He was home again, unusually early. He was sitting in his leather armchair, staring out over the darkening city. He mused over the fact that he hadn't been home early enough to see the sun set for ages. That hadn't happened since... well since she left him. He had been glad to be buried in his work and thankfully there was always work to be done for a lawyer. People always screwed up.
He had noticed though that work seemed to be not quite enough nowadays to keep him occupied. He would get fidgety by about four, and would glance at the clock every couple of minutes by five and by six he would be nervously tapping his feet on the ground behind his desk.
Some days he would be patient enough to wait for her phone call, her voice sheepish and quiet at the end of the line asking him if he was finished for the day. He would play it cool and humm and shuffle a few pieces of paper but then pretty much be out the door by the time they hung up, with her no doubt seeing through all the charade.
Other days he would be less patient and he would pick up the phone to call her, asking what she was doing and when she would finish, making up some excuse about a client canceling their meeting or him needing to take his mind off a case that he'd been working too much on.
You did have to keep up pretenses.
After all, it had been less than a week since they had been... back together.
He leaned back in the chair smiling involuntarily. That's what they were, right? Back together.
That's what it felt like. With her spending pretty much every night at his place since Paris' party. It had become a routine, eternally fragile and undetermined, but a routine nevertheless.
She would come over or they would meet for dinner or coffee, have a conversation about their day, with him always cautious and her always a bit holding back, but by the evening, when they would step out onto the wet and cool streets or would settle on the couch in his apartment, they would once again be magically closer, more intimate, with the two of them finding their way back to each other more and more easily with every night.
He didn't dare think about what this all meant. He didn't dare talk about it. No one knew about her being back in his life. It's not like he talked to anyone about his private life anyway. He was a bit of a loner, his true friends somewhere miles and miles away, only connected by memories of tougher times and morals that were printed into their souls a long long time ago. The people he met up in the city were not close friends. They were workmates, and drinking buddies and friends of friends, and most of them sort of disappeared during that half a year when he wouldn't answer phone calls and wouldn't oblige to invitations and wouldn't meet up with anyone willingly.
That might have been the toughest thing about loosing Rory when she left him: him realizing that she was his best friend. Someone that tested his strength, that brutally found his weaknesses, someone that managed to open him up and uncover parts of him that he didn't know existed, deep scars and childish hopes, forgotten memories and imagined goals.
All of those things were suddenly returning, with frivolous interactions about movies turning into conversations about life and death and everything in between.
Speaking with Rory Gilmore was like a freaking maelstrom, you never knew what muddy deepness would be uncovered or whether you would find yourself drowning in the next second.
Other things changed too.
The other morning he walked into the kitchen after returning from his dawn jog around the Reservoir and found Rory staring at an open cupboard.
He bit back a smile as he walked to the fridge making his presence known to her, taking out a bottle of water and taking a slow swig.
"You brought coffee" she said turning away from the open cupboard to face him, trying to hold back a brilliant smile. One of those smiles.
"It's instant" he replied with a shrug, as if proposing an argument.
"But it's coffee" she replied, cheekily.
"It's powder. You have to mix it with water and it tastes like shit" he smirked.
"But it's coffee" she repeated, her smile now glorious.
"You hate instant" he offered.
"It's still coffee" she said stepping closer to him, glowing.
"Shut up" he replied smirking and she burst out laughing, giving him a grateful kiss.
He smiled at the memory as he looked out over the city again.
He heard knocking on the door, fast and intense and he got up to open it.
She was standing in front of him, her hair damp with rain, her breathing slightly fast, her eyes strangely electric and her expression a bit unsure, but determined nevertheless.
He stood back, staring at her for a second, taking in her peculiar appearance, his eyes squinting as if he could see the reason for her disheveled aura.
"I quit my job" she said, her voice slightly shaking and he stared at her in shock.
She took a deep breath seeing his no doubt confused and shocked expression and walked past him, taking her coat off hastily.
He stared at the now empty entrance for a second blinking hard a couple of times.
"What?" he said, closing the door and turning to look at her.
She slumped down into the armchair he was just occupying, stubbornly staring out onto the city.
Her breathing was fast, her body seemingly on full alert mode, as if she was still on a joyride or recovering from a big fight.
"I quit the Times" she said, her words fast and strangely light.
He stared at her, his mind racing but not quite registering anything.
She sneaked a peak at him and then turned her focus back onto the skyscrapers, perhaps not pleased by the shock that still resided on his face.
"Rory..." he started, his voice unsure, full of questions "..why?"
"I wanted to" she replied, furrowing her brows as she kept her gaze on a distant spot on the horizon.
"But..." he started, but didn't know how to continue. What could he say? But you love it there? But it's your dream? But you are meant to work there?
He wasn't sure about any of those things anymore. And apparently she wasn't either.
He slumped down into the chair next to her.
There was silence. Undecided and weary and he took a deep breath again trying to organize the questions in his head so it wouldn't come out in a jumble of words.
"What happened?" he asked and his voice was quiet, conspiratory.
"I didn't like it" she replied, perhaps too easily.
"That's not true" he said, his voice calm, if a bit unsure.
She sighed.
"I wasn't happy there" she tried again, this time sounding more sincere.
"Why?" he asked and it felt like the stupidest question ever.
She shrugged obviously not knowing how to answer.
"You've had a couple of bad assignments, stories that didn't really interest you, but..." he stated his reasons.
"It's not just a rut" she cut him off "it's... I am not sure I want to do this anymore" she went on, her voice careful.
"Do what?" he asked, his voice slightly shaking, for reasons beyond him.
"Writing" she replied and it might as well have been attached to a thunderbolt, even though there wasn't a lightning storm outside.
He stared at her, not quite understanding. Rory saying that sounded unnatural, unacceptable. Rory without writing seemed like something unfathomable. When he thought of her, he thought of her in front of her laptop, typing away furiously. He thought of notes left on post-its, napkins, on the margins of books, on the side of newspapers. He thought of letters and emails and directions on the fridge secured by magnets. Rory and writing were inseparable. Rory was writing.
This sudden change in her, this decision, this determination was absurd. He knew this. This was familiar. This was... Lorelai. She reared her head inside her every now and then with this kind of sudden decisiveness, stubbornness.
He didn't quite now how to handle it. As he didn't quite know how to handle Lorelai.
They sat in silence staring out over the city.
"What are you going to do?" he whispered, not daring to look at her, willing himself to sound less worried, less shocked.
She turned to him, her face becoming more gentle, a smile gracing her features.
"Live my life" she chuckled lightly.
He studied her face, that did seem relieved somehow. It didn't ease his worries though. He felt his brows furrowed, his face troubled as she got out of her chair and climbed into his lap, her movements slow, dreamlike.
"First off" she said, in a hushed whisper "I am going to undress you."
He watched her eyes gleam and her lips purse up in a smirk as her fingers went to work on his shirt, freeing the buttons.
He felt his body react instantly, warmth flooding his chest and his arousal stirring and he hated himself for not being able to stay calm, to focus, to deny her. He knew that this was her plan in the first place, to distract him, to act as if this was not important, as if her quitting her dream job, the single thing she worked for for the past twenty years, was unimportant and something that can be discarded with a shrug.
He closed his eyes and felt his head drop back as her lips trailed small fiery kisses on his neck.
"Then I am going to have a nice evening with you" she whispered, her voice inexplicably light, worryless.
Through the aroused haze that started to settle over his brain, he wondered for a split second if he was discarded for the same inexplicable reasons. If they were all discarded and left behind for the same reasons. With no particular explanations. Just a flash of two neurons inside that dense head of a Gilmore girl.
"Stop obsessing" she whispered and he realized his whole body was tense, the only sign of his faltering protest.
"Rory" he sighed, trying to voice his concern, but he realized that the adjoined gentle shove to get her away from continuing her ministrations was not carried out. So she managed to move up to just under his ears, sending shivers down his back as her tongue darted out to lick his earlobe.
He cursed and she ground her hips into his as an answer. That was the last of it for him. His brain gave up trying to reason, his body once again shamelessly succumbing to her will. He felt his arms pull her lithe frame even closer to him, his apparent need making her moan out loud in appreciation.
"Now that's more like it" he heard her murmur and he dropped his head back as he felt her hands unbuckle his pants and reach inside to stroke him, making his breathing hitch.
He felt all his nerve endings fire up and his sensitive skin pulse under her rough touch and he laid back into the cool leather chair, giving her full control.
His mind registered the loss of pressure as she climbed out of his lap, but he couldn't quite open his eyes, giving her full and utter control.
He cried out uncontrollably as his erection was met with the warm and wet confine of her mouth and he forced his eyes open to see her kneeling between his legs, her face aroused and determined.
"Fucking hell, Mary" he cursed again, desperately fighting for breath.
He heard her moan contently as she swallowed him deep and he had to grip the arms of the chair as his head fell back, a loud moan breaking from his lips again.
"Jesus" he hissed.
His body started to tingle and go numb as she sucked him in a slow and sensuous rhythm, her fingers massaging his balls and moving up further lazily to stroke his ass.
He felt like he was going to cum in seconds and he suddenly grabbed her arms, pulling her up into his lap again, panting hard at the loss of contact.
"Rory" he pleaded, his voice barely coming out as he closed his eyes trying to steady his breathing.
He heard her chuckle lightly and felt her straddle him giving him a couple of moments to try to regain his composure.
She readjusted herself over him, guiding his throbbing erection into her glistening core and he felt his whole body rise and become weightless as she sank into him with a long sigh.
"God" he cried out panting hard once again as he felt her start a fast pace of thrusts on top of him.
"Baby" he tried a desperate plea once again "you gotta slow down."
He heard her release a pleased chuckle as she sank onto him in another firm thrust, continuing to ride him hard, her uninhibited moans filling the room.
He dissolved into the leather armchair, letting his head drop back as she took over. There was no point in resisting when she was in charge, when she was guided by some new found determination and motivation to be leading, to be on top. Literally and figuratively.
He opened his eyes to see her writhing form on top of him, her hair flying around her as she rode him with firm thrusts and loud moans, her eyes squeezed shut and her body electric.
His hands roamed her body, sliding over her breasts and the valley between them, her flat stomach and smooth hips and he felt his edge approach rapidly. He grabbed her hips and thrust up into her, hitting her firm and deep, sending her over, crying out his name in ecstasy and he let go as well, spilling his load into her warmness as he called her his own.
She collapsed on top of him, her sweaty body sticking to his damp skin, her hair falling all around them to cover them as a protective shield.
He felt the blood pump through his vessels, the pulse wave echoing in his ears as he tried to slow his breathing. His hands unconsciously roamed her body still, her ethereally smooth skin light under his touch. He opened his eyes to watch her recompose herself, brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen into her face. She looked so calm, so sure, so unaffected.
His heart still beat rapidly and he watched her, as if his searching eyes could decipher her and her actions, her mysteries. Even though he never really felt like he could.
"What? " she asked with a curious smile and he realized that he had been staring.
"Are you going to tell me what happened? " he asked, his voice quiet as the smile disappeared from her face.
She took a deep breath and climbed off of him.
He watched as she wandered towards the kitchen and disappeared, her silence telling him that she did not appreciate his consistence.
He sighed and stared at the city in front of him, now clad in darkness.
His body was spent, gently humming still from his release, but his mind was restless, as his thoughts raced to understand her motives.
He suddenly furrowed his brows as something occurred to him.
"Did somebody say something about you?" he asked.
She appeared from the kitchen, clutching a carton of ice cream he didn't even know he had.
"What do you mean?" she asked as she settled into the chair next to him, digging into the treat with a spoon.
"Did somebody tell you something bad?" he rephrased.
"Something bad?" she repeated turning to watch him, still not quite understanding.
He sighed, not knowing how to put it without offending her.
"Did somebody say you are not 'cut out for it'?" he asked cautiously and her eyebrows shot up in a sign of recognition.
"Oh" she shook her head "you think someone told me that I am not cut out to be a journalist, so I am fleeing?" she scoffed.
"It happened before" he said, his voice very small, as if he were afraid of the consequences of his words.
"That was different" she replied violently, getting up from her seat and walking to the huge window.
He didn't reply, her reaction telling him to wait it out instead.
"This is completely different" she huffed "God, nobody is ever going to let me live that down, are they?"
"Rory" he tried to calm her down, but didn't quite know how to continue.
He finally gathered the strength to get up, realizing that he had not yet readjusted his clothes and he suddenly felt silly, trying to explain to her how her sudden decisions were alike while zipping up his pants.
"I am just trying to understand what the hell is happening" he said, desperately trying to get through to her.
He stepped up to her, his arms caressing her and he felt her relax into his hold.
She turned around slowly and he took the ice cream from her hands, placing it on the table.
"Look" he tried again, taking a deep breath and he felt her eyes on his, listening intently.
"You have to understand how this looks to me" he started, choosing his words carefully "You come in here, declare you are quitting the Times and want to stop writing altogether and then blow my brains out when I try to coax you into some reasonable explanation."
His words spilled from his mouth and he saw her smile cautiously as she listened.
"Now, do not get me wrong, I love this type of reaction, really, but…" he stopped for a second, seeing her sigh wearily "but I am worried, okay? "
He watched her as she stood in front f him, her eyes sad and her expression suddenly tired.
"Rory" he whispered to her, his fingers brushing a stand of hair away from her eyes "I know you have made some hasty decisions in the past, like Harvard over Yale and quitting Yale and whatever, and I am not saying that they were wrong decisions…" he sighed, taking a moment before going on "but they all had a reason. A good reason. And I am just trying to know what it is. "
She looked up at him with a solemn face and he could tell his words hit their mark.
"I don't know what to say, okay?" she started, her voice weak, desperate "I don't know the reason, I wish I did, but all those times you mentioned… I never really knew the reason straight away, I just knew it was what I had to do at the time. So this might be hard to accept and even harder to understand… but, just bare with me okay? And be there for me… And I'll figure it out eventually, alright?" she finished, looking up at him with pleading eyes and his heart broke for her.
She looked so small, so shy and so lost and suddenly he believed everything she said, every annoying 'I don't know why' he ever endured from her, every fact that he had to accept without explanations.
"Alright" he whispered, pulling her into a hug.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
She sighed nervously as he turned off the ignition and he watched with a worried expression as she gathered her courage to get out of the car.
He felt his whole body protest against being here, his last memories of this place still way to vivid in his mind, but when she asked him that morning, whispering in the darkness of the bedroom, to come here with her, he knew he couldn't deny her.
She needed his support and that was that. He realized in that moment, her skin warm against his own under the covers, that it had to be all or nothing now. He was either going to be there for her and wait out the roller coaster ride that was Rory Gilmore's nth quarter life crisis, or he should have bailed. Long ago.
"Long lost daughter, is that you? " he heard Lorelai's voice and he gave Rory's hand one reassuring squeeze before they both got out from his car on the front lawn of the Gilmore-Danes residence that was decorated with skulls, giant spider webs and pumpkins.
"Hey Mom" Rory greeted her mother, walking up to the porch and he stayed behind, not quite knowing what to do.
He saw Lorelai fittingly clad in a witch costume, her face frozen in a shocked expression when she saw him and he waited out as the two women whispered frantically on the porch.
"Need a bit more time? I could go another round so you two can catch up" he smirked, motioning to the car behind him.
Rory turned around.
"You just want to flee" she scolded.
"Might be my last chance. Who knows where she put up the barbed wire" he replied, his words sarcastic and he snickered as Lorelai's eyes narrowed.
"Very funny" she said.
"What are you two doing here? I thought you had to work? " Lorelai turned back to Rory, who squirmed uncomfortably.
"I thought we could surprise you guys. And I wanted to see the Halloween hoopla" she said nervously.
"Oh my, it's going to be great. I got Luke to construct this fake guillotine, I can't wait till the kids see it. It's going to freak them out" Lorelai said with a huge smile on her face.
They walked into the house, where everything was dim and smokey with an occasional flash of light, huge fake spiders and skeletons covering the entrance as dramatic music played from the speakers.
"Luke, come see who's here" Lorelai called out and Luke appeared, his face covered in green paint with metallic pins sticking out from the sides of his head.
Tristan chuckled as he saw the shocked surprise upon seeing him there with Rory change back to sheer annoyance on the guy's face.
"Oh my god, you got him to dress up as Frankenstein? " Rory squealed in delight as Luke rolled his eyes.
"Look" Lorelai said triumphantly "Rory brought Tristan" her face in her signature 'I told you so' look.
"How are you, Luke?" Tristan shook the older man's hand.
"Stellar" Luke gritted through his teeth.
"Favorite time of the year for ya? " Tristan asked, under his breath.
"Yeah. Not so much" Luke replied, and the two shared a compassionate look that only those understood who ever had a Gilmore girl to call their own.
"Luke is just about done with lunch, you guys hungry? " Lorelai asked, steering them towards the kitchen.
"I could eat" Rory replied.
"Shocker" Tristan murmured, then smirked as Rory turned around to scold him with another look.
The two guys stayed behind as the girls walked towards the kitchen resuming the not so subtle whispering.
Tristan watched as Luke fidgeted nervously with his costume.
"About last time…" he started to explain, but Tristan cut him off.
"Don't worry about it."
"It was not my idea" Luke went on.
"Yeah, I figured" Tristan chuckled.
"I am glad it worked out, nevertheless" Luke said, clearing his throat nervously.
The two shared an uncomfortable silence, before Luke ushered Tristan after the girls.
The kitchen was just as artfully decorated as the rest of the house with large pots boiling and fake smoke rising from them.
"Check out the decor!" Lorelai pointed out the details, her eyes shining with pride.
"That's cool, Mom, I have to say, you really outdid yourself this year" Rory nodded in appreciation.
"Wait till you see David. He is so cute!" Lorelai squealed in delight.
"Where is he?" Rory asked as she seated herself at the table, pulling out a chair next to hers for Tristan.
"Taking a nap upstairs, but I've got a Chuckie costume with his name on it" Lorelai said in a sing-song voice.
"Oh my god Mom, that's sick!" Rory said in shock.
"Oh come on, it's perfect" she protested.
Tristan mused over the oddity of the conversation and the oddity of that house in general. It felt strangely familiar to be back at that table he had not occupied for the past half a year, with the two girls practicing their usual undecipherable rant and Luke serving up the food that seemed to come in extra large quantities.
He caught Lorelai staring at him with beaming pride as Luke sat down next to her.
"See? I told you operation 'lock 'em up' would work!" she declared.
Rory rolled her eyes nervously and Tristan just sighed, knowing better than to try to fight the insanity.
"That or they actually like each other" Luke pointed out, passing a bowl of potatoes to Tristan.
Lorelai scoffed in disbelief.
"Yeah, well sometimes, you need a little confinement to realize that" she countered.
"Or some insane person whose insanity you both agree on" Luke replied and Lorelai gasped in shock.
"You're just not able to admit I was right and it worked" she went on.
"And you're just delusional" came the reply.
"Well, you're…"
"I quit the Times" Rory's voice cut them both off. There was a sudden flash of light in the dimly lit kitchen and complete silence, apart from the music that played throughout the whole house.
Tristan watched as Luke and Lorelai stared at Rory in shock and he felt her hand reach for his under the table.
He squeezed it reassuringly and waited for Lorelai's wrath.
"Care to elaborate?" the woman asked, her eyes a dangerous blue he recognized from having seen Rory's angry expression one too many times.
Rory squirmed uneasily under the intense stare of her mother, shrugging as an answer.
"I haven't been happy with my job for a long time now and I decided that I wanted to do something else. So after much consideration, I gave them my notice and they accepted" she delivered the line that she no doubt had been formulating during the car drive.
Tristan sneaked a peak back at Lorelai and saw that the effect wasn't exactly what Rory was hoping for.
"What do you mean you haven't been happy? " she asked, and another flash of light filled the room.
"Luke, could you turn the damn fake lightning off?" Lorelai burst out.
Luke got up to flick a switch, turning the normal lighting on and they were now sitting in the lit up kitchen without any sudden flashes of light or dramatic music.
"Do you have another job offer? Something you like more? Like a smaller paper or a weekly or something?" Lorelai asked, her voice in disbelief.
Tristan watched as Rory took a deep breath.
"No" she answered.
There was silence again and Tristan started to miss the music.
"Well, do you at least have a plan. A list? An idea of what you are going to do? " Lorelai asked, her voice becoming more frantic.
There was silence again.
"I thought I could take a job at a coffee shop until I figure things out" she replied.
Tristan imagined another bolt of lightning in the silence that ensued, because the look on Lorelai and Luke's faces would have called for one.
He looked at Rory furrowing his brows as he contemplated the idea of her serving at a coffee shop. For starters, she was a clumsy server. Then there was the issue of asking the sheep to guard the cabbages, but whatever.
"Did you know about this?" Lorelai broke his line of thoughts and he turned back to look at her. She was as mad as he'd ever seen her, her blue eyes a swirling sea of emotions.
"She told me yesterday, after she quit" he replied, his voice calm.
"And you're fine with this?" she asked, her voice suddenly raised.
Tristan shot her a look.
"I respect her decision" he started, but was cut off by Lorelai's rant.
"This is ridiculous, Rory. This is not why you worked, why we worked for all those years" she spat out.
"Mom, calm down" Rory pleaded.
"No. You come in here and tell me you quit the job you worked for all your life to go and serve lattes to snotty New Yorkers" she ranted, her words spilling out of her mouth.
"Temporarily" Rory pointed out.
"You don't take a job like that with a Yale diploma temporarily. You go and work for an up and coming newspaper, or you write freelance or you go and take a freaking job at Vogue or go all hippy and start teaching back at Yale, but you don't go and serve coffee!"
Rory sighed, pushing her chair back as she got up to walk out of the kitchen.
"Do not walk out, I am not finished" Lorelai followed her.
Tristan sat in silence as Luke sat down across from him and both of them listened to the sounds of the argument coming from the living room. It was a whirlwind, when those two went at it. It was rare, but it happened from time to time. Tristan stared at a spot on the table and realized Luke was doing the same. He looked up and the two shared a knowing glance.
"Is she alright?" Luke asked and Tristan realized how gentle and worried his voice was, concern showing in his eyes.
"I don't know" he replied honestly "We just started talking again. I am not going to push her for an explanation if she's not ready to give one."
Luke nodded and the two resumed their silent waiting.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
He stood on the front lawn, watching the trick or treaters pass by in colorful costumes, their delighted chatter filling the street.
He heard the door open behind him and her footsteps approach.
He didn't turn around, staring at the people instead.
"She's gone trick or treating with Luke and David" Tristan said.
"He's too young still. I think Luke just likes to show him off" Lorelai replied and he could hear her trying, her voice immensely calmer than during her fight with Rory.
The two stood for a minute or so, staring at the small town's crazy inhabitants.
"I am worried about her" she finally said, her voice quiet, lost.
"So am I" he replied.
"You don't look worried" she shot back, her voice full of reproach.
He sighed turning to face her.
"Well, I am."
"She is making a mistake" she said, her lips pressed together.
"You don't know that" he pointed out, forcing his voice to remain calm.
"I do know that!" she protested and he sighed again, not wanting to fight.
"This is exactly like the time she quit Yale" she huffed.
"She needed that" he pointed out.
"That is bullshit" she shot back and he was silenced once again, knowing Lorelai rarely cursed.
"She is acting out. She is making hasty decisions. She goes and brakes up with you, then goes back and forth, before realizing she wants you and now she quits her job…" Lorelai went on and he listened dutifully "it's like she is unhappy in her life and she doesn't know what she wants, so she tries to sabotage everything."
He listened quietly, not sharing his own views.
"She didn't solve it by the breakup, so now she goes and quits her job" she huffed.
He chuckled catching the hidden illusion.
"Why don't you say what you want to say, Lorelai, I think we are past the point of pleasantries" he said with a wry smile.
She sighed, her expression annoyed.
"It's obvious she is unhappy with her life and she has been for a while" she started her reasoning.
He listened curiously, waiting for the blow.
"It's also clear that she doesn't know what she is unhappy with…" Lorelai went on.
"But you are thinking it's me rather than her job" Tristan finished her sentence.
"That's not what I was going to say" she retorted.
"But it's what you think" he said with a wry smile.
"I don't know what to think anymore. You are back together, she should be happy, but she is not" Lorelai said, her voice sounding desperate.
"And the idea that she could be unhappy with her job is just unfathomable to you? " Tristan asked, his voice sour.
"She wanted this job all her life, she wanted you for what?…" she said.
"Oh my god" he turned away to pace on the lawn "I cant believe we are back here again!"
"If you can give me one explanation, if you can tell me she is going to be happy leaving behind something she worked for so long…" Lorelai bargained.
"I can't tell you that Lorelai. It seems to be a trial and error thing for her nowadays" he replied bitterly.
She sighed.
"I don't see where this is all coming from. She was fine and happy until…" she said, her voice sounding desperate once again.
"Until I asked her to marry me" he finished bitterly.
She didn't reply but he could tell that's what she was thinking.
The two stood in silence as the cold night air around them settled, like after a storm. He felt his chest heave as though he had been running for hours and the uncertainty in his stomach threatened to take over.
"I know Rory" she started, her words cautious.
"No, Lorelai, you don't. Not really" he cut her off and the determination surprised even himself.
She looked up at him in shock.
"You knew her. You did. You were closer than any mother and daughter I know, you are still, but she is not your little girl anymore. She is not living in that small bedroom, pinning up Harvard banners and idolizing Amanpour. She grew up and she went through some tough times and she had a life outside of this town and outside of what you know about her. You are going to have to accept the fact that she has her own thoughts and own emotions and she doesn't necessarily share them all with you."
He stopped his rant and stared at Lorelai, her expression undecipherable.
"I don't know what makes you so sure that you know her" she countered.
"I just do. I know she is unsure of herself sometimes, even if the world and everyone and you think she succeeds at everything she ever started. I know she says she is doing her laundry every Thursday night but she is actually just happy to disappear with a fucking book for a couple of hours. I know she sneaks in a couple of carrots into the refrigerator, because like it or not, she actually enjoys them. I know she misses David like crazy but she freaks out about having a baby of her own every time she comes back from Stars Hollow. And I know she has stories in her that she writes down on pieces of paper whenever the thought occurs to her, but she is not ready to accept they are good. I know all of the things you don't see anymore, Lorelai. And you should be fucking glad I am there to see them. I am the best thing that ever happened to her."
He finished his monologue, the last words ringing dramatically in the air as Lorelai stood stunned.
He turned around, the house, the mother, the whole fiasco suddenly too much to handle. He let his feet carry him away from the stunned woman, still standing on the front lawn. He walked through the streets of that crazy town, the cold night air filling his lungs and calming his nerves and he felt powerful, determined, sure. His words reassured himself and he knew what his role was and what he wanted. He just hoped she would know as well.