hand through his hair and finished his brandy in one big gulp. "Maybe I should just go home. It doesn't make a difference as to where it is I'm unwanted, right?"

"I didn't say you were unwanted," she protested, hating herself for not telling him the truth and hating him for not understanding her intentions regardless. He stood up quickly and she followed, putting a hand on his arm to stop him. "I didn't say that."

"There are a lot of things you haven't said, Rory," he answered promptly, almost bitterly. "That's not the point."

"Would you mind telling me what is the point, then?"

He stared at her for a second, his body tense and rigid and then he let out a frustrated breath. "It doesn't matter. This isn't the time."

Before Rory could retort, the sound of soft laughing demanded her attention and she looked over her shoulder to see Lorelai standing on the terrace with Christopher a sad, almost reluctant smile on her face. For a minute, Rory forgot that she was in the middle of a standoff with Tristan and felt her lips curl into an appreciative smile. Without thinking, she shared her thoughts. "He can still make her smile. It's funny after all this time, I still – I know I probably shouldn't -"

"You still wish they were together?" Tristan asked softly.

She looked up at him guiltily. "I love Luke. And my mom loves him very much. And I've accepted that. I just wanted so much for them to be together…God, I'm acting like a naïve child."

"No you're not," he countered softly and then hitched his head in her parent's direction. "You've always wanted them together. It's hard to let go of something like that. I bet it was hard for them to let go of each other."

"And harder to stay together," she finished and met his eyes. "I get that."

She wasn't sure if her tone had come out bitter or not, but they fell into that uncomfortable, unbearable silence again looking at each other as if they wanted to say something each other but it just scared them too much to let on to their feelings, just a bit.

"Hey honey," Lorelai said as she came through the glass door, Christopher right behind her. Rory's parents stopped abruptly sensing the tension in the room and looked between the two young adults, as if waiting for one of them to break it. "Everything okay?"

Tristan cleared his throat and pocketed his hands. "Everything is fine, Lorelai."

Rory blinked and then smiled in agreement. "Yeah. I was just going to go and show Tristan to the guest room."

"That's okay," Christopher interjected. "I'm staying here too. I'll show him. You go and rest, honey. You've had a long day."

After the two men left, Lorelai turned to her daughter with a sheepish smile. "This is okay with you, right?  I didn't think he'd accept."

Rory feigned puzzlement. "Why would I mind? I'm glad he's here."

Lorelai nodded knowingly and threw her arm around her daughter's shoulder as they climbed the stairs. "Just be careful, okay? I know how you get when he's around."

She opened her mouth to argue but then closed it again, knowing it was futile when her other was right. Silently, the two women made their way to the end of the hallway on the first floor and went into their respective bedrooms after wishing each other goodnight.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Tristan lay in his bed, wide awake his thoughts drifting back to Rory and every single conversation he had with her. One thing was for sure whether they were either quiet, reflective conversations after a pleasant evening together or a heated one after their lovemaking they were difficult to analyze.

It seemed like no matter how hard they tried their meetings ended in heated arguments or passionate sex – neither of them resolving anything between the two.

He recalled her words from the afternoon.

Life is a series of moments and if you have a lot of good ones then you can say you lived a pretty good life, right?

From the beginning their relationship had been a series of good and bad moments that were so muddled up in his head, he was wondering if they were beginning to forget the good and stay focused on the painful, bad ones.

"Your boyfriend's waiting."

"He's not my boyfriend. I hate him."

That summer was one of the worst summers of his life and it was because of her. Back then, he had been so sure of who he was, the role he played and she came into his life – making him question everything and just as he was beginning to appreciate her for it, like her for it – she hurt him beyond repair.

Maybe that's why they still couldn't get a long well. Maybe he still resented her for forgetting about what she said and expecting them to move on from there to wherever it was they were now.

She had never thought much of him, anyway.

"You make it impossible for anyone to be nice to you. No wonder you had to join our group. Anyone who had suffered through the experience of going out with you would absolutely know better."

He knew it was stupid and that they were young but somehow, he couldn't erase those words from his memory – even after the good times they had shared.

"Hello Mary," he greeted her as she opened the door of her dorm room, holding a single red rose in his hand. He extended his hand and she smiled up at him, taking it from him, her fingers brushing against his. "For you."

She giggled, looking stunning in her modest blue dress. "This is so clichéd."

"The rose or me?"

She scrunched her nose. "How are you a cliché?"

He grinned. "You know, the whole startlingly handsome suitor thing."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't know the cliché included a humongous ego."

"That's just a Tristan DuGrey bonus."

She laughed as they headed down the hall of her dorm. "You're so full of it."

"And you wouldn't want me any other way," he returned evenly.

She looked up at him sincerely, blue eyes wide with amusement and lips stretched in a pretty smile. "No, I wouldn't."

Tristan turned to his side, punching the pillow underneath his head and letting out a troubled sigh. Life with Rory Gilmore in it was definitely complicated.