Comment From Author: Hey guys just letting you know that this is the revised version of the first chapter. Thanks to my beta Bridget who I owe my life for helping me with this story! Thank you Bridget! Please read on from my boring comments as I hope you will find this story more thrilling than they are.
Rory was half asleep on the
couch in their penthouse around midnight when the door opened
quietly, shedding light into the room. She heard the shuffling of
feet, the hushed thud of a bag on the soft, plushy carpet, and the
opening and closing of the bedroom door. She felt more awake and
restless now, knowing that she would have to tell him either tonight
or tomorrow before he left for New York. A minute later she heard the
door open again as he exited and walked over to couch. He
walked in a slow stride. His footsteps were heavy with angst. He did
not want to face Rory. He knew she was on the other side of the
couch, and he wasn't to keen on taking away that barrier that was
keeping him safe. He hoped she wasn't furious. He knew she hated when
he told her he would be home before dinner and didn't show up until
midnight. He knew he should have called. And he knew that he deserved
whatever he was to receive yet his finger automatically fell toward
his dad and his dad's newspaper. But that wasn't right no matter how
bad his Mitchum was and Rory would never buy it. How could he explain
to her that it just wasn't simple anymore? He peeked over to
see if she was there and her chest tightened to the point where she
could hardly breath because she knew that she would have to tell him
tonight. He rounded the couch and sat on the coffee table opposite
her as he moved it closer to the couch...to her. He watched her,
thinking she was asleep, and reached out his hand to brush a few
strands of hair out of her face as he whispered with a slight hint of
hope in his voice, "Hey, Ace." She touched his hand softly
letting him know that she was still awake. He then drew in a
long breath. He had hoped that she wasn't awake. He did not want to
explain things even sooner than he had to explain them. He knew that
if he tried to explain to her why he was late again, that it would
only lead to a fight between them. He desperately wanted to avoid
another fight. She held his hand, thinking of how seducing
his touch was without him even trying to make it be that way. Something was
wrong. He knew it. He could hear it in her voice and in her eyes. She
finally opened her eyes and looked at him. He looked worried. She sat up on the
couch still holding his hand. "Rory?" he asked uncertain of
what was bugging her like this. She looked horribly pained now, as if
she were going to break down and cry. "Rory, what is it?"
he asked now feeling her pain because it hurt him just to see her in
this state. She looked up at him, her eyes about to give way
any second to her tears. "Logan..." she started but
couldn't finish. She couldn't tell him even though she knew she had
to. He moved to the edge of the table to get closer to her...to hold
her...to ease her pain. As he gently put his arms around her waist
and back and pulled her to him, her tears fell like rain in a storm.
He held her tight trying to think of what could be hurting her this
badly. Friends had hurt her before just as family and work had, but
this was different. There was just something different here that he
couldn't quite pinpoint. He thought hard for a moment more. And then
he knew. She was leaving. "Logan...I...I can't do this
anymore." She finally stammered out as she backed out of his
arms looking at the floor, her hands, or even the ceiling as long as
it wasn't his face. "Rory? What..." He tried to ask,
sounding extremely wounded but she interrupted him again. "You're
constantly traveling and you have pictures in the newspaper everyday
with another girl that you claim to have At
this point she stopped thinking of her words as they spilled from her
mouth. All the pain that had been bottled inside her now thrashed out
at him and her voice began to raise taking on anger. "Logan, we
never see each other anymore! When was the last time we talked? I
mean She was still crying but now
she looked up into his eyes. His eyes showed her everything. They
showed her exactly what he felt and what she was feeling too. They
told her of the pain, betrayal, sadness, and most of all they told
her love...for her...that. And of a heart that was being torn in two.
She stared long and hard at his face...his eyes...his love.
