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hey
finally, after an half of an eternity, the new part...
thx to Tina and Jule, love ya. The next chapter's for you.
Chapter 2 : No Explanation
It was a small piece of paper. Now, Luke was 100 percent sure that this handwriting was Lorelai’s. Slowly, he began to read:
Dear Luke,
I am sorry for doing this. I truly am. But I have no other choice. It’s nobody’s fault. Not yours, not Rory’s. Just mine. Please, tell Rory about that.
In love,
Lorelai
Luke turned the paper around. But there was nothing more. Just those words.
He couldn’t believe that Lorelai hadn’t written more. Explained nothing.
He was disappointed. At the moment, he saw that letter, he had hoped Lorelai would have given him a clue, where she did go or whether she was alive...
But nothing. Again, Luke turned the letter to read the message. But no hint. Not even a hidden one. He stared at the piece of paper for minutes. Slowly, the ink began to lose its way. Luke hadn’t been aware that he was crying.
But then, another feeling rose inside of him. It was anger. Anger about why she didn’t say anything. Rage climbed up his body, reached his heart and chained it.
He tore the letter into pieces. Just like he wanted to tear his life apart. They had been so happy and now he was sitting there all alone with a load of thoughts, depths and questions.
Luke stood up and walked out the house. And ran. Ran without any direction. Just to get away from the house, from the memories, from the letter, from everything. Just away from anything that could remind him of her.
He only stopped, as he arrived at a forest, four miles away from Stars Hollow. He caught up for air and leaned against a tree. Motionless he stood there for a few minutes, collecting himself. For the first time in days, he managed to think clearly. To think everything over. But it didn’t help him. On the contrary, he got angrier and angrier.
His fist was now hitting the trunk of the tree. Again and again. All over again. And with every punch, yelling on top of his lungs:
"Why? Tell me, why!"
After a few minutes his powers fell. He got exhausted and sunk down to the ground. He just didn’t get it. Nothing happened between them. Not a tiny little thing. Of course, Luke had noticed that she was a little absent. But she had been before sometime. But this time, obviously, she couldn’t handle it, whatever it was.
But why?
Minutes and hours went by, finally Luke felt able to walk back to their house. But this time very slowly. Conscious of every single step.
As he arrived there, he saw Mia’s car parking in front of it. Obviously, they had arrived before he did. He unlocked the door and carefully stepped in. There was no sign that Mia and Rory were there, but then Luke could hear voices from upstairs. Consequently, he decided to walk into his bedroom. Arriving there, he noticed the two women sitting on his very own bed, holding the pieces of Lorelai’s letter. As they spotted Luke standing there, both of them immediately sprang up and approached to him, looking closely at him.
"Where have you been? I was worried about you leaving, too...", Rory’s voice cracked and she hugged him.
"I’m sorry, sweetie... I just couldn’t stand it here... I had to get away... I am sorry... So, you found that letter, huh?", Luke answered, rather mumbling into Rory’s hair than speaking out loudly.
"Yes, we did. But it... it just... it just didn’t tell us... anything."
Rory looked up at her beloved father. His eyes were kind of dewy but they didn’t tell her anything. They were empty. Scarcely empty.
Suddenly, Mia chimed in the talk, looking at Luke’s hand.
"Lucas, you’re bleeding! What have you done?"
"Oh", Luke began, "Nothing, it’s okay. Never mind."
"Come on, let’s go to the bathroom to clear it. Come on", Mia said, took Luke by the hand and they left Rory behind.
"You’re okay? I mean... are you?"
Luke sighed, then he answered.
"I’m fine. Or I’m trying to... This letter just freaked me out. I thought she would have... I don’t know... explained anything or just... something."
"I know, I know... I’m sorry, but can I ask you a question, Lucas?"
Luke nodded and just added, "Yeah, sure. Shoot."
"Was she different the last days you saw her... I mean, did she act weirder than normal?"
Luke tried to remember. He racked his brains and focused back to the time eight days ago.
Luke opened his eyes. He had had a wonderful dream. An happy one. And the best of it, the dream was reality. He just had dreamt of Lorelai’s proposal three years ago in his diner.
Inevitable, Luke had to smile but then he heard a noise coming from the bathroom. Quickly, Luke got up and followed his wife’s voice.
Lorelai was sitting on the cold bathroom floor. She was pale like the tile floor surrounding her. Obviously, she had just thrown up.
Luke sat down beside her and brushed a strand of hair out of her beautiful face.
"Hey, hon. What’s up? You’re ill?"
Lorelai remained in silence, she just looked at him. A few moments passed without a word but Luke could see that something lay heavy on her heart. As Lorelai finally began to speak, the expression of her face changed into more positive ways.
"No", she slowly answered, "I don’t think I’m getting ill. I guess, it’s just the marshmallows I ate, after the two pizzas yesterday. I just had too much."
She tried to smile and it worked for Luke.
"How’s that possible?", he began to joke, his uneasy feeling lighting up a little bit, "You can never have enough."
He kissed her on the cheek, helped her to get onto her feet and walked her back into their bedroom.. They laid down in silence, then, suddenly, Lorelai opened her eyes and then her mouth.
"Luke, do you love me?"
Luke looked up, slightly shocked about that question,
"Of course, I do. I always have and always will, Lorelai. Why would you ask such a thing?"
Lorelai just smiled weakly and then said,
"I was just checking."
Again, Luke kissed her and closed his eyes. He felt better, not so much worried as before. Maybe she really just ate too much.
"Nothing’s wrong", he told himself and turned around. And a few minutes later, Luke was dead asleep.
Unaware that Lorelai didn’t reply his I love you.
Unaware that she silently cried herself to sleep.
Unaware that he would maybe never see her again.