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Let Her Go - Chapter Three
"So," I mumble as Tristan handed me some mouthwash. The electric blue liquid swam through my mouth before I violently spat it back out into the sink. You know the Huntzberger's?"
After spending an hour downstairs with Logan and his family, Tristan had come back upstairs to check on me. Now, with the alcohol fading out of my system, my head was beginning to pound frantically. After hearing of my troubles, Tristan hadn't gone back down to his over talkative guests. However, Shira's obnoxious titter was an indication that the Huntzberger's hadn't left yet.
"How did you know-" Tristan started. "You know Shira's kids, don't you?" Tristan's eyebrow cocked upwards with intrigue. I guess he wasn't as clueless as I remembered him being. "Logan and Honour?"
"I asked you first, bible boy." A gentle smile lifted my lips as the pet name slipped out. Tristan returned the gesture by sending me a million dollar smile of his own.
"Touché, Gilmore, touché." A loud roar of laugher erupted from downstairs and I couldn't help but subtly roll my eyes at the sound of Logan's happiness. It was petty, yes, but, I couldn't help but feel cynical in response to the heartbreak that Logan had made me feel. It didn't seem fair to me -
Logan got to fool around with other girls, whilst in a relationship, and not bare any harsh consequences. I wanted him to feel what I was feeling: the heartache, the distress - the hangover. "Mitchum's college friends with my Dad. So, I've pretty much known Logan and Honour my whole life."
"Are you guys close?" Curiosity sparked within me and I couldn't help but want to know more about Tristan and Logan's relationship.
Why had I never heard of their acquaintance before? Logan and I had been together for over a year and Tristan and I had been friends for all most two. Despite all of this, the two had never mentioned one another.
It was bound to spark some sort of intrigue within me.
"What is this, twenty-one questions? No, now it's my turn." Tristan stroked the soft stubble on his cheek comically, as if he were in deep thought. I noticed the light blonde stubble on his chin and the added maturity it added to Tristan's whole persona. "How do you-" An extra large emphasis was placed on the word, you. "Know the Huntzberger's?"
"The Yale campus isn't as big as it may seem, DuGrey." I answered cryptically, not wanting to have a full frontal conversation about my circumstances with Logan. "You run into all kinds of people ..." I leaned a little forward from the seat I was currently occupying. Tristan did the same, probably hoping to snag some juicy gossip. He bit down his upper lip and I admired how attractive he looked in that one picture frame. There was no doubt in my mind that Tristan was a lady's man. Always was. Always will be. "Naked people." I whispered, reminiscing on the moment when I had first met Marty.
"Oh God," Tristan clutched his stomach as he laughed whole heartily. "Gilmore, you really are something!"
"My turn," I quickly jumped on the band wagon to ask Tristan another question, deep down, I was hoping the distraction would stop him from asking me any more questions about Logan, someone I didn't want to talk about right now. "What are you doing here? At Yale?"
"Ultimately, my mom moved out here for a little while to help with Honour's wedding," Tristan dove into a story, his eyes glazing over in deep concentration. "But you know what Hartford society is like, they all ask stupid questions and there were some rumours going around about my mom having an affair. Naturally, my dad wanted to put an end to them so we moved out here. Dad thought Yale would be good for me."
"So, what, you're a Yale collegiate now?"
"Yeah, I guess I am." Tristan grinned. "And, since I'm a crazy smart Yale kid now, I was able to catch onto the fact that you just asked me two questions thus-" Tristan lifted his head snootily as he lifted a pinky in the air; a fake British accent coating his words. "I am condemned to ask you two also, ol' chap."
My snicker over Tristan's appealing accent was cut off by a scream from downstairs.
"Tristan!" Mrs DuGrey's softly nasal voice hollered from downstairs. "Why don't you and your friend join us for a cup of coffee? Everybody's leaving soon." With an audible huff of rebelliousness, Tristan jumped off his spot on the floor, his hand extended for me to take and I looked at it cautiously.
I couldn't go downstairs, could I? Logan was downstairs. Shira - the she devil - was downstairs.
"Come on, Mare, I don't bite," Tristan smirked as I hesitated to take his hand. My mind was telling me to fake another wave of nausea but a more cynical side to me was encouraging me to go down and face Logan; do exactly what Paris had wanted - show Logan what he was missing, what he had let go. "Not unless you want me to."
Typical Tristan remark - he always made every serious situation into an innuendo. It definitely eased the tightness in my chest. It was nice to think of something a little less serious than stabbing Logan with a fork.
"I-"
"My mom is a little pretentious but she's not that bad." Tristan was trying to sound convincing but his face didn't mirror his words. I knew what it was like to experience a Hartford wife - Grandma - first hand and it wasn't always pretty. "Plus it's a free cup of coffee, what Gilmore turns that down, huh?"
After a few more seconds of skeptical thinking I did the extraordinary, I put my faith in Tristan DuGrey. And, the oh so tempting cup of steaming hot coffee that was awaiting me downstairs.
My name is Lorelai Leigh Gilmore ... and, I am a coffee addict.
"Let's go." With my hand wrapped in his, Tristan led me out of the room. It seemed physically impossible but my heart was beating even faster than it already was. If scientifically feasible, my heart was ready to fall through my lungs. Oddly though, Tristan's presence lessened my nerves.
"Ah, Tristan, darling!" Shira called - may I add, a little hyperbolically - as Tristan waltzed down the staircase. She immediately grabbed for his face; leaning in for a kiss, however, Tristan expertly dodged Shira's crimson lipstick. "So glad you could join us again. Do introduce us to your friend properly, Mary, was it?"
"Well, not exactly," My body was tucked skilfully behind Tristan's body but without my consent, Tristan stepped away from me. "This is Lorelai," I scoffed and Tristan corrected himself, a smirk easily evident upon his face. "This is Rory."
It felt like time had stopped. The air in the room had suddenly grown so thick, you could cut it straight through with a knife. An awkward silence loomed sullenly in the air as I shifted my gaze from the floor up to Logan's leisurely. His eyes pierced through me, swimming with an intense array of emotions. The most prominent emotion: surprise.
I took this moment to take him in. He was dressed casually in a pair of black plants and a soft blue button-down shirt. The shirt fit him perfectly, sculpting every curve and edge of his upper torso. He was a looker. And, that simple fact made me feel ten times worse. My heart still felt like he belonged to us ... Like he was still ours to claim, like he was still ours to take home and ravish.
He wasn't.
"Rory, dear!" Shira's voice trembled in surprise. Her face also mirrored her exasperated tone. Shira's red, perfectly plumped lips hung open; ready to catch a fly. "What a ... surprise!"
"Yeah," I mumbled back lamely, unsure of what to say. Shira had never liked me and vice versa. She had taken to humiliating me when I had first met her and since then, our relationship consisted of ... well, nothing.
"I didn't know you knew Tristan-" Before Shira could continue, my saviour - once again - interjected.
"Oh, me and Gilmore, we go way back!" With a casual click of his teeth, Tristan slung his buff and bulky arm across my shoulder. My unaccustomed body wasn't used to the excess weight and I stumbled forward clumsily. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Logan step forward to help me but Tristan beat him to it; his large hand encircling my waist. A scowl was now imprinted on Logan's face and he watched me carefully as if he were silently pleading for me to throw Tristan's arm off me.
I left it there.
"You do?" Shira questioned, her eyes tightening into slits in disbelief. Just like with Logan, she probably didn't deem me as a good enough person to even associate somebody like Tristan with.
"Yeah," My voice came out quiet but I cleared my throat cinematically before speaking again. I was building an unintentional momentum. "Tristan and I went to Chilton together." And, just to be spiteful. "We were thrown together quite often actually."
"Weren't you Tristan's Juliet?" For the first time, I noticed Tristan's burly father. He looked like a mean man: grey hair, large shoulders, Forester height. He stood tall and broad in a black work ensemble. He looked like a man who meant business I also noticed how Tristan seemed to subconsciously cower away from Mr DuGrey.
Tristan was frightened of him and it was safe to say, so was I. "That stupid play before he left for military school?"
"Wait, Rory was the girl that you were madly in love with in high school?" Logan jumped in as my eyes bulged out of my sockets.
Tristan was what with me in high school?
Logan's facial expression was grime and his eyes were unreadable; everybody turning to slowly stare down Tristan. With a blush that touched his blonde hair line and a gaze that refused to meet mine, I realised the truth behind Logan's words.
Tristan had really felt something for me back in high school. I wasn't just another girl he could toy with. Who knew? Tristan had actual, sentimental feelings towards me.
It was a lot to let sink in.
"Logan!" Tristan and Shira yelled simultaneously.
"You what?" My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of its element - out of water - I was out of oxygen. Today was an overwhelming day; a whirlwind of experiences that were making my stomach clench and unclench.
Honour's wedding, confrontation with Logan, rectifying my relationship with Paris, getting completely wasted, stumbling upon Tristan again, coming back to his house, seeing Logan, learning about Tristan's true feelings for me. It was all too much.
Queasily, I took a hold of the decadent bannister beside me. My fingers curled around the exquisitely carved wood in order to keep upright.
"I ..." Tristan rubbed the back of his buzz-cut head nervously. "Well, I ... Well you were different but ... you know, you were with Dean at the time and-"
"As in married Dean?" Logan asked, his hand absentmindedly strolling through his hair as he stared at me in disbelief. Logan only knew about a fraction of my relationship with Dean. I hadn't jumped into our high school history. All Logan knew was my first time was with Dean and Dean had been in a broken marriage.
"Farmer boy got married?" Tristan laughed. "Huh, would you look at that?" He was all most smug about the conversational topic and I resisted the urge to smack him around the head. But, as if he had had an epiphany, Tristan slowly rotated on the balls of his feet. He was now facing me completely. "You didn't marry him, did you?"
"Oh, oh, no. God no." I didn't intend to come out rude but it surely had. Dean was a good friend of mine - even after everything we had gone through - but, he just wasn't the guy for me. Dean wanted a house wife, somebody to wear frilly dresses and obey his every beck and call. That wasn't me. I wasn't that girl. I wanted a job and I wanted to travel and I wanted to learn more than how to make the perfect roast. All in all, I wasn't what Dean needed and vice versa. I still felt a pang of guilt for making such a mess of my situation with Dean. I loved him, I really did ... just not the way either of us wished. "Dean and I just weren't right for each other."
"You were inseparable for like three years, I thought you would have been." I internally groaned at the insinuation.
"Three years?" Logan's voice was quiet and soft but it was easily audible in the small hallway space we occupied. "Three years?" His voice was now louder. "Three years!" Logan was shouting now.
"Logan," Shira hissed, swatting his shirt covered bicep. "Not now, please-"
Ignoring his mother completely - like always - Logan turned to me. His gaze was intense - burning - and I felt my heartbeat race as his eyes darkened. He was angry and noticeably so.
"Rory," he sighed heavily, his eyes reflecting the amounts of pain and confusion he was currently experiencing. He didn't want to deal with his mom; he wanted to talk to me. "Can I see you outside, alone, please?"
"Logan, we are guests, it's rude to leave mid-"
"Stay out of this, mom, this has nothing to do with you-"
"Logan!" Shira covered her mouth as if her son's defiance wasn't a regular occurrence. "You will apologise to me, this instant. No boy should speak to an elder in such a manner. I raised you better-"
"You didn't raise me at all." Logan muttered it softly but I heard it loud and clear. He had made previous references to the many women - or nannies - that had raised him and Honour. Whilst Shira Huntzberger attended parties and held charity galas, nannies of all origins acted as mothers and fathers to the two wealthy heirs. It was something Logan and I never really discussed but the thought of not having a present motherly figure made my heart drop.
"Logan Huntzber-"
"Rory?" Logan yelled my name, screaming desperately to escape the dangerous claws of his society mother. In that moment, he looked so helpless and pathetic and sad ... I all most felt sorry for him. "Five minutes, please!"
"Fine," I grumbled unwillingly. "Excuse me." With a light bow of my head, I headed towards the front door, Logan following closely behind me.
Each step outside felt like an eternity. There was a breezy chill outside and my body quivered as a wave of wind hit my bare arms and legs. That was when I remembered what I was wearing and I blushed crazily. My hands scrambled to the hem of my dress and I pulled at it frantically. Whilst doing so, I hadn't noticed Logan's close proximity. He was standing right behind me and his hand took a firm hold of my wrist as he tried to stop me from pulling at the dress.
"You look beautiful, Ace," Logan practically growled into my ear. His warm breathe blew across my clammy skin and I shivered unintentionally. There was no denying that Logan always made my insides flutter.
"Don't touch me," I mumbled not so convincingly. However, Logan obeyed and dropped my wrist. He took this opportunity to grasp my upper arms and spin me around so that I was looking at him, face-to-face.
"Ace," Logan tried to take a step closer but I held my hand up to stop him. "I love you."
"That's just perfect, isn't it? You tell a girl you love her and she's running back into your arms," there was a lengthy pause and Logan let my words sink in. Back when I had said the three dreaded words, Logan had told me that he had said it to plenty women before me. He had said he never truly meant it. I guess I was another addition to that list of naive girls. "Or in your case, your bed."
"Don't be like that, Rory," I noticed the fact that Logan referred to me as Rory - something he rarely did. "I thought we were apart. I was lonely. Those girls meant nothing to me."
"They mean something to me though, Logan." I exaggerated the pronoun me. "It hurts knowing you ran to another when things got tough. It really hurts-" My voice grew raspy and I stopped talking to catch my breathe and clear my throat.
I wasn't going to cry. Not right now. I wasn't going to give Logan that satisfaction. "What if it were me, huh? What if I had spent our time apart with Colin or Finn or Robert-"
Before I could finish my sentence Logan interjected, his whole body moved to cover mine.
"No," He sighed, realising the double standards that were being held between us. My mind flickered back to Finn's birthday party; the night I had decided to give casual dating a try. Robert, one of Logan's friends, and I had gone to the party together and Logan hadn't liked it. And, that was just a date. He couldn't even contemplate what I had felt when I was forced to perform pleasantries with Honour's bridesmaids. "I don't even want to think about either of them touching you like I have: kissing you like I have, pleasing you like I have." Now, suddenly, ashamed of his actions, Logan glared at his shoes. "I'm sorry, Ace, I ... I didn't think-"
"You're sorry? Sorry for what Logan? Cheating on me?" I rolled my eyes. "Lying to me? Letting me walk straight into a room full of girls that you'd and I quote, fooled around with."
"I ... I didn't cheat on, believe me when I say that. We were apart but I wasn't aware of the consequences of my actions and I and that's what I am sorry for." Logan forcefully took my hand captive in his own. "And I didn't lie to you, I didn't tell you because I knew it would upset you ... I knew we'd end up like this."
"You lied to me, Logan. You lied right to my face!" I tried to hold my ground by sucking back the tears that threatened to fall from my eyelids.
"I didn't lie to you!" Logan was frustrated now. His hands had turned into small fists; reddening as he clenched them harder. "What about you, huh? And, Dean? I thought you just wrecked his marriage ... turns out you were serious about him. Three years? That's a long time to be screwing a married man."
"Screw you, Logan." With that, I took my leave; my sudden movement leaving a brisk of wind in my wake.