Title: Her First Choice
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Nil.
Summary: Lorelai knew that she should feel something. And then one day, her tears came. And so did Luke.
Author's Notes: Post-Christopher reconciliation story. I know, we've seen this tree before. But it bugs me that we didn't get to see Lorelai really mourn her relationship with Luke properly. And it drives me crazy that we haven't seen any real physical contact between them.
No spoilers. It begins sometime before Gilmore Girls Only, 'cause that's when I started writing it. I originally intended it as a one-shot, but it keeps growing, so… we'll see where it goes. As always, reviews are appreciated.
Rating: T
Chapter 1: When She Cries
Lorelai knew that she should feel something. Sadness, anger, frustration, relief… Something. Of all the times in her life that she had been overburdened with emotion, she had never expected to experience this particular moment and feel… well, nothing.
At first, she thought it was just a delayed reaction. So much had happened lately, so much turmoil in her life, that maybe it hadn't caught up with her yet. The feelings would come. She would cry, she would scream and throw things, she would watch some old movies curled up on the couch with Paul Anka, and then she would gradually begin to move on with her life once more.
And yet, she hadn't cried. She hadn't cried in the weeks since the divorce. She didn't feel angry or hurt or upset, not at Christopher or herself. And she had really thought that crushing weight of loneliness would do her in. But, as it was turning out, the quiet, empty house felt just the same as it had before. In fact, her life seemed back to normal, really, like one of those old metal grocery carts with the one wheel that wobbles and sticks until it hits a bump. Then the cart runs smoothly again, and you notice it and appreciate it only because you had to suffer through the wobbly wheel.
Lorelai decided that she was simply numb to the whole thing, and ultimately, that was probably for the best. Emotions could be messy and cumbersome. Following her feelings around had caused her no end of grief over the years. Maybe she subconsciously knew that she needed a break from those pangs in her heart, a vacation from the anger and the sadness and that nagging guilt that kept her from falling asleep at night.
She loved Luke. It wasn't a feeling so much as a state of existence, something she failed to realize when they broke up. And that love persisted, deep inside her, despite all her attempts to ignore it or quash it. Lorelai did not want to love Luke. She resented the fact that she still longed for the man who did not want to marry her, who kept her segregated from his life… who did not love her.
The last acknowledgment was the worst – Luke did not love her. No matter how much she made herself face that statement, it always hurt a little. Sure, he said that he loved her, but actions speak louder than words, and Luke had always been more of an action-man anyway. What did it say that he hid April from her? Or that even after she found out, he kept Lorelai away from the girl for fear she would steal her affection? And finally, worst of all, what did it mean that he would not elope with her even after he had suggested it and they had discussed the possibility?
At the time, she thought the big wedding plans had simply been causing him too much stress. But as it turned out, it wasn't about the wedding at all. It was about marrying her. He wasn't ready, he wasn't sure. Why hadn't he been sure? Ever since the night she proposed, Lorelai felt certain of her feelings for Luke. He was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. He was the one. Forget Emily Gilmore's trying on her wedding dress every day the week before the wedding – Lorelai had barely gone a day with the garment sitting in at home in her closet before putting it on again.
The fairy tale planning of their wedding had been so perfect, so beautiful and easy. Of course something had to mess it up, to make things hard and ugly for a while. But at the time, she had truly felt they could work through everything, that they could emerge on the other side of their problems and still have the marriage she had always wanted.
It wasn't until April that Lorelai began to wonder – truly wonder - if Luke even wanted that with her anymore. Did he want to marry her? Did he want the life she had always dreamed of sharing? In the end, when she pushed him on it, his answer was no. He was not willing to jump, to fling himself into a life with her. Part of her rationalized that if he could not do it then, when they were engaged and had known each other for so long, would he ever be able to do it?
So she buried her emotions. And now, they were so far inside of her that she could no longer feel them. She imagined that they had simply infused themselves into her body, soaking into her organs and blood stream like toxic waste infects ground water. And while she knew it probably wasn't good for her, she was relieved to feel only the merciful numbness.
And so, as she saw Luke getting out of his truck across the square one day, the fact that the image inspired no emotional reaction in her was of little surprise. He did, after all, live and work at the diner. There was nothing new or unusual about him arriving from some unknown destination. The moment was so innocuous that Lorelai was almost able to consider him just another fellow townsperson rather than her ex-fiancé and the man who had broken her heart. In fact, she wondered if she was finally starting to get over him.
Unfortunately, what she was not prepared for was to see Luke walk around to the passenger side of his truck and open the door for someone. The person who got out was not his daughter, but a woman - a beautiful woman who he smiled at; even from the distance she was at, Lorelai could tell it reached his eyes.
A second later, the woman turned and Lorelai felt her first real emotions in weeks.
Rachel.
Having avoided her emotions for so long, Lorelai was almost immediately overcome by the rush of feelings that washed over her. Jealousy hit first, a punch to her gut. Anger came neck-in-neck with regret, striking her in the chest so forcefully that she was left breathless by the combination. Jealousy mixed with longing and self-loathing touched her last, like rough hands pushing her down, dragging her into a pit of depression.
She watched as Luke took Rachel's bags out of the back of his truck and escorted her into the diner. She could see through the window as Luke took the woman's things upstairs as she followed behind, like they had gone through the same motions a hundred times. Perhaps they had.
Her protective cocoon shattered, Lorelai stumbled in the direction of her house, all thoughts of where she was going or what she was doing having vanished. She wanted to be home. She wanted to curl up in her bed and cry and drown her sorrows in a gallon of Ben & Jerry's while watching whatever reality television show she could find. She did not want to think about Luke or the ex-girlfriend who was back in town and staying at his apartment.
Alas, despite all her intentions to the contrary, Lorelai thought about little else the rest of the day. Like a woman in mourning, she walked through her house room by room, thinking of the memories imbedded in the painted walls and renovated floors. At first she tried to focus on her times with Christopher and Gigi, but those quickly gave way to the more painful memories of Luke. Luke making her breakfast. Luke watching movies with her. Luke fixing her porch. Luke making love to her. The two of them fighting – silly fights and serious fights.
She suffered through the big memories, the times that would stay with her no matter what. Luke knocking on her door and kissing her senseless as a way of reconciling their first break-up. Their first major fight as a couple when he discovered that she had bought his father's boat. The ice rink he made her when she was having a bad day. Walking out onto her front porch to see him unloading the chuppah he had made her for her wedding to Max.
The memories stabbed through her randomly, like so many red-hot knives. Even the smallest gestures showed how much he knew her and how well they fit together as a couple. But the big things, those were what did her in. And before she knew it, the tears were running down her cheeks and she was dragging boxes out of the garage.
Rory had convinced her not to get rid of everything that reminded her of Luke, reasoning that one day she would miss it. So she had stored it all in plain, unmarked cardboard boxes in the garage. Even the chuppah had been put into a back corner, standing sad and lonely for so many months. Lorelai herself never went in there, so she had few opportunities to dwell on those items she had banished from her life.
But as she pulled them all out again, she lost herself in the memories and coinciding emotions. Books, clothes, DVDs, and a hundred other items. There was a birdfeeder Luke had once filled for her, and in the process spilling the sugary liquid all over his pants. Paul Anka had followed him around for a week, and the incident had inspired Lorelai's "sugar toes" moment with Rory. There was the shirt of Luke's that she used to sleep in during cold winter months. An old hat he would wear when mowing the lawn. A porcelain figurine of a blue elephant her mother had once given her that had no connection to Luke except being the exact color of his eyes.
Sorting through the items, Lorelai realized that the reason the reminders of Luke hurt so much was not because they had painful connections, but rather due to the pleasant memories they evoked. Years of friendship, months of engagement. A thousand perfect moments with the one man in the world who seemed to understand her. And it was all gone. She had lost him.
The remaining numbness deserted her suddenly, and the wave of emotions she had been holding at bay came bubbling up. She fought the urge to cry but within seconds had to give up the fight for fear of choking herself with unexpressed sorrow. Her body shook violently as she began sobbing right there on the ground in front of the garage. She desperately held the flannel shirt to her chest, clinging to it like a lifeline as she finally allowed herself to experience the feelings of loss she had been hiding from for so long.
For a long time, Lorelai felt nothing but pain. Not the dull, aching feeling that eventually recedes into the background of an otherwise busy life. No, her body throbbed with a sharp, fresh ache. She had not thought the pain would be so acute, so very physical and real. But part of her was glad of the sensation. Finally, she was feeling something.
Maybe once she got through the agony, she would be able to heal.
But just as quickly as the thought occurred to her, Lorelai also realized that she did not want to heal. She did not want to be over Luke. She had spent so much time pretending away her feelings, she wanted nothing more than to revel in her own misery for a while. After all, she had lost the love of her life, the only man she had ever really loved. She had lost him, and now she was all alone among her memories while he was taking Rachel up to his apartment.
Fresh tears emerged, although she had no idea from where. She idly wondered how long the human body could produce tears before it became impossible to cry any longer. Her sinuses had begun to clog up as each sob was accompanied by a sniffle. Rubbing futilely at her eyes, she felt certain she looked as terrible as she felt.
And then, she set eyes on her old turkey baster, the red rubber end sticking up out of a nearby box. She was immediately transported to the night she had spent watching Paul Anka when he was sick, worried about him and Rory both. Luke had found her there the next morning, huddled in the chair next to her dog. And he had not made fun of her for the baster or putting Paul Anka's jersey on him. He had merely sat beside her, giving her support and comfort with his words and gentle touch. She had been crying then too, the tears making her eyes red and blotchy. But his expression of concern never wavered.
Strong arms took hold of her shoulders from behind, and for a moment Lorelai was confused by the vividness of the memory. But within a second she realized that the touch was not only real but also very familiar.
Though she could not see him, his smell wrapped around her as securely as his arms, encasing her in irresistible warmth and security. She felt him press his face into her hair, and the motion unconsciously forced from her a deep, gut-wrenching sob. No longer sure if she cried from sadness or relief, she leaned back into him and put her arms around his, needing the contact he offered more than anything else.
Lorelai still had not actually seen his face as he knelt on the ground behind her. But she heard him whisper softly into her ear, "Its okay. Everything's going to be okay." Luke's voice was deep and soothing as he tried to hush her weeping. He kept one arm around her while the other made comforting motions, rubbing her arm or pulling her hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear.
Gradually, she began to calm down and respond to his tender words and reassuring physical presence. Her deep sobs faded into sniffles, and the rivers of tears slowed to a bare trickle down her already soaked cheeks.
"Are you okay?" he asked her after a moment, and it was clear that he was not expecting an answer. He simply spoke so that she would hear him and know that he was there for her. "Maybe we should get you inside…"
Without further consultation, he readjusted his grip on her body and moved so that his face was in her field of vision. Lorelai only had a second to see unshed tears mirrored in his eyes before she felt herself being scooped up like a child and carried towards the house. She unconsciously wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly even though she knew he would never drop her, no matter how awkward and heavy a burden she might prove.
Luke carried her easily, although he walked slowly as he took the steps one at a time and used his foot to push open the front door she had left open a crack in her earlier haste. He moved carefully through the foyer, twisting his body so that he would not bump her against the walls before arriving at the couch.
At first, he bent to set her down, but when she made no effort to disentangle her arms from his neck, he simply turned and sat down on the couch himself, gathering her into his lap. But as he settled himself, he felt her grip the collar of his shirt and heard her crying begin anew.
Lorelai attempted to speak, to explain herself or apologize, but the words came out garbled and unintelligible. Her tears kept getting in the way, but she refused to remove her hands from Luke's shirt to wipe at them. At the same time, she made a conscious effort not to stain his soft flannel shirt with unwanted moisture.
As the emotions that had wracked her so suddenly earlier began to die down, Lorelai was confronted by new feelings: disgust with herself for making such a scene, embarrassment at having been found by Luke, and astonished gratitude at his presence. She knew she should pull herself together and let him go, but she felt so good in his arms, so cherished and adored, that she simply could not bring herself to disengage.
Instead, once her voice began to return to her, she whispered simply, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Shh… it's okay. It's okay," he responded, and deep down, she believed him. If Luke said it was going to be okay, it would be okay. He would make it okay, if necessary. He always made everything okay.
She drifted to sleep in the safe comfort of his embrace.