FOUR

Why hadn't he been able to say anything? She'd been right there. In fact, they'd sat next to each other for hours after coming back from the lake, eating, talking, Rory complaining about Almost Famous—the movie Jess had insisted on watching—but watching it anyway. He could feel it in his chest, his heart beating out the words to his brain tell her, dammit, by god, just ask her. But he couldn't because the last time he'd asked her to come to New York with him, she'd shot him down.

Instead, when conversation died down, and they'd cleaned up, putting the extra food in the fridge, Jess told Rory that he was headed to bed. He changed, he sat on the bed, he tried to read, he couldn't focus, he walked to the door, he stopped. He turned around. He did it all over again. For nearly six hours. He turned off the alarm on his phone. He changed again. He finally opened the door.

Why couldn't she do it? Taylor was right there. In fact, she'd had about twenty minutes to interrupt him or wait for a breath and ask him, but every time that she was about to do it, there was a twist in her gut. Something telling her no, not now, not today.

Instead, she'd halfway listened to him complain about something or other that he would probably discuss tomorrow at the town meeting. She bid Taylor goodbye, she started to walk home. Home. The place she was raised. The place she left and then came back to time and time again. Middle of nowhere, go-nowhere Stars Hollow. The town where there's nothing to do, nowhere to go, and the 24-hour mini-mart closes at 7:00.

Her hand hovered above the front door handle, but she couldn't. Couldn't go in, couldn't force herself to go back to the comfortable life she'd always known.

Couldn't force a child to be subject to constant judgment and stares. Just like her mother, they'd say. It's a shame. She was really going places, that one. You know she went to Yale?

She turned and sunk onto the front steps as the words plunged deeper into her chest.

If anyone would be the one to leave this town, I'd 've said her. But she came back, started working at the Gazette. Saved our little paper, that one.

If she left, the Gazette would go with her. No one would pick it up after her because no one else would know how to run a paper. She stood. She turned. She opened the door.

She grabbed a sheet of paper, a pen, and a book and took them back to the front steps. All of the big decisions in her life had been made with a pro and con list. Why should leaving Stars Hollow be any different? So that's what she wrote at the top of the paper, Leaving Stars Hollow, and she drew a line straight down the middle. Pro on the left. Con on the right.

She sat on the steps until she had exhausted every possible option, every possible response to this thought of leaving her home. And, in the end, the pros outweighed the cons. She may not have a place to live, but who cares? She could figure it out.

"I wasn't planning on calling you again, really."

"But you still did, Ace, what is it?"

"You're happy with Odette, right?" She heard him sigh on the other end of the phone, and she knew what was coming next—a We've talked about this, Ace—so she kept talking before he could respond. "Logan, I know we've had this discussion, we've had our parting note, but I need to hear you say it."

"Yes, I'm happy with Odette," Rory had been pacing, but she stopped when she heard him say this; she braced herself on the railing.

She had to do this. Finish it. Cut off all the loose ends. A do-over is only a do-over if the ends are tied up.

"I need to you remember that when I tell you this, okay?"

"Ace-" he sounded worried. Probably not a bad idea.

"Now, you also need to remember everything else I said to you. That I hope you and Odette are happy together, that you stay happy, have kids, get married, build a life."

"Rory."

"I'm pregnant, but I don't want your money or your marriage to break because of this." Silence fell between the two for a minute as Rory found the words to say next, or rather, found the strength to say the words, "I want to raise it alone. You can have phone calls and visits if you want, but I don't want it to have the same fate, same constraints that you did. The idea of being the Huntzberger heir before it's even born is too much for anyone."

"It was too much for me, it is too much for me," Logan rolled the idea over and over in his head. A baby. "You know that better than anyone."

Rory smiled a little. He wasn't fighting her on it, she could hear it in his voice. "That's why I want to raise it by myself."

There was a deep breath on the other end of the phone. "You'll keep me updated, right?"

"Of course, I could call you every week if that's what you wanted."

"Sounds like a good exchange to me, Ace."

"Goodbye, Logan."

He had to remind himself who he was around Rory. Constantly he heard Hemingway in his ear, telling him not to throw too much of himself into her. He'd never forgotten about her—that was impossible—but she'd been in a designated box for about four years since he'd seen her last. It was the Rory-shaped box at the back of his mind, and when he was away from her for so long, it was easy to keep her there.

To say he hadn't moved on could be disputed, but to say he hadn't tried would be false through and through. He'd had his fair share of one-night stands and week or month-long flings, and there had even been a few serious relationships hidden in there. Two had cheated on him and ended up leaving him for the other person, and the third . . . the third was the one he had ended. It had gone on so long, and he couldn't see a future for them when she could. She saw picket fences and upstate New York. He hadn't seen anything. Maybe he hadn't wanted to or hadn't tried hard enough but indifference wasn't a sure sign of the future, so he left.

"What am I doing?"

I'm not playing golden retriever hoping someday, she'll turn around and fall in my arms.

His own words came crashing back over him.

"Hey Caesar, I'll be back," Jess started walking towards the door, clapping his hand on the elder man's shoulder for a moment, "don't burn down the diner while I'm gone."

It was as if he was on auto-pilot as if all he had done was blinked and he was in front of Rory, in front of the Gilmore house. For a few seconds, he stood at the mailbox, far enough to turn and leave and she would be none the wiser.

"Jess."

"Rory."

He started walking towards her, one hand in his jacket pocket, the other tucking hair behind his ear.

"What are you-" she stood up to greet him. He kissed her. One hand on her jawline, the other running down her arm to her hand. Her other hand grabbed his arm and pulled him tighter.

To say he hadn't moved on, in actuality, probably couldn't be disputed. Because he had moved on, but Rory was like an eternal flame that he would keep coming back to as long as he could.

Come to New York with me. Go back with me. Be with me.

"Can I go to New York with you?"

A/N: (I'm super tired, so this is not going to be a very chatty note.) Wow. So a lot just happened. I wasn't planning on putting it all in one chapter initially, but then it just kind of happened. I spent a good day not writing but just figuring out what I wanted to happen, and I had a rough idea. When I started writing, it all just kind of came out. So, if it feels rushed, that's why. Anyway, I hope y'all liked this chapter. If you liked it, tell me why! If you didn't tell me that too!

Review, favorite, and follow if you want to follow this story and see what happens next.

Talk to you soon!

x Star