Rory's POV

I couldn't get my thoughts straight, it was all like a bad dream. I always pictured myself, like in those cheesy commercials, sitting on the bathroom floor, with my husband, in our very own first apartment, happy about the fact that in a couple of months we won't get our healthy amount of sleep. I knew life treated me well. I was privileged. Maybe I didn't live off of a trust fund but I never missed out on anything that I ever wanted, which was more than I sometimes deserved. I knew that my mother had her way of getting me on the path that she believed was best for me and I went along with everything, desperately trying to please her most of the time. It was around the time that my doctor called me with the oh so happy news that I realised that the path I was chasing was supposed to be a plan B all along, I never had something steady to guide me, something that was prior to anything else, up until now.

Having a baby was supposed to be steady. A child was supposed to be calming and joyful, instead I've got a headache and 3 stress-zits on top of the morning sickness, as if that didn't make me feel calm and joyful on its own. Mom was awfully calm though, I think it is the thought of a grandchild in her mind that kept her from the fact that I wasn't ready for him or her or it. I wasn't following her footsteps, I knew that and so did she, but that didn't make it any better.

Surprisingly enough my mother wasn't the one who suggested I should tell him right away, Jess did. Right after the wedding I sat with him and told him straight ahead, he seemed shocked. He tried to hide it, tried to comfort me with his calming looks, he knew how I felt about this baby, I didn't even have to tell him, it was very obvious. He tried convincing me that telling Logan would be the right thing to do and that I will regret it if I don't and my baby grows up without a father. He even went as far as reminding me of my own childhood and all of the things that I have missed because my parents were selfish bastards if I may say so myself. Of course, a child cannot be happy if the parent isn't, but they didn't even try, they didn't even consider the possibility of me having both parents actively involved in my life. I'm not mad, I don't blame anyone, but, this is the time in my life that I am questioning every parenting decision I have ever witnessed in order to analyse it and rate in a scale from shitty to amazing.

He wouldn't let it go, Jess was persistent but I was my mothers daughter, I am stubborn to the point where there is no use in trying to get me to pick up that phone. Logan had his life together, he was on a good path. He was on his way to walks in the park, with his wife Odette and two beautiful blonde children, walking a dog he hated and never agreed to but learned to love along the way. How could I ever take that away from him? His picture perfect, tv commercial type of family awaiting for him.

He showed me life. He showed me risk. He showed me that life begins the moment you step out of your comfort zone. He was showing me that I am more than what I though I was, and here I am, proving to myself, that I am less. I knew he was the person that could make this feel better, he was my go-to happiness medicine, yet, the only thing that I loved more than my happiness dosage was him, and I could never cut him away from what he deserved, which was everything he wanted and his family would be happy with. Just imagine the look on Shira's face after all these years of pure despise towards me, telling her I'm carrying the heir of the Huntzberger family.

Jess refused to leave me all by myself, and the next day as well. It became a regular thing for him to at least stop by, get me food, treat me like I have a disease. He was good, deep down, he was always good. Jess was my definition of a good heart, sometimes hidden, sometimes crying for attention, but always good. Jess saw me strong, he made me feel invincible, able to demolish a tank. He made me feel as if this baby was going to be as scary as the dumbo ride in Disneyland. He comforted me, he was there and made sure I knew, every day, that he wasn't leaving, which was as comforting as mac and cheese and a rerun of „Casablanca".

Don't get me wrong, I loved his presence, I knew it was right for support to be around me and for me not to be forced to this alone. It was the night of the "Yale Alumni Annual Dance". It was as silly as it sounds, but grandpa did this with pride, he showed me off, he talked highly of me when I wasn't deserving off that. I owed him, to honour his traditions, even the ones I wasn't very fond of. This was only once a year and sometimes I wish It was more often. It made him feel alive, it made it feel as if he was there, the conversations, the book reviews, the music filling the air. I missed him, he was what I aspired to be, he was strong, he ruled everything he touched, he never needed anything, but grandma. And even though, she demanded to go first, he wouldn't let her, probably because that's the one thing he always secretly knew he wasn't going to be able to deal with.

I wore a black dress to this occasion, it was an elegant, knee-length black dress, I put my hair up and did my make up. I was satisfied and after a long time, I felt good in front of a mirror. The car - ride there was just what I needed, I wasn't driving for quite some time, Jess sort of didn't really allow me to ever have a reason to drive anywhere, and I did love some loud music and street lights passing. As I arrived It looked like a luxury car show, everyone was dressed well, the dresses were shiny, the ties were tight and the martinis were strong. I was instructed to wait by my car when I heard my date almost screaming at the phone.

Paris was arguing about her surrogates not having brown hair as requested by the family, promising a non toxic, super-expensive hair dye. Francie was right, Paris ruled the world, but that wasn't what made her special to me. Paris kept me grounded, and just like every time before, she had my back at these dances. She was way too intelligent to waste time with small talk, so she, like always, wanted a full report on my pregnancy and then together, we walked inside to our seats. The hall was beautifully decorated, flowers everywhere, they've outdone themselves again.

We ate, we danced, we chit-chatted, Paris introduced me to some people, we made fun of everyone that we didn't like.I enjoyed myself, I always did with Paris, she was my person. I saw Marty that evening, his job as a professor at Yale did him well, he looked very pleased to see me. A long time ago we met at a birthday party of a mutual colleague, each of us had a drink too much and ended up talking. We talked about life, how it was treating us and why we stopped treating each other well. He told me he was sorry, the thing with Lucy was childish, he went even as far as telling me he was embarrassed by everything he has done to push me away from him. It was good seeing one more friendly face there. Marty was a friend, he was a good friend.

Paris couldn't stop asking questions about Jess, she didn't understand how we worked. Quite frankly, I wasn't sure myself, he was my own personal support system. I was talking to Paris about how all of this confuses me and makes me feel even more nauseous than I already was, and that is so beside the fact that I was at the time 3 months pregnant.

Two hours have passed, Paris was on the dance floor. She promised me that after one more song she would be back and that we would get another drink together at a bar near by. Everything was going after plan, I saw Paris pointing towards me, probably saying how we should get going. And just as I was reaching out for my purse, a familiar smell made me instantly look up. He stood in front of me with his smile, that smile. I swore I forgot how to breathe for a second. He stepped closer to me, and I moved my chair backwards. He stopped at his track and looked me deadly into the eyes and he only said „Ace." But his tone, the way we both searched for an excuse to escape this room but couldn't find it. Logan was standing so close to me and the only thing I was able to do is run away to Paris, holding my coat and purse, almost pushing a woman out of my way.

Little Rory would be disappointed in me. Little Rory would use that big, fat book from her purse to punch me so hard I would forget where I was and who I have become. She was stronger than me, she was persistent and curious. Curiosity was the one thing from my childhood that I wish I would never lose, and here I was, running away from possibilities. Little Rory would take the little chances that she had and turn everything around, the only thing I have turned around, was my back, my back to him. I wish I was curious enough to wonder what would happen if I let him have a chance of fatherhood.

Logan's POV

I wasn't aware that our last goodbye was indeed my last goodbye with her. People rarely know when their „last" is, otherwise they might act differently. So would I, If I knew Rory was saying goodbye to whatever kind of relationship we have had, I would still be laying in that bed with her, and quite frankly, right now, I currently cannot imagine a better way to spend my time.

I never understood, I did everything. I went to her mother, I rented a beautiful apartment for us, I have done all of my newspaper job research for her and still, she didn't want it. She didn't want me. It took me months, if not years to wrap my head around the fact that the only person I was completely sure of wasn't sure about me. I was thankful for Collin and Finn, they didn't ask many questions and scotch didn't ask any at all. Completely ignoring my heartache, I focused on work. I was always good at what I did, but adding complete dedication to my work, made me remarkably more focused and successful.

Often, I would go out with women my mother would suggest me, sometimes they were decent, even entertaining, like Odette for instance. She was an intelligent and well mannered lady. My family was all up for it, they organised gatherings, dinners, celebrations. They have organised an engagement party without even asking me if I wanted it or not, they pretty much organised everything, and lifeless as I have become, I went along with it. I will always have my work, I will always be able to dig my head into paperwork, spend my nights in front of my laptop and this would work out.

I tried not to think about where she was or how she was doing. Rory was and will always be the most important person in my life even if she wasn't in my life. If I am fully honest, having any kind of relationship with Rory was better than what we had right now. I loved the feeling of her skin under my hand in the morning, I loved the smell of her all around my room, the tickling feeling of her hair against my neck. I wouldn't trade my mornings with her for anything. The moments before she would wake up and start calculating how much time she had left with me were my favourite. When she was peacefully asleep in my bed, when I was looking at her, stroking her hair down, taking in every inch of her perfect body. I wouldn't trade that for anything.

But she didn't want me, she made it clear to me, she never answered my calls after that night in New Hampshire, she pushed me away and it felt familiar. The feeling of betrayal and fear felt the same. Only this time I wasn't allowed to feel sad, I wasn't allowed to tell anyone and let them know how desperately I wanted to speak to her and let her know how unfair this has been. I was engaged to someone else and what we had wasn't exclusive, I wasn't allowed to wish for her openly.

My trip to Hartford was supposed to be very brief, my father wasn't feeling well, so he needed me to take care of some of his work, which I gladly did since I owe everything to him. Mother bothered me with the usual wedding stuff, unimportant colour of the flowers, music… worst of all… guest lists. Of course I wasn't interested in any of that, and what I was mostly not interested in was the „Yale Alumni Annual Dance", but as usual, it was a duty of mine and some strange, stupid part of me hoped I would meet her there. My driver delivered my suit, it was a dark navy slim fit suit, I have showered and shaved, put some perfume on, took my wallet and my phone and was out the door.

Finn and Collin were supposed to meet me there, the plan was to stay for 15 minutes then leave for some drinks. Yale has outdone themselves with the decorations this year, well, with all of the money my Family has given over the years, I wasn't expecting anything less. The guys and me had a drink and on my way out of the door I ran into Marty, he was still looking a bit feminine, not that that's a bad thing, I laughed a little and asked him the boring, lame questions. I must admit, I haven't listened to him that carefully, until I heard her name mentioned. I immediately asked him if Rory was really in there, he was slightly confused, of course he had no clue we kept in touch. I took a look at Finn and he just nodded, he was a good friend, he rarely asked questions but he always knew where I stood, especially where I stood with her.

I turned around to take another good look, trying to spot the only person I wanted to see. And there she was, at a table with people from the Daily News, she looked like she was packing up her things, it was either now or I let her leave on me again. She looked so beautiful, her hair shined and she had a special glow in her face. Gosh, so beautiful, she took my breath away each time. I approached her and when she looked at me with her pair of most breathtaking blue eyes I froze, completely lost for words. I called for her by her nickname and she just looked at me. Started packing up quicker and standing up, running away towards who I supposed was Paris. She looked like someone was chasing her with a knife. It hurt seeing her run away from me like that, we always used to talk about everything, this was heartbreaking to watch.

I watched her grab Paris by her hand and pulling her outside very quickly, I followed them outside. „Rory!" I yelled out on the parking lot, she turned around, still walking towards her car, Paris pulling her behind her in a protective way. „Rory, seriously, let us talk!" I said stopping at my track. „Just let her alone Huntzberger, don't act stupid, she doesn't want to talk to you!" Paris yelled back at me, as if she was Rorys lawyer. „I believe she can speak for herself Paris." I said, of course, that made her step forward, my girl didn't like to be challenged. „I think Paris covered it pretty well." She said turning around. „Ace, please." I pleaded, I swear I only acted this way when it comes to her, I swear. But, she didn't turn back to me, she made her way back into her car with Paris next to her. What did I do? Did she find someone new? Someone who she cared about more than me? Can this be it? The end to ur story?

After watching her drive off, I walked back inside to find Collin and Finn, they waited for me and after seeing my face they knew, one bottle of scotch won't do it for tonight. They stood up and Finn drove us to a bar. I didn't say a word the whole night, I knew I wasn't supposed to be this devastated, I couldn't say or complain about anything, like she said, we were nothing. Except, we were everything. She was everything and I was left with nothing.

It was a cold night, a clear, cold night and I drank a whole bottle of scotch by myself trying to forget her name but the only name I forgot was mine, and drunk or sober, she was the only thing on my mind. I loved her, that was the only thing I was always sure of and I miss her, instead of less, every day more.