Rory's crazy schedule became a blessing in disguise. The less time she spent around Logan, the happier she was. When she and Logan managed to cross paths, the stayed on opposite sides of the apartment, refusing to speak. Logan spent his time at home drinking angrily in front of the TV, if he chose to come home at all. The distance and coldness hurt and her mother doing the same didn't help.

Rory still didn't understand why the fight happened in the first place. No amount of texting would get her mom to pick up the phone and Rory didn't feel right bringing Luke or James into their crap. Work gave her a reprieve from Logan related nonsense and talking to Deva kept her in moderate spirits. Somehow, the least stressful part of her life was the job that sometimes kept her awake for two days straight. Funny how things work out.

Four days after her and Logan's argument, Rory was at her desk, toiling away when a coworker stopped by. "Looks like we're going to be slow for an hour or two so you can go out and grab dinner. And don't tell me those three twinkies you had count as dinner."

Rory smiled, "Fine, I'll get real food. Text me if anything urgent happens, okay?"

She grabbed her things and walked to the elevator. She wondered if the Indian buffet nearby had anything good at 10 at night. She was half a block away from her job when she heard someone calling her name. Rory turned around to see Mitchum Huntzberger strutting towards her. He clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"Rory Gilmore. How the hell are ya?"

"Mr. Huntzberger, hi. I'm great. I didn't know you worked in New York."

After all these years, Mitchum Huntzberger still made her nervous.

"I don't. I'm here on business. What brings you to Fashion Avenue?" he asked.

"Lunch break. Well, I guess it's more of a dinner break. I work at BCB Health now." Rory replied with a shrug.

"BCB? You're a copywriter now?"

"Editor."

"Huh. How'd you manage that?"

"Right place, right time," Rory replied with a shrug, "It was nice seeing you Mr. Huntzberger, I have to grab dinner before The Curry Hut closes for the night."

"Hold on a minute. Let me buy you dinner."

Rory shook her head, "That's okay, I'm fine with my food coming from a place with sneezeguards."

"C'mon, what's one dinner between old friends?"

Rory couldn't describe her relationship with Mitchum but "old friends" didn't come to mind. Still, Rory ended up at a 24/7 Greek diner a few blocks away, a club sandwich on her plate and her sorta ex-boyfriend's father sitting across from her. Mitchum was digging into his steak with gusto in between keeping her updated on the ever-expanding Huntzberger dynasty.

"Number four on the way. If I didn't know better I'd say that Honor is trying to repopulate the Earth."

"Wow, congrats."

"I didn't do a damn thing but pay for the wedding. Enough about me. You were crazy about writing in college. What made you go to the dark side?" he asked with a grin.

She shrugged, "I realized you were right."

Mitchum looked up from his steak. "About what?"

"I don't have what it takes to be a journalist. Never did I guess."

"Rory–"

"Nope, you were so right. It took me 10 years to figure it out but it wasn't where I belonged."

Mitchum set down his knife and fork, "And how'd you figure that out?"

"The old fashioned way. Therapy."

"No shame in that. I know a few people who could use a little one on one time with a professional. It's smart to realize you're out of your element and change it. Plus you landed on your feet better than guys who wanted to be in advertising right out of the gate."

"Thanks. That means a lot coming from you." Rory's phone buzzed and text from her coworker popped up on the screen. "Crap, I have to go back to work." She flagged down a waiter and asked for her food to be boxed up.

Mitchum wiped his mouth with a napkin, "Before you go, I wanted to give you this. I tried finding your address and Honor didn't have you on Facebook or whatever the hell you kids are on these days, but here." he said holding out a postcard.

"What is it?"

"An invitation to Logan and Odette's anniversary party. Three years, can you believe it? They're announcing the baby."

Rory swallowed. "Baby?"

"Crazy, right?" Mitchum said with a smile, "Never thought those two would get down to it."

It was like a field of cotton had sprouted in Rory's head. She spent most of her time back at the office, staring down at the invitation.

'Where are you Logan, and Odette going Rory?'

Pregnant. Up the duff. Knocked up. Expecting.

Her married boyfriend had gotten his wife of three years pregnant. Rory came home to her dark apartment. She kicked off her shoes and pulled out her phone.

"Hey Doyle," she said when he picked up, "I know its late, but I'm looking for a new place in Queens. Got anything?"

–––––––––––––

Rory sat in Deva's waiting room and played on her phone. The news of Logan's impending fatherhood had turned a switch in her. From the restart of her and Logan's relationship, Rory had been waiting for the day she and Logan could really be together. She kept thinking about the different ways that it could happen. Maybe it would take a few years. Maybe Odette would leave Logan. Maybe Mitchum and Odette's dad would have a falling out. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But there were no more maybes. Logan was having a child with a woman who wasn't her. Logan had a wife who wasn't her. Logan and Odette weren't going to get a divorce. They weren't going to drift apart. They were going to have a child together and Rory was either going to watch Logan start a family with someone who wasn't her or make a change.

The worry and anxiety of her and Logan had come to an end. Rory accepted the reality with more calm then she assumed she would. A sulky teenager trudged out of the hallway and passed Rory.

"You can go in now," the receptionist said.

Rory walked into Deva's office and closed the door behind her. "Good afternoon, Rory," Deva greeted.

"It's an afternoon," Rory replied, "Calling it good might be a stretch." she sat down across from Deva.

"Why do you say that?"

Instead of responding, Rory handed Deva the invitation that Mitchum had given her. "An invitation," Deva read aloud, "To celebrate Logan and Odette's third anniversary. I can see how your boyfriend's wedding anniversary can put a damper on an afternoon."

"That's not it. Odette's pregnant. She and Logan are going to announce it as this big shindig."

"Logan invited you to this? That's an...incredibly cruel thing for someone to do."

"Oh, he didn't invite me, his father Mitchum did. He found me going to lunch outside my job, bought me dinner and then threw this at me."

"Does he know? About you and Logan?"

"Does it matter?" Rory said with a shrug, "There is no me and Logan anymore."

"You already broke up with him?" Deva asked, crossing her legs.

"No, but I'm going to."

"Are you sure?"

"There's no other option, I mean, he's going to be somebody's father and I'm going to be the skank he runs too when real life gets too hard. I can't be that skank."

"No offense, you were perfectly happy to be Logan's 'skank', for the last few months" Deva replied, putting air quotes around the word 'skank', "What's changed?"

"Everything's changed. A baby changes everything. You don't grow up okay when your father pops in and out of your life like a jack in the box on steroids. You don't grow up to be a well-adjusted individual who eats their vegetables when your father cares more about his mistress or his job than he does you. You grow up to be a Rory Gilmore or Logan Huntzberger." Rory sighed, "Those aren't great options."

"You wouldn't want a child to grow up like you?"

"Of course not, look at me."

" I see a young woman who made a few mistakes and is beating herself up about them. She has a job she likes and is working towards her future. That's not a mess."

"There should be no work left! I should have figured myself out in college, got a job that didn't make me want to chew my own arm off, and already have a long term significant other after having a series of meaningless one night stands in my early twenties."

"You haven't even hit 35! You have your entire life to become that person. You know, if you think about it, not having yourself figured out is great. You get to keep discovering new things about yourself, it's exciting."

"I didn't want to be discovering myself for the rest of my life. I want to be figured out like everyone else."

"I'm going to tell you this. If anyone your age says that they're got it figured out, they're liars."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Yeah?" Deva replied before shrugging, "Cut me some slack, not everything I say is going to blow your mind." She sighed. "When do you plan on breaking up with Logan?"

"As soon as possible."


Powerful as that statement was, Rory didn't really start prying herself apart from Logan until Doyle and Paris had come over to take a look at her new apartment, tucked into a bustling Queens neighborhood. It didn't have the writing room that she always pictured for herself, but it would do. With her trust fund money Rory was able to pay first and last month's rent, the broker's fee and furnish the place at her whim. However, seeing $17k slip out of her bank account so quickly terrified her. She didn't want to end up right back where she started.

Cassandra and Dexter spent their visit putting their sticky little hands into every crevice of her new place, while Paris stalked around, opening cupboards and kicking couch legs.

"This place is an art deco craphole crawling in asbestos." Paris said, her heels clicking about, "What the hell is up with that elevator? And there's no doorman. Rory you're going to die here. It's half a step up from our place when we were back at Yale. I'll have to go to Barney's and get a nice dress for your funeral."

Doyle rolled his eyes, "What she means is that your place is great and you can have packages delivered to our place anytime you want."

Paris rolled her eyes in return and went to gather up her spawn.

"Do you need help getting your stuff out of the penthouse? I've got pretty good connections with a couple of moving companies."

"No," Rory said with a deep breath, "I'll think I should do that myself."