I woke up at ten o'clock. I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and looked through the notifications. Just news alerts and celebrity activity. No messages. I scrolled through my Instagram feed and there were no news. Well, no news other than Lane posting cute photos of the twins.

Since I was too tired to go out, I ordered room service. I had had no morning sickness yet and I was so incredibly thankful for that. Then I proceeded to go into writing mode. Writing mode nowadays included drinking several large cups of coffee, staring at a blank page and scroll through my Pinterest feed once every five minutes. Not even my recently added screen saver - a motivational penguin cheering "you can do it, I believe in you" - could cheer me up.

I pondered over the book situation, I wrote a few scenes involving Tristan and Paris, and went blank whenever I got to the Jess scenes. When all the coffee the hotel had provided me with ran out, I knew I had to do something. I found myself going through my call list. When my thumb pressed Jess Mariano I dropped it on the desk in chock.

What was I doing? I couldn't call Jess? But then again, why couldn't I? He was my friend, sort of. This whole book was his idea. If I struggled he should be the first I'd call, right? We had had our differences in the past and he had broken my heart, but that was years ago, why did I keep myself from contacting him?

With new determination, I picked up the phone again and called the number.

"Hey, Rory?" He said as a question, he had been surprised to hear from me.

"Hey, Jess. What's up? Is this a good time?"

"Yeah, I'm not doing much. Just finished my shift."

"Great. Um, how are you?" I had to be civil. It sort of felt like I was using him.

"I'm doing okay. How, um, are you?" Well, he still wasn't very chatty. I guess I just had to get it over with.

"I'm fine. I'm just kind of struggling a bit with the book." I felt my cheeks go pink.

"Ah, the book." I heard him smile. "Have you caught the mysterious fever called Writer's Block?"

"I suppose I have. I've just reached the Chilton part of my life, and I just can't seem to describe it."

"Hm, what about it exactly?"

"It's a character." He laughed.

"It's not me is it?" My cheeks went scarlet. I remained quiet. "It's me?" He laughed again. "Well, Rory, I can understand that it's hard to describe my effortless wit, gorgeous smile and soul-searching eyes."

"To not mention your crippling modesty. But it's not really that… I've been having a hard time describing our relationship, since I don't really know how you felt…"

"But, that's not true, you know how I felt."

"No? You never said anything." This was so awkward but I had to understand.

"I might not have said it, but you knew. You knew I love you."

"But we were never really exclusive. Just for a while and it wasn't very open nor lasting. And then you left, you know." Did he really say love in present tense?

"Yeah, but you knew. So if you want to describe our relationship, just think of the feelings you have for Logan now and describe them." Ouch. How did he even know that?

"I don't have any feelings for Logan. He's engaged."

"Maybe if you stop lying to yourself you'll be able to write again." He was brutally honest. I knew that when I decided to call him, but I thought I could take it. But it hurt. And he was right.

"Well, thank you for the advice. Bye." I ended the phone call. Was he right? I was lying to myself. I did love Logan. But did Jess still have feelings for me? I shut the laptop, my head wasn't blank anymore, but it was filled with the wrong thoughts and ideas.

I lied down on the bed and shut my eyes. Logan hadn't even called yet. He might never. I was trapped in a hotel room, all alone except the presence of all my problems. I contemplated going home, fleeing. But in Stars Hollow was Jess, and he had just become a problem too. I was about to take a long, fulfilling and wasteful nap when my phone rang.