I would like to apologize for this delayed update. But in all fairness, it was not my fault. The blame lies with the brilliant and talented J.K. Rowling. In preparation for the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, I had to re-read all six books before the midnight release of Deathly Hallows, which for the record is beyond amazing. With that said...
Happy reading!!!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 22 – Closure
He called her Mary. She smiled. There was a time not too long ago when that particular nickname made her stomach churn. But now, after the revelation filled conversation with Joanna last night, hearing it again—from him—felt nice, almost comforting. Not to mention the fact that it did wonders to break the tension between them.
"I really appreciate you coming to get me." She heard the surprise in his voice when she called him that morning. And after everything that happened between them the past several weeks, she wouldn't have blamed Tristan for not immediately complying with such a sudden request. Yet, here he was, eyes full of genuine concern, smiling despite the awkwardness between them. Without so much as questioning her motives or intentions, he'd driven down to a police station to pick her up just because she'd asked him to. "Thanks, Tristan."
He smiled down at her. He'd always loved the way she said his name. "It's not a problem. I'm just glad you called." As he steered her toward the exit, he let his hand fall to her lower back in a very familiar move.
"I didn't know who else to call," she answered softly.
"Oh," he said somewhat hurt by that admission.
"No," she added quickly, seeing the disappointed look in his eyes. "I didn't mean it like that." She stopped walking and turned to face him. "I just…what I meant was…I was on my way back here to see you so…when all of this happened…you were the only person I thought to call."
"Oh," he said with a satisfied nod. "Ok. And what exactly is the 'this' that happened? Like I said, I never thought I'd ever be picking you up at a police station."
Rory blushed, both embarrassed and a bit amused at how her day was going so far. "It's a long, and somewhat ridiculous, story."
"I've got nothing but time, Mary. I want to hear all about it." Tristan looked down at her, his eyes studying her face. "You look hungry," he said knowingly.
Rory's brow wrinkled as she thought about that comment. He knew her so well. "Actually, I'm starving." With the crazy morning she'd had, she didn't realize until that very second that she hadn't eaten anything since the day before. "I haven't even had coffee yet."
Tristan chuckled, looking more surprised than she did after making such a statement. "Wow," he said. He checked his watched and added, "So this is what happens when you're not fed and/or properly caffeinated? What happened? Did you hold-up a police officer demanding he hand over his coffee and donuts?"
She smiled. This was the Tristan she missed.
"I'm glad I always had enough sense to provide you with copious amounts of caffeine and empty calories."
"Well, you always did have excellent self-preservation skills."
He laughed. "Come on, Mary," he said walking toward his car. "Let's get you fed."
It was odd, how easily they both slipped back into the comfortable friendship that once meant the world to them. For now, they silently agreed to ignore the giant elephant in the room.
Tristan opened the passenger side door of a sleek black Mercedes and waited for Rory to climb into the seat. Making his way to the driver's side, he buckled his seat belt, and double checked that she had too, before starting the engine.
"Nice car," commented Rory.
"Thank you. I like it. Graduation gift from Grandfather."
"What no Porsche?" she teased.
"It's in Boston," he said calmly. At the quizzical expression on Rory's face, he added, "My Porsche, I left it up in Boston. Figured since I was staying at Grandfather's, it was only polite to drive down in the car he bought me."
"But you have a Porsche too?"
"Graduation gift from my dad."
"What color is it?" she asked glancing at his profile. His similarity to Logan, in looks, style, attitude and personality, really was uncanny.
"Blue."
"Of course," she said quietly. "To match your eyes, I'm sure," she kidded. Knowing what lay ahead of them, Rory was determined to keep things light for as long as possible.
He smiled, fully aware and fully appreciating her efforts to keep the conversation comfortable. "It's more of a dark blue," he said, playing along. He took his eyes off the road for a split second to meet hers. As blue met blue, he added, "My eyes are really light."
Rory looked away from him and stared straight ahead. She did not need to be reminded that his eyes were light blue. No matter what happened between them, no matter how things ended today, Rory knew she would always remember the exact shade of blue that were his eyes. Tristan DuGrey's smoldering baby blues had always been a weakness for her. "I remember," she muttered.
An awkward silence engulfed the car, but before it got to unbearable, Tristan asked, "So what are you in the mood for?"
"What?" she asked taken slightly aback by what she thought was an inappropriate question.
"To eat," he clarified with a small smirk. "What are in the mood to eat?"
"Oh," she said blushing furiously. "Anything is fine. Whatever you want. Just as long as there's coffee."
Tristan kept his eyes on the road, doing his best not to smile at her very noticeable blush. He missed this, their easy banter. He missed her smile, the sound of her voice, the way she laughed. He missed the way she blushed at the slightest impropriety. He missed a lot of things about her. Shaking these thought out of his head, Tristan silently reminded himself of what he was doing there and willed himself not to let his feelings for her get in the way of that. So in the interest of releasing the tension that was quickly filling his Mercedes, he pulled into the parking lot of the first restaurant he spotted—a diner. They both exited the car quickly, eager to leave the confined space.
Back at Martha's Vineyard, Kevin awoke to one of the worst hangovers in recent memory. It was just after eight, fairly early for him, especially considering how much comfort he found at the bottom of a bottle the night before. However, he wanted to make sure he was up before Rory, and although his sister was far from an early riser, Kevin knew, no matter how angry at him she was, Rory's stomach wouldn't allow her to remain locked in her bedroom for much longer.
Crawling out of bed, he reached for some clothing piled on a chair. Unfortunately, even the simple task of throwing on a shirt seemed too daunting in his weakened state. He desperately needed hydration…and a taco. Without giving it much thought, he exited his room, clad only in a pair of boxers, to search for some water and something greasy to soak up the remaining alcohol in his system.
With his eyes half shut, he entered the kitchen, not noticing he wasn't alone until he the rich aroma of brewing coffee hit his senses. It was only then that he realized Joanna was already seated at the kitchen table.
"Morning," he muttered his throat dry and scratchy.
She merely nodded, barely glancing at him.
Kevin, hungover though he was, could feel the cool breeze of the cold shoulder he was getting and decided to start his day of amends with the girl in front of him. "Hey, Joanna," he began, his voice still scratchy.
She brought her coffee cup to her lips and shifted her eyes toward him, but didn't say a word in response.
"About last night."
Still no response other that a raised eyebrow.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you," he stated simply.
No answer.
He sighed. "Look, I think we can agree things got a little heated last night. I was fighting with Rory, which I hate. I was angry at the situation and I had no right to take it out on you."
Silence.
"Even if it was partly your fault," he added determined to get a rise out her.
"What!?!" she asked her eyes wide with a bit of surprise and plenty of anger. "My fault? Are you serious?"
Kevin smirked, happy to put an end to her silence. He hated the silent treatment. "Not really, but I figured that would get you talking."
"You're an ass," she stated as she got up to refill her cup.
"But a charming ass," he said smugly. Beating her to the coffee pot, he refilled her cup for her before pouring some for himself.
She smiled slightly despite being annoyed. "But still an ass," she muttered as she walked passed him deliberately not thanking him for refilling her coffee.
Not easily dismissed, Kevin continued, "So you admit you think I'm charming."
"I admit I think you're an ass. Whether or not I find you charming has no bearing on that fact."
He nodded, accepting that as a compliment of sorts. "Well, I really am sorry."
"Apology accepted," she said curtly before returning to her seat.
Kevin watched her walk to the table trying not to check her out as she did, but failing miserably. She was wearing only a pair of shorts and a talk top which afforded him a generous view of exposed skin—beautifully tempting exposed skin. He suddenly became very aware of how naked he was. In the interest of not embarrassing himself, Kevin made a mental not to keep his body in check as his boxers afforded him very little cover. "And I also wanted to thank you."
"Thank me for?"
He took a seat the table directly across from her. "For blocking the stairs last night…for not letting me go after Rory. You were right, that would have made things worse. As it is, I have my work cut out for me today. She's not going to let this go anytime soon."
"You've got that right."
He sighed.
"Look, Kevin," she began feeling great sympathy for the pained look in his eyes, "Rory is stubborn."
He chuckled, "Yes she is. It's a trait passed down from Lorelai to Lorelai."
"But," she continued reaching across the table to place a comforting hand over his, "no matter how angry she is, she'll always forgive. Rory loves you."
Kevin gripped the small hand that covered his, taking comfort in its warmth. "Thank you." An unfamiliar feeling crept into his stomach, one that he wasn't sure he was comfortable with.
"You two will be all right. Just tell her you're sorry."
That brought him out of his daze. "Sorry for what?"
Joanna's eyes opened wide. She must have heard him wrong. "Sorry for lying to her, for not staying out of it like you said you would, for trying to hide the fact that Tristan…"
"No," he interrupted pulling his hand out of her reach, a decision he regretted immediately. Less than half a second passed before he began to miss the warm pressure of her fingers. Hearing Tristan's name irritated him to end. Hearing her say Tristan's name made his blood boil.
"What do you mean no?"
"I mean I'm not going to apologize. I didn't do anything wrong."
Joanna stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. "What?"
"I didn't do anything wrong," he repeated. "I did what I had to do. It was for her own good. I was protecting my sister."
"Are you serious?" She couldn't believe he was being this pig headed. Stubbornness was definitely a family trait.
"I'm sorry she's so upset, but I'm not sorry about what I did. I did it for her and I'm not going to apologize for that."
"What do you mean you're not going to apologize?" she asked raising her voice slightly.
"I'm not going to apologize because I'm not sorry."
"How is that even possible? How could you not be sorry?"
"Because I'm right," he stated with an air of smugness that was not even in the least bit attractive.
"Oh my God. Are you even listening to yourself? Can you hear the words that are coming out of your mouth?"
He groaned and got out of his seat, the chair skidding loudly against the kitchen floor. "Look I don't want to fight with you. I've already apologized for yelling at you last night. You didn't deserve that. I was upset about Rory and I took it out on you. I don't like fighting with my sister and I will apologize to her for losing my temper, but not for what I did."
"Kevin…"
"No," he said cutting her off. "This is not open for discussion. I'm going to go upstairs and get dressed. I need to find a taco," he said running a hand through his hair. His hangover headache seemed to have gained some strength.
"A taco?"
"Don't ask," he said dismissively. "My head is killing me and I need a taco before Rory and I have our little showdown."
"Ok," she said slowly not sure what to make of his statement.
"You're welcome to come with me if you're hungry."
"No, thank you," she said rather coldly. "There are still some Danishes." With that, she got up and walked over to the fridge making an effort not to look his way as she walked passed him.
Kevin sighed. "One step forward, two steps back," he muttered. He didn't have the energy to think about why Joanna being upset with him bothered him so much. The conversation, or rather confrontation, he was going to have with Rory would be difficult enough. Plus, he needed to assuage some of the guilt he'd been carrying around about Logan. The look of pain on his friend's face as Rory laid into him affected Kevin more than he was willing to admit. No matter how he felt initially about Logan and Rory's relationship, and despite his lingering doubts about that relationship, one thing was certain: he didn't want either Rory or Logan hurt. And clearly, Logan was hurting. If he accomplished anything that day, it would be making things right between those two.
Quickly downing what was left of his coffee, Kevin ran upstairs to shower and dress in record time. Before heading back downstairs he stopped at Rory's door and pressed his ear up against it. Hearing no sound of any kind, he concluded she was likely still asleep and tiptoed away quietly. He entered the kitchen just as Joanna was loading their coffee cups into the dishwasher. He contemplated inviting her to come with him again, but decided against it. He didn't want to pick up where they'd left off. Plus, someone should be in the house in case Rory woke up. Kevin shifted his gaze over the counter looking for his keys. He frowned when he realized they were not there.
"Did you move my keys?"
She shut the dishwasher. "No," she said curtly, not liking the accusatory tone in his voice.
"Have you seen them?"
"No."
Kevin's frown deepened as his eyes surveyed the room. He remembered leaving them on the counter the night before. Suddenly, a wave of anxiety washed over him. He walked briskly to the front door and took a deep breath before opening it. The driveway was empty. "Shit!" He ran up the stairs at lightening speed. As he approached Rory's room, his mind raced, silently praying that she was still sound asleep and that his Porsche had been stolen by a gang of thieves. Without bothering to knock, he opened the door to Rory's bedroom. "Fuck!" No such luck.
Rory and Tristan were seated at a large booth near the back of the diner. The table could have easily sat six people, but with amount of food Rory ordered, there really wasn't much superfluous surface area. The two sat and ate in a comfortable silence, only speaking to comment on how good the food was and how the coffee wasn't nearly strong enough—the latter comment being made by Rory. Their server cleared the last of the dishes away before bringing them each a slice of pie a la mode and depositing a full pot of on the table.
"So," began Tristan.
"So…"
"Can I go first?"
She nodded spooning a generous helping of pie into her mouth.
"I don't know how much Joanna told you, but my main concern…my only concern really, for being here was to apologize to you for how I acted that night." He paused to look into the eyes that were staring intently into his. "I can't even…I don't know how I could…that wasn't me. That night, that wasn't me."
"Tristan…."
"No," he interrupted. "I need to get this out. Whatever reasons I might have had to justify the things I said and did that night, it doesn't matter. You didn't deserve to be treated that way and I am so sorry. I am so sorry. You have to believe that."
"I do."
"I couldn't look at myself for days after it happened. And no matter how angry I was at you, no matter how much I tried to hate you, I just…I hated myself more. I knew I couldn't go on until I made things right with you. It was the cruelest and most horrible thing I've ever done, Rory. I felt awful. I still feel awful. But please don't think this is just about me getting over my guilt. Because it's not. You deserve so much more than an apology." He took a breath not prepared for the onslaught of emotion that surged through him. He began to feel the familiar bout of nausea that always came when he thought about that night.
He had a beer in one hand and her hand in the other. The two were sitting in the middle of a lively party of students all celebrating the end of another tortuous round of exams. For Rory and Tristan and the rest of the graduating class, it felt especially liberating.
"Are you ok?" she asked him for probably the fourth time that night.
He took a swig from the bottle he was holding. "I'm fine," he muttered.
Rory gave him a half smile and squeezed his hand. It had been a very long couple of weeks for both of them. She leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek. She knew he'd been stressed lately, but thought now that finals were over he'd be more relaxed. "Don't worry, Tris. It's almost over. We just have to make it though the next couple of weeks until the actual ceremony and then we have the whole summer." She leaned further into him and whispered into his ear, "Just the two of us."
He smiled. Even after reading that list, even after his confrontation with Joanna, even though he knew what he knew, he still wanted her. He still loved her. Tristan chugged what was left of his beer before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his lap. "You wanna get out of here?" he asked in a husky tone.
Rory smiled, happy that his mood seemed to have lightened. They said goodnight to their friends and walked out hand in hand ignoring the round of catcalls they received as they left the party. Obviously, the rest of the partygoers believed they were leaving to have a party of their own.
Tristan led them down the hall to his room. He shut the door behind them and almost immediately pulled her to him for a bruising kiss. Rory responded eagerly and allowed him to walk them back toward his bed, their lips never parting. It was a dance she was familiar with. In fact, she was fairly certain she could maneuver her way around his room blindfolded since more often than not her eyes were closed whenever she was in there. She and Tristan had long ago given up studying together in either of their rooms as very little studying ever got done.
Rory felt the bed hit the back of her legs and Tristan lowered them both on it. As their make-out session became more and more intense, Tristan lifted her shirt off and buried his face in her neck sucking on a spot he knew she loved. "Mary," he moaned as his hands moved to take off her bra so that he could properly worship her breasts. As he did this, Rory writhed beneath him and tugged at his shirt wanting to feel his skin against hers.
Tristan flipped onto his back and pulled her on top of him. He loved seeing her like this: looking down at him—wanting him. At that moment all thoughts of that list and the mysterious Logan were erased from his mind. The only thing he could concentrate on was his Mary. If there was one thing he was sure of was that he loved her. He waited three years for a chance to be with her, suffering in silence as he watched her date less than worthy boys. But none of that mattered now. She was his. "At least for the moment," he thought sadly.
His body ached for her. Going without sex for almost a year was a bit difficult at times, but he knew it was worth it. She was worth it. Tristan moved his hands to her jeans. After undoing the button and the zipper, he eagerly pushed the denim off her body. "You're so beautiful," he whispered against her skin. He slid his body down hers, kissing every inch of skin he came across. He was now painfully erect. When he began to unbuckle his own belt, he felt Rory's body tense up. He let out a frustrated groan as she placed her hands over his, halting his movements.
"Tristan," she began in an apologetic tone. "We need to stop."
He sat up and groaned. "What's wrong?"
"Tristan."
"Don't you want to?"
"Yeah," she said unconvincingly. "I just…I don't think I'm ready."
"I want you so much," he said almost desperately.
"I know…just…I need more time."
"Time!" he said raising his voice a few decibels higher than he'd intended—his sexual frustration clearly getting the best of him. "We don't have much time left. We've been together almost a year now. How much more time do you need?"
Rory was taken aback by his bluntness. They'd had this conversation before, but never had he raised his voice to her, never had he gotten angry when she stopped their activities. She sympathized with his frustration. After all she was human and had her own desires. She just didn't feel ready yet. "I don't know," she answered weakly. "Just more."
He shook his head, feeling the effects of the alcohol, his sexual frustration, and the intense anger about her list hit him all at once. "How much longer do you expect me to wait for you?" It was a question he never thought he would ask her, but he was beyond caring. Everything that he'd bottled up the last couple of days came pouring out. He wasn't even affected by the pained and confused look in her eyes. He didn't care if he hurt her. In fact, at that moment, as she lay nearly naked in his bed, telling him 'no' yet again, he wanted to hurt her.
"You said you would wait until I was ready," she said weakly.
"It's been months," he yelled, his voice laced with venom.
Rory was so confused. The Tristan she knew would never talk to her like this. This was not her Tristan. "I'm not ready yet," she defended.
"In a couple of months we'll be at different schools," he spat, "what then?"
"What?" The look in his eyes was one she didn't recognize. "What's the matter with you?" Her voice was shaky. She didn't understand why he was acting this way. "We've talked about this. I know long distance will be hard at first, but we'll be ok. Besides Cambridge isn't that far from New Haven. We'll see each other on weekends and there's the phone and email. We'll make it work, Tristan. And anyway that's months away. We have the whole summer ahead of us. Remember? Just you and me for three whole months." Her voice sounded desperate, as if she was trying to convince herself as much as him. She laid there, her eyes pleading with his, as she clutched a blanket to her chest wondering what had gotten into him.
Tristan took in her expression, a mixture of confusion, anger, and sadness, and knew there was no turning back. A wave of sadness washed over him as he realized she would never be his again. He pushed that emotion away and concentrated on the anger he felt after reading the contents of her pro-con list. He focused his energy on remembering how she'd betrayed him and that made any sadness he felt pale in comparison. "What if I don't want to do long distance?"
Rory felt tears in her eyes, "What?" She clung to the blanket that covered her almost naked body feeling more vulnerable and exposed at that moment than she ever had in her short life.
"I don't want a long distance relationship," he declared. "Especially since you don't really seem all that committed to me now."
"What?" She had no idea what was behind that statement.
"I can't do long distance. I don't want to. I won't."
"But Tristan we talked about this. We decided…"
"No," he said angrily, "you decided. You changed your mind and decided to go to Yale and just assumed I'd go along with the whole long distance thing. Well now I'm changing my mind. I don't want to have a long distance relationship."
"Tristan. What? Why?" Tears began to fall. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"I don't want to do it."
"But, Tris," she sobbed.
"No!" he shouted his voice angry and bitter.
Rory felt sick and she didn't even try to stop herself from crying. "Why…why…why are you doing this? What did I do?"
He looked away from her. He couldn't bear to watch her cry. "I can't do this anymore. I can't do 'us' anymore."
"But Tristan, what about this summer? All our plans?"
He kept his back to her, knowing he would cave if he had to look into her eyes. It was cowardly, he knew that, but he didn't care. "I'm done," he stated simply. "We're over, Rory."
"Tristan, no," she cried after him.
He quickly threw on a shirt and walked to door. "I'm going for a walk. Be gone when I get back." He heard her call out for him again, but willed himself not to turn around. Shutting the door behind him, he heard her cry openly, the pain she felt evident. He felt sick to his stomach, his own eyes begin to well up with tears, but before he let them fall, he walked away.
"I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry. I know I don't deserve it and I wouldn't blame you if you hated me forever, but…"
"Tristan, stop," she interrupted. She slid out of her side of the booth and moved to sit next to him. Before he or she could utter another word, she threw her arms around his neck. "Stop it, please. I know you're sorry. And I'm sorry too. That night was one of the worst in my life. I didn't understand what you were doing or why you were doing it. You're right. That night, you weren't yourself. You weren't my Tristan."
"Mary…"
"Let me finish," she said gently keeping her body close to his in a comforting embrace. "I…I know what you meant when you said you had your reasons for doing what you did." She paused and looked into his eyes. "Joanna told me you found that stupid pro-con list."
"Mary…"
"No, let me explain. When I made that list, I wasn't…I wasn't thinking of you…or our relationship."
"I kind of figured that," he said somewhat bitterly.
"I was being childish and selfish. You had been such a great friend to me and you were such an amazing boyfriend, Tristan, but I…I…"
"You weren't in love me," he finished sadly. He pulled away from her a bit, wanting to not be quite so close to her despite how good it felt.
"Tristan…" Her eyes began to fill with tears.
"At least not like I was in love with you."
His words cut through her. "Tristan," she whispered sadly, not knowing what else to say.
"It's the truth, Mary. You know it. I know it. I knew it then and it hurt me so much," he admitted. "But it didn't give me the right to treat you the way I did."
"No," she insisted. She felt so awful for him, for them both. "It gave you every right. I can't even begin to imagine what you must have felt when you read that list. I can't even…I would have hated me too if I were you. I'm so sorry, Tristan. Please stop punishing yourself. We're both at fault here—not just you."
"I'll never forget the look in your eyes that night," he said moving closer to her. "I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for what I did."
She leaned into him. "I forgive you," she assured him. "If you'll forgive me."
"I'm so sorry, Mary," he continued to apologize. Hearing her say she forgave him was a relief but he knew it would be a long time before he forgave himself. "But finding that list…I was so…I mean at first I didn't know what to think. Seeing his name was bad enough, but not seeing my name was…I mean it…"
"Tristan…" She wiped tears off her cheeks.
He took a deep breath. "My name wasn't even on it. That hurt so much. I knew things between us weren't perfect. We'd been fighting a lot lately. And that was mostly my fault. I was frustrated because part of me knew it was over when you decided not to go to Harvard with me." He paused and looked out the window as he tried to keep his emotions in check. No matter how ready he thought he was for this conversation, he wasn't prepared for all the onslaught of emotions he was experiencing. "I knew that no matter how hard we tried…no matter how much we both wanted it to work…that the long distance thing wasn't going to work out. But I thought we at least had the summer…and maybe a few months into the school year. I knew it would end eventually, but I knew I had to try…because I just couldn't let you go." He stopped to bring her closer to him. "I couldn't let my Mary go…not yet."
"Oh, Tristan."
"I knew I would have to let you go eventually. I knew that one day I would lose you, but after I read that list, I…I…it made me feel like I never really had you. That you were never really mine…that our whole relationship…"
"No," she interrupted. "Tristan, don't think that. Don't think that for second. You had me. I was yours. My feelings for you were very real. Don't ever think they weren't."
"I just wasn't the one you wanted." It came off sounding like an accusation. And in a way it was.
Rory knew that he was right about that. But she also knew that her feelings for Tristan were real, they had to have been. No matter how much of Logan she saw in him, she knew she cared about him too. She'd kissed him, fantasized about him, lusted after him. Those feelings were real. They just didn't quite add up to her feelings for Logan. But she did not want Tristan to think she didn't have real feelings for him.
"When it came down to it, Mary, I wasn't the one you wanted."
"I'm so sorry." She really was. She never wanted to hurt him.
"Don't be," he whispered. "That's not your fault. The heart wants what the heart wants right?"
Rory could tell he was trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. She knew him and his moods as well as he knew hers. "I'm sorry." What else could she say?
He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment trying to regain his composure. "Guess we both have things we're sorry for. And I can't really blame you for how you felt about him anymore than I can blame myself for how I felt about you."
"I really did care about you, Tris."
"I know you did," he assured her. "I'm sorry for what I put you through."
"Me too."
"Forgive me?"
"Always. Forgive me?"
He smiled. "Always." He took her hand in his and squeezed it. "We were happy right…at least for a little while?"
She smiled. "Yeah, we were…really happy."
That statement brought him a lot of comfort. An awkward silence followed before he asked, "So…are you and…Logan…are you two…?" He tried to mask any contempt in his voice when he said Logan's name, but failed miserably.
"Tristan," she said sadly. She didn't want to tell him. She didn't want to confirm his suspicions. She couldn't stand to hurt him more than she already had.
"Are you?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he couldn't stop himself from asking.
She didn't want to lie to him. "We're…dating."
He sighed and turned away from her. Tristan felt as if someone was literally squeezing his heart with their bare hands. She was with him…with Logan. He was her boyfriend now. That thought made him sick. He fought back his tears. "Are you…are you…" He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you happy? Does he make you happy?"
Rory pressed her forehead into his shoulder, her eyes shut tight holding back tears of her own. She nodded against him.
Tristan felt her move against him and forced himself to look at her. He tried to smile. "I…I really want you to be happy…even if…even if it's him you're with." He turned away from her again and stared out the window. He meant what he'd just said. Despite how awful this turned out for him, he really did love her and he really wanted her to be happy.
She wrapped her arms around him, knowing how painful that must have been for Tristan to admit. "Although right now we're kind of fighting…if it makes you feel any better," she admitted with the slightest trace of sarcasm in her voice.
He heard it and appreciated her rather feeble attempt to bring him some comfort. "It does actually." He turned back to face her and with a small smirk added, "It actually makes me feel a lot better."
The semi-playful tone in his voice instantly cleared some of the tension n the air. "Well than you'll be happy to know the fight was about you."
He leaned back and smiled wickedly. "Go on."
She giggled knowing full well he was only half-serious. She was thrilled to see the sadness in his eyes replaced with the playful sparkle she knew and loved. "Kevin was intercepting the packages you were leaving me."
"Really? So you weren't just ignoring me?" Tristan felt the mood shift and was grateful. The last thing he wanted to do was break down in front of her.
"No," she said, "of course not."
"Well I'm feeling better and better," he continued to kid. "Anything else?"
"When I found out what Kevin had been doing and that Logan knew about it, I yelled at them."
"Did you yell really loud?" he asked in a voice that made him sound like a little boy.
"Really, really loud," she promised him. "I'm surprised you couldn't hear me even from Hartford."
"So that was you?" he questioned playing along. "I thought that shriek sounded familiar. Well I hope they had the good sense to find some cover. I know how terrifying you are when you're angry."
"You were very good at finding cover when I was angry."
"Hey like you said, I have excellent self preservation skills."
She laughed.
He laughed too. "So tell me how you ended up at the police station?"
The conversation flowed much more easily after that. They ordered another round of pie and sat comfortably, catching up on each other's lives, laughing, joking, being friends.
"What do you mean she's gone?" Logan yelled into his phone. "Where is she?"
"I don't know," answered a panicked sounding Kevin. "She took my car and left. I've tried calling her, but her cell phone is going straight to voicemail. I don't know where she is."
Logan's heart was racing. He'd had too much to drink the night before and it was too early. He couldn't think straight. "She doesn't even have a driver's license!"
"I know that," yelled a clearly frustrated Kevin. "She doesn't have a license and she's driving my baby."
"Oh my God, Kevin, this is not about your stupid car."
"I know that," he defended. "What I meant was a Porsche is not exactly the easiest thing to drive." He let out a worried breath. "Nor is it the safest if you're not careful. It takes a while to get used to how quickly it accelerates especially if you're not used to driving. And Rory isn't used to driving."
Logan let out a strangled breath. He knew Kevin was right. "Well if it makes you feel any better, she can handle a manual transmission pretty well."
"That does make me feel better." Kevin had been picturing Rory lying in a ditch somewhere next to his mangled Porsche. It was an image he didn't want in his head or on his conscience.
"Wait, your car," said Logan. "She's in your car?"
"I just said that. Are you paying attention?"
"Yes, dumb ass. What I meant was, your Porsche has a GPS. Call the system and find out where she is."
"Oh my God, that's brilliant." Kevin had been so worried about Rory that thought never even occurred to him. "I'll call you back."
"I'll wake Colin and Finn."
Kevin placed the call and learned his precious Porsche was somewhere just outside of Hartford. He couldn't believe Rory actually left the island. He quickly dialed Logan's number again.
"She's on her way back to Hartford," he told Logan before his friend even had time to utter a greeting.
"What? Damnit."
"We've got to move fast."
"All right, get packed. We're leaving as soon as I can get Finn up."
"You impounded my car!" Kevin yelled at the female officer. "Why?"
"Kevin, calm down," said Logan.
"Well, sir, the young lady driving it didn't have a license or a registration. We couldn't allow her to continue operating the vehicle so we brought her in and impounded the vehicle. It's standard procedure."
"What do you mean you brought her in?" This time it was Logan yelling. "You arrested her?" Panic overtook him at the thought of Rory in a jail cell. She must have been terrified.
"No, she was not arrested. Officer McDaniels brought her in, she paid her fines and left."
"You let her leave?" yelled Kevin and Logan in unison.
"We had no reason to hold her," said the officer in a much sterner voice. She didn not appreciate the tone these boys were using. "She left a few hours ago."
"Where did she go?" demanded Logan.
"I don't know, sir. Would you like to speak to Sergeant McDaniels. He was the last person to speak to her."
"Yes, go get him," ordered Logan.
The female officer left, apparently very eager to pawn off Kevin and Logan onto someone else.
"Ok, you two need to take it down a notch before you get arrested," said Colin. "Need I remind you we're in a police station? You're both acting like jerks and it's not as if you two have clean records."
That seemed to sober up both Kevin and Logan. They stood silently brooding until Sergeant McDaniels arrived. "Can I help you, gentlemen?"
"We're looking for Rory Hayden," said Colin calmly before either Kevin or Logan could speak. He didn't want to risk angering the large male police officer.
"Who's asking?" he said somewhat menacingly.
"I'm Kevin Hayden," answered Kevin in as calm a voice as he could muster. "I'm her brother." Kevin offered him a look at his driver's license.
Sergeant McDaniels glanced at it before speaking. "Ah yes, the owner of the Porsche. Your sister left hours ago."
"Did she say where she was going?"
"I assumed she was going home."
Kevin turned to Finn who had been on his phone throughout the entire ordeal. "Still no answer at your house, Mate. I've called all the lines, even your dad's private work line."
Kevin let out a frustrated sigh. "Did she say anything about where she might be headed?" he asked again.
"I'm sorry, no. After we finished her paperwork she waited until her ride came and then she left."
"Someone picked her up?" asked Logan.
"Yes," answered the officer. "Young guy, about your age. Tall. Blond hair."
Kevin and Logan let out identical groans. Logan wanted to beat his head against the wall. He couldn't believe Rory had Tristan pick her up. This just got worse and worse.
"What about my car?" asked Kevin sounding somewhat defeated.
Sergeant McDaniels checked his watch. "You'll have to come back tomorrow," he informed him. "The lot closed twenty minutes ago."
"DAMNIT!" yelled Kevin. "This is just so perfect."
"Kevin, calm down," warned Colin.
Kevin just glared at him and ran a hand through his hair.
"Let's just go," said Colin. "We'll go back to your house and wait. At least now we know she's safe and she's bound to show up there eventually."
"Fine," muttered Kevin.
"Thanks for your help," Colin told Sergeant McDaniels. Without another word, the group filed out of the station.
"So this is where I've been leaving the packages and notes begging you to talk to me," Tristan informed her. They were standing on the Hayden's front porch, where not too long ago, Christopher had caught Logan kissing his daughter goodnight. "After I ran into your brother that first day, I started showing up earlier and earlier. Your dad almost caught me once, but I ducked behind that tree."
"I am so sorry about the packages. I promise I'll retrieve all of them—assuming of course they didn't throw them out. I can't believe they would do something like this. And I can't believe my dad was in on it too. It's a conspiracy theory," she declared overly dramatically.
He laughed and said, "Well at least it all worked out."
"Oh believe me, it hasn't worked out for them. They have yet to feel my wrath."
"What are you going to do?"
"I was thinking about having them drawn and quartered. You don't have any horses I could borrow do you?"
He laughed and shook his head. "Sorry, Mary."
"No quartering's too good for them. They should be eighthed, sixteenthed." Her eyes danced with joy as she said this. She'd really missed joking around with Tristan like this.
He missed it too. "I don't know you quarter a guy, he's in four pieces. That's tough to recover from," he said playfully.
She shook her head and continued their bit. "They should be stretched on a rack, iron maiden, strappadoed."
His brow wrinkled but his smile remained. "Oh my God. What is strappadoed?"
"When you suspend someone in the air with a rope tied to his hands that are tied behind his back," she answered calmly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"You're scaring me with your knowledge of torture," he said chuckling. They laughed together for a few seconds, Tristan not daring to take his eyes off her face, as if he was trying to memorize it. "You are a remarkable woman Lorelai Hayden."
"Why thank you," she said cheekily.
Tristan continued to laugh and took a step toward her. "You know when I walked away from you that night I had no I idea how I was ever going to get over you."
"Tristan," she sighed, her voice barely above a whisper.
His face took on a more serious expression as he ran his hand over her cheek. "I still don't."
"Tris…"
He shook his head, his eyes begging her not to respond. Fortunately for him, the awkwardness of the moment was interrupted by a car turning into the driveway. Rory sighed as Logan's Porsche and Finn's SUV pulled up to the house.
"I should probably go," he said quietly.
"No, you don't have…"
"Yeah, I do, Mare. I came here to make things right with you and I think I've done that." He looked over at the Porsche locking eyes with Kevin and Logan, both of whom were glaring at him. "I don't want to make your life…more complicated."
Rory barely spared a glance at her brother and boyfriend and sighed. "Tristan…"
"Besides I should get back to Grandfather's. I want to spend some time with him before I head back to Boston."
"You're leaving?" she asked.
"First thing tomorrow," he replied.
"But…"
"I did what I came here to do," he said with a small smile.
Rory looked up at him. "Do you think you and I…I mean I would really like us to be….I don't want to lose you again, Tristan."
He let out a sigh as he looked into the pleading eyes of the girl he loved. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. Being her friend while she was Logan's girlfriend was something he wasn't sure he could handle. "It's still…a little too soon to tell. But I'll try."
"You can call me whenever you want, Tristan. To talk," she said giving his hand a squeeze. "I'll always be here for you."
Tristan looked down at the small hand clutching his and squeezed it in return. "Give me time."
Rory squeezed his hand once more and smiled.
"I should go," he said. Tristan brushed his fingers over her cheek letting himself get lost in the blueness of his eyes one last time. He sighed sadly but forced himself to smile as he said, "I'd kiss you goodbye but your boyfriend's watching."
Rory smiled softly at him willing herself not to look back to where she knew Logan was indeed watching. Before she had time to think about it, she launched herself into his arms embracing him fully. She didn't care that Logan and Kevin were watching. This was their goodbye, hers and Tristan's. She wasn't going to let them deprive her of a proper goodbye.
Tristan was surprised by her act but recovered quickly and wrapped his arms tightly around her. He meant what he said about not wanting to cause any problems for her, no matter how much he disliked Logan. He had no intention of making a scene in front of Logan or her brother, but he wasn't about to let the opportunity to hold her one last time pass him by. Besides, she had been the one to initiate contact.
"I really wish I could have loved you," she whispered to him. Tristan could tell she meant it and somehow it was enough. It wasn't how he wanted things to end, but he had already accepted the fact that that was how it was going to end.
"Thank you," he whispered back before finally, and somewhat painfully, releasing her. "That means more to me than you'll ever know."
She took a step back and smiled at him.
"Take care of yourself…Mary." With one last smirk, Tristan climbed into his car and drove off.
Rory kept her eyes on his car until she could no longer see it. She then turned to the silver Porsche occupied by Logan and her brother. Her eyes locked onto Logan's and for a few long seconds they just stared at each other. Then, she turned away, walk into the house, and closed the door behind her.
I know there was no Rogan, but I thought Tristan deserved to have a chapter all to himself.