She never intended to leave it at that. That ultimatum, that sickly final goodbye… her secret moments crying silently in the janitor's closet before returning to Lorelai outside. It was never the plan.
He hung up the cheap plastic phone, clicking shut the best thing he'd ever opened. He walked unseeingly down the road to the beach and threw his duffel bag on the perfect sand. As the sun shone over a lazy California afternoon, he waded into the ocean, stopping only to shed his thick leather jacket. He stopped only when he could barely keep his head afloat. As the waves crashed down upon his face, over and over again, he closed his eyes. This wasn't the plan.
Lorelai had gone out for some reason or another. It didn't matter. She was just relieved to drop the façade of keeping it together. But today, there were no tears. It had been a week of crying herself to sleep, but today, she was moving forward like she had told him she would over the phone. There was a new plan.
He waved goodbye to his father and his new family from the bus window. He had come 3000 miles to California to confirm that he hated it just as much as he had originally thought. Time to go back to New York, his original destination. This was his plan.
She didn't know what to think of this new boy Logan. He was cute, but arrogant and so…simple. He didn't challenge her; he couldn't. She hated that she still measured everyone by comparison to him. She shoved him out of her mind. Her plan was working. Yale, editor of the Daily News, her future… it was all working.
He thanked everyone and wished them goodnight. The book launch had been successful, for a small-scale novel. He was finally getting it together. She had been right and he had never believed her. Why else would he have left? But right there, alone in the bookstore, he realized she was right. She was right. He stuffed the book in his bag and headed for the first bus out of town. This was the final plan.
She stood awkwardly as he told her how wrong Logan was. She knew every word he said was true. She found herself staring more into his hurt eyes than listening to anything he said. In them, she saw the full weight of his disappointment. She watched him leave… again. Her plan had failed.
He didn't plan this. She was here on her own. By herself.
She hadn't planned this. She kissed him.
He watched her leave… this time he knew… for the last time.
She cried herself to sleep that night for the first time in years.
In the beginning there was a plan, and in every plan there was a beginning. But now… there was no plan at all.