Epilogue
This was a big decision. The most important decision in my life, one might say. Yet I was not in the proper state to make such judgment, as I sat with a ball of nerves in the pit of my stomach. My heart was beating too fast. My lungs couldn't extend to their full capacity. My hands were shaking, and my white dress was undoubtably too tight.
Breathe Rory, breathe, I coaxed myself and squeezed my eyes shut. I thought of my husband-to-be, who was the epitome of someone strong and true. He was not perfect. No one truly was. However, after all these years, I truly believed that he could be perfect for me. That was the problem though. The word "could". Was I proud enough to walk down the aisle and swear to love this imperfect man for an eternity, solely based on the word "could"?
How did I get here? How did I turn into this indecisive, guilt-ridden wreck, on my wedding day? I squeezed my eyes even tighter, and gathered all my efforts into remembering a simpler, carefree time. Yet, the pictures that flooded the darkness before me were all of him. He was certainly not simple, though he was carefree. Or so he seemed.
Chapter One
September 15, 2000
"Mom, did I really have to wear this?" I whined, while tugging on the fluffy straps of my fluffy dress, as my mom and I walked up the steps to my grandparent's mansion. It was Friday night, which meant dinner at my grandparent's. This was a newly established tradition ever since I started going to Chilton High two weeks ago.
"Kiddo, trust me, this is nothing compared to what I had to endure at your age. Your dress would laugh in the face of the dresses I wore back in the days if they ever met."
I half groaned, half laughed. "Personification of dresses aside, who are these guests Grandma invited to dinner?"
"Er, some rich snobs with a rich son who you're way too good for?" My mom turned to me, and looked me straight in the eyes. "No matter how many diamonds and mansions this guy buys you, Rory, the fruit of my loin, do not fall for his tricks, kapeesh?"
I rolled my eyes, and suppressed a chuckle. "Rest assured, I'm 16. I don't need diamonds and mansions. What I need is a pristine transcript to get me into Harvard."
"That's my girl." She grinned as she rang my grandparent's doorbell.
In the matter of seconds, Grandma was at the door, beaming with the fake smile she wore whenever there were guests. "Rory! Lorelai! Come on in."
"Wow, Mom, that's a first. Did you switch careers to become a professional doorman? Thirty something years, and I don't remember being personally greeted at the door, ever." My mom chuckled the way she knew would get to Grandma.
"Lorelai, please," Grandma replied, dismissing my mom like she was an errant child. "Rory." She grabbed my arm and rushed me inside. "Meet my dear friends."
"Hello, dear." A middle-aged, well dressed woman offered her hand.
"This is Mr. and Mrs. Huntzberger. We go way back." My grandpa announced as he approached my mom and I with drinks in hand.
"Nice to meet you" I nodded politely.
Mr. and Mrs. Huntzberger stepped aside to reveal a blonde-haired boy clad in a suit. He looked a few years older, maybe twenty? His mannerism, on the other hand, was that of a practiced socialite. His eyes caught mine as he gave a charming smile and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, Rory."
Amused by the way he carried himself, like he was years older than he looked, I held back a smirk as I replied, "Likewise."
He must have noticed, because his smile grew just a bit wider. It was a nuance only I had caught.
After dinner, I excused myself to the ladies' room, while really I was venturing into my grandfather's library. I had read the Catcher in the Rye last week and couldn't wait to have the book in my hands again. My grandfather had a collector's edition of the book. Its pages smelled old, like stories and history. The copy I had in my room was borrowed from the library, and smelled like old newspaper. I knew Grandpa would let me borrow it if I asked, but I didn't want to upset my mom. I knew she felt guilty for not providing me with the luxuries my grandparents could afford, although I was more than happy with our modest life in Stars Hollow.
"Whatcha reading?" A voice jolted me.
I looked up and caught sight of the boy standing in the doorway with the bright hallway light casting shadows on his face. What was his name again? Oh, right. Logan. Without replying, I lifted the book to reveal the cover page.
Squinting his eyes, he took a few steps until he was before me. "Classic," he said.
"You've read it?"
"A few times."
With his smug smile and perfectly tousled blonde hair, Logan didn't come off as someone who read classics.
The surprise must have registered on my face because he smirked and said, "What? You thought of me as more of a Pride and Prejudice sort of guy?"
A smile crept up my face. I sensed he was referring to Mr. Darcy, arrogant and wealthy. "I would be quite rude to form a judgment of you so soon." I shrugged.
"Ah, but you did." His eyes twinkled as he cocked his head to a side.
Taken aback, I blurted, "What?"
"I see the way you looked at me the second we met." He shook his head a little. "Why, I'm a spoiled, little rich boy. I go to Yale on my parent's dime."
Like a kid caught in a lie, my cheeks flushed and I shifted my gaze. "I've no idea where you got that impression."
A soft chuckle met my ears as he replied, "I'm teasing. Just trying to liven up this party."
Embarrassed, I tried to change the topic. "You go to Yale? What do you study?"
"Film production," he replied while once again holding my gaze. I started to notice the lights from the fireplace dancing across the room, and washing over his face.
"Cool." I nodded, as a deeper blush crept up my cheeks. I wasn't skilled at making conversation with college boys. I didn't even have much experience talking to high school boys for that matter.
"What's your aspiration? Writing?" He gestured to the book in my hands.
"Journalism, actually." I gathered the sophistication in me and replied smoothly. "Good guess though."
My so-called eloquence was rewarded with another chuckle from Logan. "Thanks, Ace" he beamed at me. "You a reporter, and me a filmmaker, huh?" Logan began as he took a seat in the armchair across from mine. "What do you think are the odds of us making it big?"
"Better than winning the lottery."
"Ha, I'd hope so." His tone was half serious as he reached over to grab my book. I distinctly noticed how his fingertips brushed the back of my hand.
Looking up at him, our eyes met. His eyes were slightly dark in perfect contrast to the light locks of his hair. I decided then that he was handsome, and immediately felt warmth gather under my cheeks. I had crushes in school before, but Logan was a college boy, and there was something exciting about that. Until now, I had no idea that I liked "exciting".
"Rory?" My mom's voice came from the doorway.
"Mom!" I jumped.
"Grandma says it's time for dessert." My mom's eyes darted from me to Logan and back.
"Oh, okay," I hurriedly replied, feeling like I was caught in a horrible act.
"We'll be right there, Ms. Gilmore" Logan jumped in.
My mom gave a tight smile and threw a final look my way before disappearing down the hall.
"I'll put this back." Logan raised the book in his hands and walked to the rows of bookshelves.
I watched as he slid the book into the crevice. He turned around. "Ready for dessert, Ace?"
"Why do you call me Ace?" The question came out my mouth, curious.
"Ace reporter, you know, for when you make it big." He shot a charming smile my way.
A grin escaped me as I made my way to the door with Logan by my side.
I was just a girl, meeting a charming boy. I hoped to come off as cool and sophisticated, like him. I thought of things to say when we met again. However, Logan didn't come to dinner the following Friday, or the next. I didn't think I'd see him again.
Thanks for reading!
It's been a loong time since I last wrote! This story came to me yesterday, and I just had to pen it down... Enjoy!
