The door hung open and she still stood with the letter. My breathing was heavier and slower…I watched her standing there, getting ready to let me have it.

"How dare you!" She started out. "How dare you blame all your problems on me!"

She pushed past me, and walked straight into my foyer. That seemed odd to me, at one time I would never have imagined her to do that…or yell like that.

"Come in…" I mumbled closing the front door and turning to face her.

"You know the funniest part of this was when you said, and I quote, "I hate you for that. I hate you for turning me into somebody who can't do anything without being reminded of you…or can't lead a normal life because everything is miserable for me. And you did that, solely you." She let her hand fall to her side, and looked at me furious. "How dare you!"

"Oh, you certainly haven't said that enough…" I felt embarrassed that she had read the letter, I felt embarrassed that she was standing before me holding it, calling me out on it.

She glared at me.

"I'm sorry, continue your yelling."

She looked back at the letter.

"I just meant that it's unfair for you to blame all of this on me."

I shook my head at her. I guess she didn't get that she had really hurt me.

"Logan, I am not your father! I'm not the reason you're like this," she defended.

I was taken aback by her words…I guess my face had showed it, because she quickly backtracked before I could suggest she enlighten me as to why I was "like this".

"I didn't mean that…well, I did…I just…didn't mean for it to come out that way," she finished.

There was an awkward pause.

"Then who is, Rory?" I asked, looking straight at her. The blood was rising in me, and I was getting angry. I hated the fact that she thought I was some sick little messed up boy she was trying to help. "You seem to have all the answers, so why don't you fill me in?"

"Logan…" She began, but it was me who cut her off this time.

"No." I said more violently than I intended, "It is never anyone else's fault! I'm always the screw-up…I'm always to blame. Can't you accept the fact, Rory, that maybe for once something could be blamed on you?"

She started to interject, but I cut her off again.

"I mean you haven't forgotten what you did to me, have you? You don't think that has anything to do with this?"

She stared at the paper while I yelled at her. I could see her tying to keep her welling eyes from overflowing, as she just continued to stare at the letter.

"I didn't mean to…"

"But you did, Rory." I said harshly. "You can't change that."

She was biting her lip as if to keep from sobbing, and she kept staring at the paper.

"I want to…I really do…Logan…I wish you'd believe me…"

I could tell she meant it. I didn't know what to say or do next. Part of me wanted her to leave, and part of me really just wanted to comfort her; to tell her everything was forgiven, and to hug her and tell her everything was okay.

She just looked up at me with watery eyes, still holding the letter. And I wanted to make her understand how I felt; I wanted her to know that I still resented her…but I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to go to her and just wrap my arms around her…just to let her know that I was there, that I still cared for her.

And that's just what I did; all heart racing, hand trembling, breath shortening, and dizziness aside. I hugged her.

I had broken barriers I set in my mind, and next I kissed her. I was still trembling, and I just wanted to forget everything. I didn't want to hate anymore, I didn't want to loathe, or resent her anymore…until she broke away.

"I can't do this Logan…this isn't why I came…" She avoided looking at me."That's not what it seems like."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you just gave me that Rory look…"

"What Rory look?"

"Its…I don't know…I can't really define it…its just a look…"

"I'm sorry…" she shrugged.

"Yeah, you seem to be saying a lot of that."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just that every time I've talked to you you've apologized for something."

"Okay…"

"Well, just you keep saying sorry for things…but why do you keep doing them if you're sorry…?"

"I didn't try to do anything. I didn't mean for things to keep happening, I'm sorry…what happened was a mistake…I shouldn't have-"

"Oh, I don't believe that. You're not an idiot, Rory. You're probably the smartest person I know, and when you do something you think it through and you make a decision! You don't just do things without trying, that's not you."

"I don't know, Logan…things were hectic…I was confused about things…I had definitely taken a page out of Dorothy Parker's book…and it was…just a mistake."

"Mistakes are a part of being human. Appreciate your mistakes for what they are: precious life lessons."

"Logan, I'm not playing the quote game with you…I don't even know why I'm still here."

"You weren't done making me miserable yet?"

"Oh yes, that's exactly why I came, Logan, in hopes that I could crush your soul!"

"Well I think you conquered that objective before today." She glared at me again, but I couldn't feel badly about it. Everything I had said was true, she'd hurt me and denied meaning to do it.

"Well, I think you made it pretty clear you wanted to leave…" I hinted as to why she was still here.

"You're blocking the door."

"Oh," I moved aside and held it open for her, "drive safe."

She looked at me with an expression that told me she was sorry, but she hated me all the same. And I slammed the door after she stepped out of its frame.

"So that was quite an encounter." Dr. Reed remarked as I finished my story.

"It always is when it comes to Rory Gilmore." I said solemnly leaning back in my seat.

"So, I understand this incident made you angry?"

"Yes."

"Angry enough to hit things?"

"I- how?"

"You have four bruised knuckles…somehow I put two-and-two together."

"Yeah, well I'm pretty sure my mother will as well when she notices the hole in the wall, behind her out of place Waratah Flambé."

"So she doesn't know Ms. Gilmore stopped by?"

"No…and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Why's that?"

"I don't want…things like this need to be kept from my parents, more importantly, my mother. I don't want her to have more on her plate than she already does…she's convinced I'm insane and I don't want her to blame anyone else."

"More importantly, you don't want her to blame Rory?"

"Well…yes," I said uncomfortably. He made a note on his paper and went back to taking advantage of the fact that I wasn't quoting Hemingway or Bukowski.

"So…why don't we talk about the mistake you two mentioned?"

"What's to talk about?" I didn't want to even touch this subject…I could feel quotes coming the harder he pushed the issue.

"Well, what happened, for instance. Or why she feels it was a mistake and you don't? Something like that…" I could tell he thought if he could get me to answer one question things would start flowing out.

"Scotch, please." I sighed, leaving the man a five and taking my drink.

"Oh, Emily…so good of you to come."

"Well, I was invited…plus, this is an occasion to celebrate!"

"Oh, that it is…Mitchum's so excited…he really thinks this paper will be a winner."

"I'm sure it will, Shira, anything Mitchum works at turns to gold."

Except for me.

I walked forward, extending my hand. "Hello, Emily."

"Oh, Logan…nice to see you…Rory's around here somewhere…"

My heart leapt. "Rory?"

"Yes…her mother had something at work she couldn't get out of, and it was just Rory and I for dinner, and I had Shira's invitation, so I thought it'd be nice to come."

"Yeah…" I scanned the room…and couldn't see her.

"Well, I supposed I should make the rounds, Emily. We'll catch up later?"

"Oh, of course. Would you excuse me, Logan? I see a couple ladies from the DAR I need to have a word with…"

"Sure, Emily…" I was again scanning the room, a refill.

"Scotch, please." I requested for the second time.

"Gin martini." I turned and noticed her, for the first time of the night. I quickly turned away as she had turned to look at me. We both stood awkwardly, waiting for our drinks that seemed as though they'd never come.


"So…how are you?" She finally asked.

"I've been better…you?"

"I've been better as well…"

"Really?"

"That's what I said…"

"I mean…you aren't out there seizing the world…reporting on things…taking the journalism world by storm?"

"Not really…I've been covering Obama's campaign trail…that's coming to an end…been applying to newspapers…but so far no word…"

"You'll get a job."

"Thanks…that's nice."

"No, I mean it…you'll get a job, you're a great writer, Ace."

She gave me a feeble smile, took her martini, and joined her grandmother.

"Logan?"

"No…I don't want to talk about it." He sighed, adjusting in his seat.

"Well…we did make progress this time…I'll see you Wednesday, Mr. Huntzberger."

AN: Okay...there was a very peculiar thing going on with the formatting at the end of this chapter...I went into edit and hopefully fixed it. It should be easier to read now, so that means you'll be able to submit a review! Okay...I put the flashback in italiacs...and someone complained about dragging out the "incident"...haha have to keep you interested:)