❝FIRST TEENAGE HEARTBREAK❞
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chapter twenty-six,
Gilmore Girls — Season Two
May 11th, 2001
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
[ LUCY'S POV ]
❝I LOVE YOU❞ is what I say, and I'm greeted with the beautiful sound of... silence.
Not hearing the words— the three words and eight letters— in my own ears from him shattered me in different ways, ways I hadn't expected. My chest tightens, my eyes widen in surprise and I slouch back in the seat in defeat. I feel foolish, embarrassed and ashamed that I said that.
I reach for the door handle, my eyes glistening with tears because I can't believe I did this. Have I ruined this? Was saying "I love you" the wrong thing to do? Did I say it too soon?
I believed we were on the right page, the page that ends in tears and laughter. I believed the page was there, that we were on it, declaring our love and having an ultimate kiss— one that would confirm everything. I believed after six months, we'd be at this stage but I was... I was wrong.
Tristan reaches out, stopping me from getting out the car. "Luce..." I don't turn to look at him. I don't want to see the sympathy on his face, so I stay and stare at the door handle. "Luce, please look at me. I'm sorry, I—"
I glance at him, my heart pounding, and I hate the look on his face— the look of sorrow, of sympathy for me. "You don't love me," I say, my voice cracking as I register the words. "I get it."
Tristan sighs, and he slumps back in his seat. He looks frustrated, and I don't wish to frustrate him any longer. I should just get out this car and leave him be but I, for some insane reason, can't walk away from him.
I love him. I really love him.
"Lucy, it's not that I don't, I just—" He pauses, and I stare down at my hands as I wait for him to find his words. "I can't say it. I have to mean it, okay? I want to mean it when I say it. I—"
"I get it," I say again, my voice cracking again.
"No, Lucy, you don't." Tristan turns to look at me, and I continue to stare down at the door handle. "Luce, please look at me."
I look directly at him. "What?"
"I've had a lot of people say it to me before." Gee, what a way to make me feel better. "I'm sorry, that was a stupid thing to say but— Okay, what I mean is, people have said it to me and not meant it. They just say it to get with me or..." He knows he's not making this situation any better, but he still continues to talk, "And I've said to people and not meant it, Lucy, but I want to mean it with you. I'm crazy about you."
"Right," I say bluntly. "Look, I gotta go, okay? Uh, it's nearly eleven so—"
"Lucy, I can't leave us like this."
I shrug, shaking my head. "Tristan, it's nearly eleven and I need to go. My dad will—"
"Lucy, I don't care," he interrupts, and I reach for the door handle again. "Please do not get out this car. Please. Talk to me, tell me how you feel."
"I told you how I feel." He clamps his mouth shut, and I finally find my words. "I'm sorry but that's how I feel and if you don't feel that way then I can't do this, okay? I don't think I can be with you when I feel how I feel. I can't..." My eyes water, and I try to shake it off. "It hurts, okay? It hurts to love you when you don't..."
"Lucy, please just—"
"Tristan, I have to go," I say, finally pushing the door open. "So just let me go."
"Don't go," he begs quietly, and his voice brings a pain to my chest. "Luciana, please do not get out of the car. Please don't walk away."
"I have to."
"Can I call you?" he asks, and I nod, putting one leg out of the door because I need to leave. "And you'll answer."
I place my other leg out the door. "Yeah."
I don't know if I'll answer when he eventually calls but I tell him I will either way. I need to get out this car, and I need to leave right now before all goes wrong, and I stay with him despite how he feels about me.
Tristan snatches my hand before I get out. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, and I nod, smiling sadly. "I'm gonna call you tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay," I reply, freeing my hand and finally getting out of the car.
Tristan doesn't drive away until I step into the diner and lock the door behind me. Dad lifts his head from the counter, and when he sees me, I think he knows. Of course he knows something's happened, he always does know.
I lean against the door, and I stare down at the floor as Dad steps over to me. "Luce..." He stops in front of me and he touches my shoulders. "Lucy, what happened?"
"I think we broke up," I say, shrugging my shoulders because I don't know if we actually broke up.
It felt like a breakup. It felt like a breaking of hearts, right? Mine doesn't feel like it's in the relationship anymore, but maybe Tristan's is still holding on, hoping that I don't leave but I can't possibly stay with somebody who doesn't feel the same as me.
Dad wraps his arms around me, and I stand frozen in his embrace. Shockingly, all my emotions seemed to have left me back in Tristan's car because now I feel completely empty and emotionless. God, what is wrong with me? I should be crying, I should be screaming, I should be heartbroken but I'm just... confused.
Dad plants his hands on my shoulders, and I peer up at him with a dazed expression. I think he's also confused. I can't say I'm surprised, I mean, he probably thought I'd turn into a piece of crumpled up paper at the idea of losing Tristan but I'm just lost.
"Luce?" I hum, my shoulders shrugging. "Tell me what happened? Did he try something? Do I need to—"
"I told him I loved him," I admit, and Dad's eyes widen. I obviously hadn't discussed the idea of being in love with him yet, so it's no surprise that he looks shocked. "He didn't say it back and... well, I think we broke up."
"Are you sure you broke up? I mean—"
"He didn't say it back," I reiterate, and Dad just nods. He then slips an arm around my shoulders and pulls me over to the counter where I take a seat at one of the stools.
He goes to make a new batch of coffee. "It's okay, I don't want coffee."
He looks taken aback, and if I felt an ounce of anything, I'd be surprised too.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
"What else is there to say? I said "I love you," and he just sat there, staring at me, and I got out the car and now I'm here." My voice remains calm, cool and collected. I'm not falling apart, something I thought I'd be doing because I was on the verge of tears minutes before so... what changed in the space of minutes?
I hear Dad sigh, and he places both hands on the counter in front of me. "How are you feeling?"
I look him in the eye. "Honestly? I don't know."
"Well, when you want to talk, I'm here." I smile, and I push myself off my chair and step around the counter to join my dad.
"Thanks, dad." I push a kiss against his cheek before I move past him to sulk upstairs.
I don't want to talk now, maybe not ever, and I don't know why but all I want to do right now is crawl into my perfectly made bed and sleep.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
[ LUKE'S POV ]
WHAT DOES ONE DO WHEN THEIR KID IS OBVIOUSLY HEARTBROKEN but won't talk about it? I ask myself this a million times throughout the day while Lucy goes about her usual chores. She helps me deal with customers, she helps me prepare food, and she even has a bickering match with Taylor.
She appears to be normal, but I know that she's gotta be feeling something inside. Tristan— that jerk— was her first boyfriend, and it's got to hurt. I mean, I don't have the best advice on relationships, but I'm here for her. I mean, she's my kid. I'll kill Tristan if she asked me too— she wouldn't— but I would. I'd do anything to fix the pain she must be feeling. She must be feeling something, right? But she won't talk about it.
She declared her feelings to a boy, something she hadn't discussed with me beforehand, and I was honestly surprised that she had done that. She's brave, much braver than me, and I hate Tristan for not loving her back.
How can he not love my daughter? She's smart, beautiful, incredible in more ways than one. He'll never find anybody more perfect than my kid, so what the hell was he thinking? Clearly, he wasn't, or they'd still be together.
I hate the kid. I hate him for doing this to her, even if she's acting completely normal... too normal.
Nobody in town knows, not yet, but I know that they'll figure it out soon enough. If anyone gives her any crap, I will beat their asses, I don't care who they are. Even though Lucy appears to be fine, I know that she'll talk to me when she's ready. Well, I hope she talks to me when she's ready.
Maybe she really is okay, and I should just leave her be, but I can't. She and Tristan aren't together anymore, and that's got to be bothering her, right? I should leave it alone. Just for now.
It's Saturday night, meaning we have our usual dinner at Sniffy's. I asked if she definitely wanted to go, but she was already dressed and raring to go. She's usually not this excited, but the second we walk into the restaurant, she's throwing her arms around Buddy and Maisie.
When she steps away to our usual seats, I walk towards the bar with Buddy and Maisie. I should talk to them. Maybe they'll be able to help me. But I also don't know if I should tell them about the breakup incase she doesn't want others to know.
But I do tell them because they're basically her grandparents, and she loves them. They can help.
"Tristan and Lucy broke up," I tell them, and the expression on their faces read surprise. Before they can interject with their own words, I speak first. "Before you say anything, Lucy doesn't want to talk about it. She seems... fine. I don't know, but she won't talk to me. She's acting completely fine."
"Maybe she is fine," Buddy suggests.
I wish that was the explanation, but I'm not stupid. I know my daughter, and I know she's going to reach her breaking point. It may not be tonight, it may not be in a week, but it'll happen. That boy changed her life in a million ways, and she loves him. Nobody gets over that.
"She said she loved him," I tell them, and their mouths gape. "She's not okay. I just..." I look behind me to see her reading the menu— something she always does without fail— and I smile sadly. "She loves him. You don't get over that."
Maisie and Buddy hum quietly, acknowledging me, and I pat a hand against the counter. "I should get back to her. Just... don't mention it to her, okay? And don't be weird."
I know they'll want to comfort her and give her anything she wants, but for now, they need to leave her be. Until I figure out what she's thinking, I don't need anybody, especially Buddy and Maisie, getting involved. I know they mean well, and I know they love Lucy, but I want her to talk when she's ready.
When I reach the table, I give her shoulder a squeeze as I settle into my seat. "You know, every time I read the menu, I half expect it to change but no, the dog still dies." She laughs half-heartedly, and I smile.
She always reads the damn menu, and I don't know why. "I remember when you first read it. You were six, and I had stepped away to the bathroom, and when I came back, you were sobbing," I recall, and I hear Lucy laugh, but it's not the usual, bubbly noise I'm used to. She sounds defeated, upset, and I just wish she'd talk to me because I hate that she feels like this.
Her laugh doesn't even sound like her own. I fear she's putting on an act, and I don't know why. She can talk to me. She's always been able to talk to me. I've always been able to talk to her. So why is she hiding behind this facade?
"Well, the dog died," she argues defensively.
"I tried to hide that menu from you for so long, and now every time we come here, you read the damn thing." The menu won't change, just like her feelings for Tristan won't change, but I don't say anything. I want to say something, but I don't want to push her. I've never been one to demand anything of her, and if she isn't ready to talk, she isn't ready to talk.
Maisie and Buddy step over to our table with our usual drinks, and I see a sympathetic smile plastered on Maisie's face when she places her hand against Lucy's arm. Hopefully Lucy won't notice, but they're being very obvious, especially when they say, "Whatever you want, honey, we'll get it for you, okay? Anything."
I glare at Maisie, and I shake my head while Lucy laughs awkwardly. "Okay. Thanks, Maisie."
When they begin to back away, I direct my head shaking towards them, and they just shrug and pout. They begin to whisper, and I know for a fact that they're talking about Lucy. I really shouldn't have told them, but then they might've said something to Lucy and triggered her, which I would've hated more.
I clear my throat, and I direct my attention towards Lucy who sips on her cherry coke. "Kid, I think—"
"I'm gonna use the bathroom, okay?" She shoots up from her seat, and I don't even get to say anything as she's already moving away.
The second she's gone, I fear the worst. Does she know that Maisie and Buddy know? Is she mad at me? Upset? Frustrated? Should I go after her and talk to her? What if she's crying in that bathroom, and I'm here doing nothing. My heart pounds in my chest, and I haven't been this anxious in years.
Since becoming a father sixteen years ago, this anxiety in my chest never goes away. I fear the worst whenever she's not around, and due to her vulnerable state, I'm practically shaking in my seat, worried that she won't come out of the bathroom with a happy demeanour.
I just don't know what to do in this situation. Maybe it's written somewhere. Maybe I can read a freaking book about what to do when your kid is heartbroken. God, I'm pathetic. I can't even offer her any kind of advice because I drive people away faster than a car does. I'm not fit to give my advice on the subject, but I can be there for her as her dad.
I don't know what to do.
Maisie steps over to me, and I turn my attention from the bathroom door to her. "She's not okay, Maisie, I just—" I pause, swallowing the feeling in my throat. "I don't know what to do."
"Luke, you being here for her is all she needs," Maisie assures me, but I still feel completely useless, and my chest aches. "All she's ever needed is you— her dad."
And all I've ever needed is her— my perfect, intelligent, beautiful daughter— but she's hurt, and I can't do anything to ease the pain.
"I hate that kid," I mutter, and Maisie scoffs. I furrow my eyebrows when I see her shake her head.
"You don't hate him. You hate that he isn't with Lucy anymore. You hate that he hurt her, but you don't hate him, Luke." I'm confused, doesn't that mean I just hate him for a lot of reasons? Maisie can read my confusion, and she rambles on. "I think you actually liked the kid. He made her happy, and I think you were hopeful. It's nobody's fault that this didn't work out, it just didn't work out, and sometimes it just doesn't. She's young, they'll be other people."
I actually grimace at the idea of others— of other boys wanting to with my daughter, of other boys meeting me. I hate the idea of it.
"You don't hate him," Maisie repeats. "You just wish he could see what he's going to miss out on because Lucy is an incredible kid."
"That she is," I say, my eyes moving to the door that hasn't opened. "Is it ridiculous that I thought he'd stick. Is it my fault for approving? Should I have been harder on him or—"
"Some people find the one young," Maisie tells me, and I nod, understanding her because she and Buddy have been together since high school, according to the menu. "Some people don't, but it's not ridiculous of you to imagine your daughter being with her first boyfriend forever. Hell, from the way she talked about him, I thought he'd be the one."
High school relationships are destined to fail, but they can also work out and be a wonderful thing. Maisie and Buddy are still happily married, and they love each other. I admire their relationship, and I hope to someday have that. I also want that for Lucy too, but I may have been crazy to think she'd be with her first ever boyfriend forever. A part of me hoped there wouldn't be anymore after Tristan, I guess.
"He told me that he planned on sticking around," I say, recalling our first conversation where I warned him about hurting my kid. "I should've known better."
"This isn't your fault, Luke." Maisie places her hand on my shoulder, reassuring me, but I still feel entirely useless. "She fell in love. Nobody can help that."
I understand that too. Nobody can predict who they fall in love, definitely not me anyway.
Once upon a time, I thought Rachel would be the one for me, but I was very, very wrong about that. Before Rachel, I imagined me and Anna would be more, but that ended just as abruptly too and I haven't heard from her in eight years. The only person I knew I'd never, ever end up with was Lucy's mother, and I haven't got a clue where she is, but I still hate her everyday for abandoning the perfect girl that is Lucy.
I lift myself off my seat, and I thank Maisie before I make my way towards that bathroom door— the door that hasn't reopened since Lucy stepped in five minutes ago. I know I should leave her alone but—
Actually, no I shouldn't leave her alone, not right now. I want her to know that I'm here, and that I'm not going anywhere, not until she speaks to me.
I knock on the door. "Luce?" No answer. "Hey, can you open the door for me, kid? You've been in there for..." I pause, reaching for the handle and I'm surprised to see that it's opened. I look behind me at Maisie and she offers me a sympathetic look before turning away as I push open the door.
I don't know what I was expecting when I opened the door, but it certainly wasn't my daughter sat on the floor with her knees pulled up to her face while she cries.
Instinctively, I sink to the floor and I immediately wrap my arms around her. She sinks into me, her head falling against my chest and her arms weakly closing around my arm as I hold onto her. She's crying loudly, and I imagine people outside the bathroom will hear us, but I don't care.
She clutches onto me, and I run my hand through her hair soothingly while she sobs against me. I've never heard her cry like this, and the feeling in my chest only expands and explodes into sheer fear and protectiveness. I've got to take care of her, I've got to assure her that she isn't alone, not right now, and I'm not going anywhere.
I catch a glimpse of the bracelet— the one Tristan gave her— on her wrist, and I hold onto her tighter. She hasn't taken it off, and I wonder if it triggered her to have this breakdown. The bracelet acts as a reminder of what they have— of what they were— and I fear it's the cause for this.
My beautiful, smart, incredible daughter is crying on the floor of a restaurant bathroom over a boy— a boy who I decide is no longer worth it. She shouldn't be crying, not over him. It's his loss, and I hope he's realising what a mistake he made. How can he not love her?
I push a kiss against her head. "It's okay," I say calmly, my hand continuing to move through her hair. "It's okay, kid. I've got you."
She buries her face into my shoulder, and her arms come up to cuddle around my neck. She hasn't cried on me in years. It takes me by surprise, but I reciprocate the action, and I hug her back tightly.
Before Lucy, I never would've sat on the floor of a bathroom for anyone, but now I'm here, and I'm not letting go until she does.
"It's okay," I repeat, my hand rubbing down her back, and Lucy's head only buries itself deeper into my collarbone.
Her sobbing has subsided, but I know that she's still crying. My shirt is wet from her tears, but I don't care. I just stay with her, and I just rub a hand against her back, her hair, her face until she's calmed down.
"It hurts," she admits, her voice timid and broken. It breaks my heart to hear her talk like this. "He didn't love me."
"I'm sorry, kid." I push another kiss against her head, but I don't know how much I can do. I don't even know what to do to ease this pain. Nothing will make this better. Not having somebody love you back in the same way, it... it hurts and I know nothing will erase the pain Lucy is feeling right now.
She brings her face back from my shoulder, and I take her face into my hands, brushing the tears away with the pads of my thumb. She looks me in the eye, and I could cry at how vulnerable she is, at how broken up she is over Tristan.
"You're loved, okay?" I tell her, and Lucy nods. "It's his loss, kid. You're incredible, and if I could fix this, I would, but I can't. Things may not seem good right now, but they'll get better, I promise. You won't feel this hurt forever, I assure you."
"It hurts." She places a hand against her heart, and I push her hair away from her face with a frown on my face. "It really—"
"I know, kid. I know."
It'll hurt for sometime, but she's going to be okay. Lucy is strong, I know that much, and for the foreseeable future, Tristan is dead to me.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
authors note:
welp this was a sad chapter...
i might not upload another chapter for a few days, i haven't written much of the story after this chapter but they'll be a new one by the end of the week :)