This is the final chapter. Thanks for reading!

My best 'til the next

Coco x

Jess slipped downstairs for a few minutes to get his mind off the girl in his bathroom. When he swung the door to his apartment open, Rory was standing outside his bedroom, pulling her fitted jacket on. Her movement stopped and the apartment was empty again, with Jess and Rory left to stand with only miles of baggage and a sea of unspoken words between them.

"Jess," she began, rushing the single word out of her in one short breath. He cut her off.

"So you're leaving, huh?" She stopped and looked at the floor. It was hardwood, oak maybe. The floor, that is. It was honey gold colored with black ovals running through it like poisoned veins.

She finally managed to force the words from her throat. "I'm so sorry Jess." He started to interrupt her but she rushed on before he could break the momentum she was gaining, the momentum she feared would be lost forever should he speak too soon.

"I know you and me, we weren't always perfect. And I was angry at you for a long time. But you don't deserve any of this. I'm sorry I came here like this, I'm sorry I tried to use you, I'm sorry you felt obligated to take me in last night and I'm sorry I have to be here this morning for you to see again. You should hate me for all of this. For everything I've done to you in the last twenty-four hours. If you do hate me, I completely understand, but I'm not even worth hating anymore. I just wish I could make this up to you,"

"Rory stop," he said quietly, but sharply enough that she paused. He was looking at her, his coffee eyes struggling to push the sadness out and replace it with…anything, really.

"Please," he paused, fighting himself. "Please, don't say you're sorry. If you really want to do something for me, to make this up to me, don't say you're sorry." She shifted in her ballet flats and placed her hand on the back of the couch. "You're right; we weren't perfect. I wasn't perfect. But the past is in the past. What matters is the here and now.

"I don't regret a moment that I've spent with you. I don't regret telling you….telling you I love you, and I don't regret your being here right now. When you tell me how sorry you are, I feel like you regret me. Please don't do that to me. I don't ever want you to regret me or us. So please, just don't say you're sorry." Silence crept through the cracks in the windows and doors, through the walls and floorboards and filled every empty mole of space in the room. After a long moment, Rory could finally feel her heart beating again, hear Jess breathing rhythmically, and hear the wall clock ticking monotonously. They looked at each other, reading every subtle thought on the other's face. Behind his hard exterior, Rory saw what Jess kept hidden behind his analytical assessments of Jane Austin and the memorized passages of Franz Kafka. She nodded at him, unconsciously biting her lip.

"Okay," she said, stopping herself from adding the habitual 'I'm sorry' to the end of the concise statement. "I guess I'll go." She bent over to pick her purse off the floor.

"Yeah, right," he said distantly. She walked toward him and paused a few feet in front of him.

"Thank you," she said, feeling completely idiotic. "For everything," she added sincerely. He looked off at something intangible and gave a few brusque nods, pursing his lips. Rory hesitated for a moment, studying his profile.

Looking down at the floor he added, "If you ever need anything, you know where to find me." He met her eyes and she smiled sadly at him. She knew he wouldn't have said that if he didn't really mean it. She found herself thinking about the floorboards again and how they were a lot like her and Jess's relationship. They glowed; they fit together despite any warps or roughness. In spite of this, there would always be the darkness of the past running through them. But in a way, their story was tragically beautiful.

"Bye, Jess," she whispered. She tore her feet away from the floor and Jess could almost hear the abrasive tone of Velcro separating. He watched her back as she opened the door, stepped into the shadows of the hallway and disappeared.

Jess closed his eyes and exhaled. There was a knot in his stomach. He walked toward the couch and sat down. On the table before him sat warm coffee in a cold blue mug. He stared at it for a long time, thinking about nothing. He ran a hand through his hair and looked toward his room, where the door stood open. Rory's ghost stood in the doorway, laid in his bed, touched the books on the shelves.

His mind traced every time he had hurt her.

All the times he hadn't been there for her, all the times he had let her down. The way her voice sounded over the phone when she was trying not to cry. The way she looked at him like it would be the last time.

I don't want to hear you say you're sorry, he thought, because I'm the one who should apologize.

I should try, but I just can't say I'm sorry.

The

End…