"Oh crap." I slept in, again. Paris, she did this, I'll kill her.
Yesterday was the day from hell, Honor's wedding turned into a complete fiasco. Rory ended up getting plastered by herself, and ran into Doyle who only made the night better. Desperate she turned to her only friend at Yale, Paris. Once again she found herself depressed with Paris grumbling about men, too. Men sucked, Logan sucked.
"PARIS!" Rory yelled. "I'm borrowing clothes!" She had almost tripped on her sage dress that spanned Paris's bedroom. Looking slightly disheveled with no time to shower Rory applied some quick makeup and put some gel in her hair. Dumping out the contents of her purse Rory pulled out her keys and her cell phone.
Pulling her keys out of her hoodie pocket, she unlocked the door. Please let him not be here. She quietly opened the door, peeking around the door there was no sight of Logan. The living room was just like they left it the night before except for a stack of cardboard boxes on the pool table. Grabbing the lot of them, she went to the bedroom. Finding a cd, she popped the tunes into the player. With a full blast of music she started with her clothes. The mind numbing reality of the Logan's Thanksgiving got to her as soon as she opened her first drawer. Memories were being thrown at her with rapid fire this apartment was swarming with Logan. She couldn't believe it. She, Rory Gilmore, loved him. She remembered when she said those magical words. It had slipped out, it felt right, and she knew it was true. Her heart was starting to melt, Rory found her self on the mahogany floors her tears making it hard for her to breathe. She looked around, this is what this feels like being cheated on. She now fully understood what Lindsay felt, maybe not completely. Dean and Lindsay were married, her and Logan were not. But it still hit too close to home. Was this Karma? She stood up slowly wiping her tears with sleeves.
She walked over to the bathroom, pulling off her tennis shoes followed by the rest of her clothes. Starring at her self in the mirror she felt dirty, everything had pilled on her. Maybe I did bring this on myself she thought. The water was turned on full blast, the pour of hot water emitting from the spout, she scrubbed her self raw with the loofa.
Pulling on her own clothes, she heard the front door slam. Rory's eyes immediately closed. She knew it was him.
"Rory!" yep that was definitely Logan. He had finally made his way to the bedroom "Rory…"
"Logan..." Rory whispered her voice trailing as she said his name. She had just gotten out of the shower. Her eyes were bloodshot from her tears and her skin irritated.
"Rory," he whispered as he stood in front of her," I'm sorry. Ace, I love you more than any thing else in this world. I fucked up, I'm sorry. Please believe me Rory. I thought we were broken up, and you know that I don't completely know all the rules regarding these things, but I would never, ever, do anything to intentionally hurt you." He looked on at her expectantly; her blue eyes were swollen with grief.
Rory wiped away the stream of fresh tears with her sleeve, "I did this Logan, and this is my fault."
"What?" Logan breathed.
There was a long pause, her emotions were getting the best of her - she was struggling not to be hysterical. As she spoke she found herself leaning against the bedroom wall for support, by the end of her speech Rory was back on the ground. "I did this Logan. I'm a horrible person. I... I... I never told you this. I slept with my ex-boyfriend, Dean, and he was married." She was starring off into space her eyes, glassy with new tears, this wasn't the heart breaking balling of an hour ago, but a silent more desperate cry. "I did this to us Logan, Dean cheated on his WIFE with me. I was the other woman, I ruined their marriage. Their marriage."
Logan's eyes were wide. This is defiantly not what I expected. "Rory its okay." Logan knelt down to her, his hands holding her. He paused; this is defiantly not what I expected, ever. "Rory, honey, Look at me."
She timidly raised her eyes, his hands comfortably touching her face.
"This is not your fault. You made a mistake, and so did I. I thought we weren't together anymore after the fight, you never called me. You and Dean have nothing to do with us. I'm sorry Rory, please don't move out, be with me. I need you." What was this, Logan Huntzberger the great playboy admitting out loud that he needed someone? He didn't need anyone, and certainly not a girl. Given the circumstances he would have laughed his ass off if someone in recent months would have told him that he would tell a crying girl he needed them. Oh, how things change when your heart is involved.
Suddenly she realized why she was here her eyes madly darting side to side she started to get angry. The thought of her with her jaw open in the room the night before, she felt stupid. Rory stood up, preparing for the assault. Words came to her spewing out, half from disgust in herself the other at Logan. "Logan, I can't do this anymore. I'm so messed up right now, we are messed up right now. I just can't live here. I need to deal with me and my feelings about you." She went from sobbing to rage in 3 seconds flat, those women and their hormones.
"Rory…" Logan was half shocked in this change of pace, he stood up and attempted to touch her before she cut him off.
"You can not honestly expect me to just roll over like that Logan, to break up with someone you have to tell the other person. Mr. Life and Death Brigade can't even break up with his girlfriend."
"Hey, Rory, lets talk about communication. Remember how you told me you weren't going to Yale anymore, or the fact that your grandmother told me it was your birthday."
Rory stared at him livid. "You know what, I don't need this, and I defiantly don't need you." She moved past him, and turning at the door, she said, "Good bye Logan."
Logan looked around, bewildered. What the hell just happened? She just broke up with me that's what happened. He heard the slam of the front door. With this sound he punched the wall; his hand collided with the sheet rock, making a sizeable fist hole.