The Forgotten Gilmore

Chapter Seventy-One: The Weight of Silence

The quiet hum of the late-night campus echoed around Riley as he leaned against the side of a stone building, waiting for Beau. The crisp autumn air tugged at his jacket, but it wasn't uncomfortable. There was something refreshing about the night—something that made it easier to breathe.

Beau arrived a few moments later, walking with his usual loose, carefree swagger, but Riley could see through it. He knew Beau well enough by now to pick up on the subtle signs when he was trying to mask something.

"Hey," Riley greeted, giving him a nod.

Beau grinned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Hey yourself. Miss me?" he teased, his voice light, but there was an edge to it.

Riley smirked, pushing off the wall. "Always."

They walked side by side in comfortable silence, the moonlight casting long shadows across the path. Beau shoved his hands into his pockets, his gaze focused ahead. Riley waited, knowing Beau would talk when he was ready.

"So, my parents called," Beau finally said, his tone casual, but Riley knew better.

"Yeah?" Riley asked, glancing over at him.

Beau let out a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah. I guess they're flying out to London tomorrow. Big case. You know, same old stuff."

Riley didn't say anything, just let the silence settle between them, waiting for Beau to continue.

And he did. Once Beau started talking, it was like he couldn't stop. The words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush, the weight of years of frustration and loneliness finally breaking free.

"I hadn't heard from them in weeks," Beau went on, his voice dropping. "And when I finally do, it's because they want to remind me that they're too busy to be around. Not that it's a surprise or anything. It's always been like this. When I was younger, I'd wait for them to come home from work, thinking maybe we'd have dinner together, maybe they'd ask me about my day. But it was always something—another client, another case, always an excuse."

There was something bitter in Beau's tone, a darkness that Riley wasn't used to seeing in him. Sure, Beau was usually the fun, carefree one, always cracking jokes and keeping things light, but beneath that exterior, Riley knew there was more. There always had been.

Riley remained quiet as they walked, letting Beau go at his own pace.

"I was nine when Lily was born," Beau said, his voice quieter now, like he was speaking more to himself than Riley. "Before that, it was just me and... well, me and the house, I guess. The Nanny, a few maids, but that was it. Big empty house, and no one gave a damn if I was there or not."

Riley felt a pang in his chest but didn't interrupt.

His words came faster now, the floodgates fully open. "And when they were home, it wasn't any better. They'd be stressed, snapping at each other, taking phone calls during meals. Dad would get angry at the smallest things, and when he did, I had to be careful. Real careful. He never really...held back when he was pissed. Mom would just stand there and watch like she didn't even care." Beau's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as if he was remembering something.

Riley's hand clenched into a fist at his side, anger bubbling beneath the surface, but he kept his voice even. "Beau—"

"It's fine," Beau cut him off, though his tone wasn't convincing. "I mean, it's not fine, but... you know what I mean. It's not like they were ever really around enough to make a difference. Lily was born, and things changed a little, but by then, I was already used to it. They weren't interested in me, not really. Too busy being high-powered lawyers and whatever."

Riley didn't say anything for a while, just let the weight of Beau's words hang in the air between them.

"Do they ever... reach out now?" Riley asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.

Beau shrugged. "Not unless they need to remind me about some fancy dinner or trip they're taking without me. Or, you know, if there's some 'family' event they want to parade me at for the cameras."

Riley's chest tightened. He couldn't imagine what it must've been like, growing up in that kind of environment, the constant neglect, the feeling of being invisible in your own home.

"I'm sorry," Riley said finally, his voice low.

Beau gave him a small smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "It is what it is. I'm used to it."

But Riley knew Beau wasn't as unaffected as he pretended to be. The carefree, wild persona was a mask, a way of hiding the hurt that ran deeper than he let on.

They stopped by the edge of the campus, where the streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement. Beau stared up at the sky, his hands still shoved deep in his pockets.

"I don't usually talk about this stuff," Beau admitted after a while, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable.

Riley reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm. "You can always talk to me. I'm really glad you did, Beau."

Beau glanced at him, his expression softening. "Yeah?"

Riley nodded. "Yeah."

There was a brief silence before Beau leaned in, resting his forehead against Riley's shoulder for a moment, a gesture that spoke louder than words. Riley wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer, offering silent comfort in the only way he knew how.

Beau stayed there for a few moments, letting the quiet of the night wrap around them, before finally pulling back. He forced a smile, but this time, it was a little more genuine.

"Guess I've got some emotional baggage, huh?" Beau said, his voice carrying a hint of his usual humor, but the vulnerability still lingered in his eyes.

Riley looked at him, his expression softening as he gave a small, genuine smile. "I'd love you anyways."

Beau blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the honesty in Riley's voice. The usual joking tone was gone, replaced with something real, something solid. Beau's smile faltered, then grew into something deeper, more genuine.

"Yeah?" he asked softly, his eyes searching Riley's face.

"Yeah," Riley replied, without hesitation. "Baggage and all."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick with unspoken emotions, the connection stronger than the need for words. Beau looked away briefly, as if trying to gather himself, before glancing back at Riley.

"Guess I'm lucky, then."

Riley smirked, his playful tone returning. "Damn right you are."