Rory and Logan passed like ships in the wind at the penthouse. She still slept in their too-big bed but slowly spirited away a few things to her new place. She didn't know where Logan slept and did her best not to think about it. Several times a day, Rory opened her phone, typed out a goodbye before erasing it all. She stared at the call button next to his name and practiced an 'it's over' monologue before chickening out. A break-up email crossed her mind but that was too 2003 for Rory. Despite everything, Logan deserved a face to face even if it was the hardest thing to do.
She walked into the apartment and found Logan sitting in front of the TV. The light of TV flickered across his face, highlighting the bags under his eyes. His face looked worn and sallow. Rory stopped herself from going over and curling up with him.
"Hey," he said, without taking his eyes off the TV.
"Hey," she replied.
Rory sighed and looked at the keys she held in her hand. This was her chance. She pulled off the keys to their –his– apartment before putting them on the vacant couch cushion next to Logan. She walked into the bedroom and pulled out her suitcases. Rory was halfway through her side of the closet when Logan walked into the bedroom and tossed the keys on the bed.
"Packing your bags and giving back the keys? I'm loving the drama."
Ignoring him, Rory continued packing her bags. She heard Logan sigh.
"Are you seriously doing this over a little argument?" he asked.
"That's wasn't a little argument." she replied, stuffing a shirt in her suitcase, "That was you treating me like an idiot and trying to run my life."
"Okay, I get it, it was a dumb thing to say. I'm sorry. You don't have to do this because of a stupid fight."
"It's not just the fight. We don't talk anymore, we don't go out anymore, we don't even want to be in the same room most of the time. Why would I stay?"
"We weren't going to do that forever. All we had to do was talk about it like adults. Not give back keys and pack bags and move back with their mom."
"I'm not going to my mom's. I'm going to my apartment." Rory zipped her suitcase shut.
"You have an apartment? Since when?"
"Three weeks."
"Three weeks? So what? If I hadn't been home you were gonna pack your shit and just go?"
"I'm not doing this to hurt you, Logan."
"Then why are you doing this?" Logan asked.
Rory stood up and grabbed the invitation that she'd stuffed into the bedside table. Logan deflated at the sight of it. Rory held the invitation out to him until he took it from her.
"Where did you get this?" he asked.
"Does it matter? Logan, you're married."
"That's not brand new information. I told you that it doesn't matter, it's just for show. Don't do this all over a party. I drink some wine, take some pictures and come home to you. You're the one I want, Rory." he said, reaching out to her.
Rory stepped back. "Did Odette tell you that she's pregnant?"
Logan's face froze. Rory guessed he already knew. It shouldn't have surprised her, it was his wife. "Mitchum told me that you and Odette are going to announce the newest Huntzberger at your party."
"My dad gave this to you?" he asked, holding up the invitation. "He's trying to start shit, don't fall for this."
"There's no shit to start! Your wife is pregnant. We can't keep doing this."
"Rory, c'mon don't be like this."
"Like what?" Rory crossed her arms, "We can't keep playing pretend. We have to be realistic."
"We can still be realistic. We can figure this out," Logan pleaded, his eyes beginning to shine with tears.
Rory started at the suitcase on the ground between them, "You're going to be a father, Logan. We have to do this."
Logan scrubbed a hand under his nose and sat down on the bed. "This is happening, huh?"
She swallowed, "Yeah."
"You think my father would have his second heart attack if I named the baby after you?"
"Stop it."
"It was just a joke! Laugh or cry status over here."
Rory crossed her arms tighter and looked at Logan. "I mean it. I can't only have half of you. I'm too greedy. We'll end up back at here."
"We can do the friend thing, I can do the friend thing." Logan said, grabbing her hand as the tears began to roll down his cheeks, "I can't lose you again when I just found you again."
Shaking her head, Rory pulled her hand away.
Logan licked his lips. "Does it have to be all or nothing?" he asked.
"Yeah, it does."
"Why can't we try?"
Rory let her own tears drip down her face. "What's the point?"
He nodded and stood up. Logan held Rory's in his hands and pressed a damp kiss to her forehead. He smiled down at her. "See you later."
He left her there in the bedroom, clothes half packed and heart empty.
"Doyle and I have a home interview next week," Paris announced during their lunch.
Winter had lost its grip on the city as March came to an end. Though there was a bit of a nip to the air, many New Yorkers, Paris and Rory included decided to eat at their chosen restaurant's sidewalk tables.
"You guys aren't planning to foster first?" Rory asked, "I hear it's easier to get approved for adoption that way."
"Whoever your source is, they should donate their body to a clown college." Paris replied with a roll of her eyes, "When we crush this home inspection Doyle and I are going to raise the crap out that kid."
"Raising kids isn't a competition."
Taking a sip of her wine, Paris said, "That sounds like something a child raised by a loser would say. No offense."
"You're very energetic today. Did you get some very nice sperms in?"
"Ugh, don't make me talk about work. Three near sterile women came in last week again after I told them that another round of IVF might put them in the hospital. Three! Two of them told me some garbage about God and love and I had to kick them out. The only thing keeping me from burning my building to the ground is the thought of showing up at Alumni day at Chilton and rubbing my success in The Puff's puffy little faces."
"Puffy?"
"Oh-ho-ho, very puffy. I've seen Francine's picture in the society pages when I go home and remind my mother why she doesn't deserve to live. That woman could be the face of the Michelin Tire Company. You heading back to the old country for Alumni day?"
Rory shrugged, "Probably not, Headmaster Charles asked me to talk to a group of freshmen about my career trajectory and I have nothing to say."
Not to them and not to her mom. Her mother had been ignoring her for the last few weeks. She had talked to Luke, James, and her grandmother and not one of them mentioned the fight that she and her mom were having. If she went back home and didn't stay at the house, Luke would know something was up. If she stayed under the same roof as her mother, Rory knew they wouldn't be able to get out in one piece. She was mad as hell at her mom. When she needed her the most, Rory couldn't pick up the phone and call her and hear her voice and know she did the right thing by leaving Logan. Instead, Rory had to pick herself up alone while her mom pouted about whatever they were fighting about.
"Rory, kids today need to know that going to college for a degree in the arts is one way trip to poverty. You're a great example of how creative careers aren't forever and you will have to eventually abandon everything that put you thousands of dollars in debt and start over."
"Ouch."
"Twist it into some inspirational woo-woo nonsense about how you can still be successful even when your dreams are a failure if that makes you feel better. My therapist told me that people like to hear about," Paris snapped her fingers as she tried to remember. "What's that thing?"
"Hope?" Rory suggested.
"Yes, that. I don't get it, but I'm not the professional. Just do it, Rory, Headmaster Charles would probably have his third heart attack if golden girl Gilmore didn't show her face."
"I'll think about it."
"That's all I'm–" Paris slammed her lips shut and leaned around Rory with a squint of her eyes.
Rory raised an eyebrow. "What are you looking at?" she asked.
"It's Logan and his alt-Stepford wife."
Closing her eyes, Rory swallowed. She didn't want to turn around. She had avoided Odette when she and Logan were together. If she didn't hear about Odette or see the woman, she didn't exist. Rory didn't want the last time she saw Logan be when he was with his wife. But she found her body twisting around anyway. She opened her eyes. Paris's eyes were sharp. It took Rory a few seconds to catch sight of Logan's hair and the familiar gray plaid trench coat he liked to wear. Some blocks away he was crossing a busy street, with a woman who Rory assumed was Odette on his arm. She was shorter than Logan so her face was blocked by his shoulder but for a split second Logan fell a step behind and Rory saw it.
The belly.
In a flash, Logan and Odette were swallowed by the 7th avenue crowd.
"Can you believe he's moving to London?" Paris asked when Rory turned back around.
"What?"
"Doyle's friends with Logan on Facebook. Little wifey made a post about the move and tagged him in it."
"London?" Rory echoed.
"Yep. You know what I think? I think he's running from a bad deal. Wouldn't be the first time."
Rory pulled her coat tight around her throat. It wouldn't be.
