"Have you seen this?" Lorelai texted, sending Logan a link to a short article in the Sun. Lorelai never was much for reading British newspapers but ever since Rory had become a subject, she'd subscribed to a news alert in her name, just to make sure she didn't miss anything. She knew Rory struggled with these things and what she could do was make sure she knew before Rory did.
"No yet," Logan replied.
"F***!" he muttered to himself, seconds later, glancing at the new exposé on him and Rory.
"Thanks for letting me know," he texted Lorelai back. This was the least Rory needed right now. She was beginning to seem more and more like herself, even her self-esteem had improved both the kind that involved her research and her person.
"Vera, can you please reschedule my meetings today and tomorrow. And call my driver. I need to go," he said to his assistant.
Roughly 17 hours after she got off the phone with Rory the second time, Paris stood at the reception of one of the largest public hospitals in Marrakech. While the place was in less than ideal condition, it did smell of disinfectant - a promising start at least, Paris thought. Her French came in handy in Morocco, being spoken almost as much as Arabic, and she'd made sure to respect the locals by wearing a loose headscarf to blend in better. She'd worn her old wedding ring, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the sensation, knowing that pretending to be his wife would make things much easier in this part of the world. She'd already made it to the local police department and two other hospitals that afternoon straight from the airport, attracting shocked looks from the receptionists and doctors she'd spoken to. A woman demanding information the way Paris did was an unfamiliar sight, bound to draw attention.
She was asked to wait finally after the receptionist made a few phone calls and five minutes later a doctor arrived to speak to her.
"So he's here?" she reflected in French, after getting the essential overview form the attending doctor, receiving a confirmation in return.
After hearing that there was nothing more serious than a case of a stomach virus with accompanied dehydration, she could breathe a little easier. On top of that Finn had a fractured leg, as he'd passed out from dehydration on the street and fallen down a flight of stairs. In that sense his condition could've been a lot worse.
"Hey," she greeted, entering the surprisingly decent hospital room.
"So this is what I have to do to get you to go on a trip with me?" Finn smirked from the gurney bed, one leg in a cast up to his knee. He was very glad to see her.
"I got worried after the embassy told me you didn't get on the plane," she noted.
"I broke my phone when I fell, and I haven't exactly been mobile" he explained, gesturing towards the bits of metal and plastic on his side table. He'd somehow managed to remove his SIM at least.
"That explains it," she sighed.
"Thank you for coming," he added sincerely.
"The doctor said they are going to release you tomorrow. You still look a little pale but I can look after you at the hotel for a few days before Logan needs his jet back," she explained.
"Call the Dar Rhizlane and use my card, that place was amazing and they still have my luggage," he suggested.
"Okay," she agreed. It seemed she would be getting at least a tiny glimpse of the holiday she would've gotten had she decided to join Finn in the first place.
"Also, can I use your phone, I think I should call Logan and say thanks for getting you here," he added.
"You rest, you'll call tomorrow," Paris ordered, texting Rory and calling her embassy contact right after.
"How have you been?" Cara asked over a web session, as she had a touch of the flu. Neither of them had wanted to cancel their session completely, and Cara was dedicated enough to do what she could.
"It's been tiring, Logan's been working a lot and Finn's been away. Leah is being a handful," she explained casually.
"It can be a lot of work, I am sure, but how about how you are feeling?" she asked, trying to dig a little deeper.
"I've been trying to focus on myself, when I have had a moment to think at least, and I think I've accepted Logan as he is. I don't aim to, I can't, care about what others think when it comes to our relationship at the very least. It is too crucial for me. I am now just struggling how to prove to him that I really am past it," Rory explained, feeling like there was still something there not quite right between them.
"Perhaps it isn't something you show or prove intentionally," she explained, "usually things like this prove themselves the best when they are not presented as such but as it's proved in a real live situation. So I wouldn't worry about it, just do the best you can. Keep focusing on yourself in the present and trying to focus on the outcome you want," she added.
"Rory hi," Gwen called. She was still in London.
"Hi Gwen, everything is going well with the interviews?" Rory asked, slicing some cucumber at the same time.
"Yes, it's fine," she began, changing the subject, "Listen, I need to tell you something," she added.
"Sure, what is it?" Rory asked.
"I am sorry, I honestly didn't mean for this to happen, but it seems I might have leaked some personal information about you," Gwen explained, sounding genuinely scared of how Rory would react.
"What!?" Rory asked, not sure what she was hearing, placing the knife she had been holding down on the counter.
"I sort of told my mom about your depression. I just wanted her to see that other people out there are dealing with the same thing she is. Later she asked why I was in London and I guess the names and the HPG just linked in her head or something. She spends her time watching tv and reading the gossip pages, and honestly I have no idea to whom she told or how that got out, but I swear there was no money in it for neither of us," Gwen explained, pleadingly.
"So it's printed somewhere?" Rory's voice trembled as she fell to a chair, defeated.
"The Sun," she sighed.
"I've been trying not to keep up with it, I honestly don't want to know what it says," she commented, trying hard to focus enough to get the cucumbers onto Leah's plate.
"But please believe me, I am sorry, I didn't mean to. I was just trying to cheer her up a bit," Gwen pleaded.
"I got to go," she replied. Rory hung up the phone, pouring Leah a glass of water, while her insides trembled.
It was out. Now the real challenge began, trying not to care. She took a deep breath after another, squatting down trying to do everything she could not to freak out. She was home alone with Leah, and she couldn't break down now.
A few minutes passed in silence, until Leah requested, "More!"
Rory rose, heading back to the kitchen counter, and pulling a fruit smoothie from the cupboard and opening it for Leah before placing it in front of her. For now it had worked, her breathing had steadied.
