You sat on the edge of your bed, knees pulled tightly to your chest, tears streaming silently down your cheeks. The air felt thick and unmoving, like even breathing hurt. You could hear your own ragged breaths echoing in the quiet room and smell the faint scent of your lavender lotion on the sheets.

The door opened softly, and Lorelai appeared in the doorway. One look at you, and the lightness usually in her face was gone. She didn't say anything at first; she just crossed the room, the floorboards creaking slightly under her weight, sinking onto the bed beside you without hesitation.

When she wrapped her arms around you, you collapsed into her chest, the dam breaking. The sobs came harder, and Lorelai held you tighter, her own breath unsteady against your hair. You could feel the warmth of her body through her sweater and smell the familiar combination of coffee and vanilla that always clung to her.

"I can't—" your voice cracked, barely audible. "I can't do this, Mom."

Lorelai's hand slid gently over your back, her voice soft, broken. "I know, baby. I know."

"It's like he didn't even care," you whispered, the words shaking as they left you. "Like none of it mattered. Like I didn't matter."

Lorelai froze for just a second, her arms tightening around you as though she could hold your pain for you. When she spoke, her voice trembled despite how hard she tried to keep it steady. "Don't you ever think that," she whispered. "You matter more than you'll ever understand. To me. To everyone who loves you. He... he doesn't get to decide that."