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“I love you.”
Okay. He said it. Out loud. To her.
He’d had dreams like this before, nightmares, really, where he stands in front of her and bares his soul and she laughs. Or spits in his face. Or slaps him.
He never foresaw her silence.
It’s worse than anything he could have dreamed up and he feels so….he feels so…..what does he feel? Relieved, because he finally told her. Guilty, because he freaked out on Luke earlier and Luke still tried to slip him some money on the downlow. A little hungry. And scared. Because Rory still wasn’t saying anything and God, eons had passed! Jess could practically feel his hair growing!
Jesus Christ, she wasn’t even looking him in the eyes. All that time he had spent hiding from her and now she was trying to hide in plain sight. Why wouldn’t she look at him? Come on, come on, Rory, just look at me and you’ll know I mean it, you’ll know it’s right, you’ll know that this is the only patently real thing in this world. Look at me. Say something.
He couldn’t take it. He had to leave before he crumbled into dust right here on Main Street, USA, with paper mache stars twinkling above their heads. He turned slowly, so slowly, trying to give her a chance to at least sucker punch him, but she didn’t move. Her gaze was rooted somewhere behind him, in the lower left corner.
This was the dumbest thing, this was the dumbest thing ! Why did he do this? What did he think would happen? Jesus fucking God damn it all to shit fucking hell mother fu-
“Jess.”
He froze. She said that, right? He wasn’t hallucinating? He spun slowly on his heel and she was stepping closer and her eyes , her eyes were looking right into his. This was real. The only real thing he had ever touched.
“Yeah?” He finally choked out.
“How could you?” Her words were angry, but her face was calm and impassive and Jess, fuck, Jess had done so many things that he didn’t even know what she was asking him to explain.
“How could I….?” God, even at moments like this, he still couldn’t banish the sneering tone from his voice. Maybe he should go to a speech therapist. Or affect an Australian accent. Or stop talking all together.
“How could you leave me?” Rory wasn’t crying, not yet, but Jess knew what would happen. The tears would fill her eyes as they argued, maybe one would slowly wind its way down her cheek. Then, she would go home and cry her eyes out on her little pink twin size bed where no one, not even her mom, would see her. Marcus Aurelius would’ve been proud.
“How could I leave you?” Jess was stunned and repeating everything she said and it was annoying as hell, so he wasn’t surprised when she shoved his chest, hard.
“Stop doing that!” She snapped, breathing hard. “God, I can’t get one straight answer out of you, not even after everything that’s happened!”
“Jesus, give me a chance to think, okay?” Jess matched her anger, trying to banish the almost weepy feeling that was welling up inside him. Maybe this will be easier if we’re mad .
“No, talk. Now.”
“For someone who word-vomits every day of her life, you’re being awfully succinct tonight.”
“Jess.”
“I screwed up, I know that, but I don’t know….” he pressed his lips together, trying to stay calm, cool, and collected. “I didn’t wanna leave you. You know that, right? That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Well, you made it look easy.”
“I love you, Rory,” Jess said and even he could hear the defeat in his tone. “I loved you then, too. And I can’t see a day where I’ll ever stop loving you.”
“Stop it, I don’t wanna hear this!” She yelled, fists clenched at her sides. “You don’t get to come back and-and say these things and make me think things have changed!”
“But what if they have?”
“They haven’t,” she shook her head, a grim smile on her face. “I know you, Jess. Nothing’s changed and nothing ever will.”
“I can change, I can !” Desperation dripped off of every syllable, but he didn’t care. “Just give me a chance-”
“I gave you a million chances, Jess. I’m done.”
“But I love you.”
“That doesn’t-” her breath hitched, like she could hardly get the words out. “That doesn’t matter.”
“Bullshit.”
“No!” She cried, the tears that had threatened to fall now trickling down her cheeks. “It’s not bullshit! Everything you did last year, that was bullshit! Everything you ever said to me, that was bullshit!”
“Rory-”
“Because if you really loved me, you wouldn’t have done that to me,” and now she was sobbing and Jess finally knew what she looked like when she cried because she had always hidden it from him before and God, he wished he was still living in ignorance because every tear, every gasp for air was a dagger to the heart.
“Rory,” he paused this time, knowing that she still had words stored up inside her, words that she had longed to spit at him.
“I loved you,” she said simply, staring at the ground. “And sometimes I think I still do.”
Even though she was crying, even though nothing about tonight was going the way he had tentatively sketched out, Jess’ heart leaped. Because if she loved him, if she felt even a fraction of what he felt for her, then he could fix this.
“You love me?”
“I don’t know,” Rory shrugged helplessly. “I look at you and-and I’m so mad and hurt, but sometimes I want you right next to me and I miss you and….I don’t know, Jess.”
“I’m sorry,” he finally sighed. “Just realized I never said that.”
“Typical,” Rory muttered.
“I’m sorry,” Jess repeated. “For everything. For leaving. For keeping things from you. For ever making you think that you did anything wrong. And for tonight.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sorry I did this to you. Again,” he chuckled darkly. “All I do is break you, heart and soul.”
“Jess-”
“I never meant to hurt you,” he stared fiercely into her eyes, trying to make sure she understood. “You have to know that, okay? I never wanted any of this to happen.”
“I….I know,” Rory said softly. She was looking at him strangely, like she didn’t believe what she was seeing. The tears had stopped, but their tracks still glistened on her face.
“I’m gonna go,” Jess squared his shoulders, trying to make himself feel stronger and more capable. “I’m gonna go and you’ll never have to deal with me again, okay? I’ll never hurt you again.”
And he turned around (again). He walked away from her (again). And (again) he stopped when she spoke.
“Jess!”
He turned around, wondering what last parting shot she would take, but no, she was walking towards him, closer and closer and- holy shit, is she gonna-?
Rory threw her arms around his neck and, without hesitation, crashed into him, like waves meeting the shore. Like fireworks exploding across the sky. Like the guitar solo from Hotel California (the Eagles were his guilty pleasure band, okay?).
They were kissing. She was kissing him. He was kissing her. And it wasn’t a dream. He knew it wasn’t a dream because in his dreams, Rory’s hair was still long and they weren’t at the fucking Firelight Festival and Kirk definitely wasn’t there, so yeah, this was real life. How could this be real life?
Jess surprised even himself by being the first one to break away.
“Rory,” he breathed out slowly, his forehead resting against hers and oh God, they were only 10 yards and a year away from that first night, the night it all began in earnest.
“Don’t ask me why I did that, because I don’t know,” she almost, just barely, laughed.
“Hey, I’m not questioning anything,” Jess felt the humor creeping into his voice and the smile on his face.
“Jess,” Rory stepped away and he could already feel the winds changing. Her face was suddenly serious and he knew what was coming next. Maybe.
“Rory,” he matched her somber tone, trying to keep things light for as long as he could. He didn’t know when the next opportunity for a little levity would present itself; he planned on taking full advantage of this situation.
“This doesn’t mean that-that everything’s going back to the way it was. I’m not doing that again and you’re not staying here and-and we’re not together. I don’t mean to hurt you, but I need to say it.”
“I know,” he said, smiling a little so she knew he wasn’t totally devastated. “That would’ve been a little too idealistic, huh?”
“I don’t want you to go,” she blurted out, looking surprised that she’d said anything.
“But you need me to,” Jess said gently.
“I think I….I think I just needed to say goodbye to you. A real goodbye.”
“Closure,” Jess supplied.
“Yes, exactly! Closure.”
“Glad I could help,” he snorted. “Well, I guess this is goodbye, then.”
“Yeah, I guess,” she said quickly, matching his official tone.
“Should we shake on it?”
“That seems….right,” Rory was still stone-cold serious, even though Jess had been joking. He gamely stuck out his hand anyway. Rory put out her own and Jesus, he could still feel the sparks that shocked him every time they made contact. She must have felt them, too, because she pulled him into her and hugged him, her face buried in his chest, her hair tickling his chin.
“Don’t disappear again.” Her voice was muffled.
“Wouldn’t that be easier?”
“I don’t want ‘easy,’” she pulled her face out of his jacket and wrinkled her nose. “I just….I need to know that you’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” Jess said softly, traces of a smile on his face.
“But I need to know you’ll keep being okay,” she rested a hand on his chest and he fought so hard against his urge to cup her cheek and lift her face to his, lips on lips and love on maybe-sorta-kinda-please love.
“Sorry, but I already have a parole officer.”
“Jess.”
“I’ll give you my phone number.”
“And you’ll stop changing it?”
“Maybe.”
“Jess!”
“Okay.”
And then she kissed him again, but this time, he could taste the goodbye. He knew this was final, that, barring a natural disaster or head injury, this was their last time. He was surprised that it didn’t hurt more.
“Goodbye, Jess,” she said quietly, smiling in that calm, quiet way she always did.
“Goodbye, Rory,” he smiled, too, but he was afraid she could see the falseness of it. She always saw through him.
And he turned around (again). He walked away from her (again). And this time, she let him.