Ah, okay. So I have no idea if anyone still cares about this story that I published about a year and a half ago … but I'm finally updating it … I actually started writing this as soon as I published the first chapter, got writer's block, and then promptly forgot about when life got busy. I wanted to make sure this chapter was good enough to follow up the lovely reviews I got on the first chapter, but I've suddenly remembered it and I'm saying what the hell! So I'm now revisiting this idea and this one focuses purely on Logan, since I love him so much as a character, but feel that the revival didn't do him justice. While I was happy with the amount of scenes he and Rory had together, he was a very one dimensional character. We didn't get any explanation about the kind of person he is in 2016, other than his zero cares about cheating on his fiancée, which is not the Logan I know and love. This was my attempt to fill in some of the gaps that the revival did not answer, such as how he ended up back in London, getting along with his father once more, and engaged to Odette. If people are still interested then I will endeavour to write another chapter, so please let me know. I hope you like it.
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He's an idiot.
Logan flops to the couch with a heavy sigh, a glass of scotch in his hand. Odette's words are still ringing in his ear, despite the fact that she'd left over an hour ago.
"Do you even love me, Logan?"
He's not even sure anymore, of anything. What has he even been doing the last year or so? How did he end up back in the family business, and let his father rope him into a basically arranged marriage?
He's tried so hard to put Rory out of his mind the last few weeks. After she'd left him in New Hampshire, he'd dropped the boys back home and returned to London. He's been going through each day since on autopilot. It hadn't taken long for Odette to notice that something was up. Now that they live together, it's harder to avoid certain conversations.
She'd caught him off guard with the question about how he felt about her. Sure, he'd been lying to her for a long time now, but it had been easier when she was in another country, when she wasn't around to question the look in his eyes, the inflection in his voice. And when she'd asked, he had realised that he was sick and tired of lying to her. This isn't him; being so cavalier towards someone he's supposed to care about. Maybe it was the old him, the pre-Rory Logan, before he'd met her the first time. It hadn't been him for a long time, although that part of him had definitely reappeared the last couple of years.
He'd moved back to London three years ago, when his father had visited him in California to 'congratulate' him on his success. Mitchum Huntzberger did not beg, but it was the closest he had ever witnessed, as the family patriarch had told his son he was proud of him. Logan had almost fallen over at those words. He'd been alone in California, throwing all of his time and energy into his work. He hadn't returned to his wild boy ways in those days, but rather had stayed away from women after Rory had rejected his proposal. So when his father had made him an offer than most sane people wouldn't refuse, he'd given in. He'd told himself that enough time had passed, and he was a stronger man now, someone who could stand up to his father when necessary. Of course, his father still had the special talent of manipulating people without them realising that's what he was doing, which is exactly how he had ended up with Odette.
They'd met at a fundraising event hosted by Mitchum, who had introduced the two because he and Odette's father were business acquaintances. She was pretty, funny, and could hold a conversation, unlike most society women his age. Most importantly, she was tall, blonde, and tan, nothing like the girlfriend he still hadn't gotten over. They'd spent the entire event together, unwilling to chat with the old fogies that his father had invited. That had led to exchanging phone numbers, which had developed into coffee dates, and dinner dates, and eventually a relationship. Everything had been fine, until his father had called him into his office one day about six months later, and handed him a box. The Huntzberger family heirloom that had been passed down for generations.
Mitchum had rambled on and on about what a wonderful wife Odette would make, how she would support him with his business ventures, and uphold the Huntzberger family image. All of it had gone over Logan's head though, as he stared at the ring that was so different from the one he'd used last time he'd proposed to a woman. The proposal that had ended with him walking through the grounds of Yale University, alone and miserable.
Even once they'd been engaged, his relationship with Odette hadn't become too difficult. She'd remained in Paris, working with her family's business, and his life had continued as usual. That is, until the day he ran into Rory Gilmore again. He still remembers it so clearly.
Logan smiled and laughed politely at whatever joke the older man who worked with his father had made. Being brought up as a Huntzberger had taught him how to behave in high society situations, but he didn't take any pleasure in it. He glanced at his watch discretely and excused himself from the conversation, citing an urgent phone call as his excuse.
A flash of brown hair caught his eye, and he did a slight double take. That couldn't be …
He shook his head; sure that he was imagining things. As if Rory Gilmore would be in London. Last he heard (or read through a quick Facebook stalk) she had been working in New York after Obama's campaign trail had ended. Without realising what he was doing, he began to move closer, mimicking the woman's movements.
As he moved closer, his chest began to ache. The woman certainly walked like Rory, such a distinct way about her.
"Excuse me." He murmured as he pushed past a crowd of people. As he approached her, the woman suddenly turned and he was standing right in front of her.
Rory.
Her blue eyes, just as blue as he remembered, widened before a soft smile took over her delicate features. "Hello, Logan."
They ended up going out for a drink, and then dinner, with the promise to catch up next time she was in town, which had been sooner than he'd expected. Which had become a frequent event, which had led from one thing to another …
He sighs heavily, dragging a free hand across his face. He knows he's done the wrong thing for a long time, with very little remorse for his actions. He's always tried to compartmentalise and focus on each woman separately, as if they had no effect on each other's lives in any way. He's ashamed to think about he not only treated Odette terribly, but also tried to justify it to himself, just because he loves Rory. As if his feelings excuse his actions towards another person.
"Do you even love me, Logan?"
He hadn't known what to say, because the truth would be too cruel. He doesn't, not like he loves Rory. But how can he possibly say that to her face? It's always meant to be Rory. Except that it's not.
He should have fought for her. He should have left Odette sooner, should have told her the truth, explained to Rory that he wanted to be more than just friends with benefits, and "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas". It'd been all or nothing nine years ago, so why had he settled for such a superficial relationship now?
Because it's Rory, and having any part of her in his life is better than nothing at all. She still amazes him and makes his heart jump, even after so many years. She is – was – the best thing in his life, and he let her go because he was a coward. Not enough of a man to stand up to his family, to be the man that Odette deserves.
Not enough of a man to tell her how he really feels, in case she rejects him again. Not enough to make a decision that will actually make him happy.
He groans aloud into the silence of his apartment, half slamming the scotch glass down on the coffee table.
A knock suddenly rings out through the apartment and Logan's brow furrows as he stares at the door in confusion. He's sure Odette hasn't returned, considering how angry she was when she left. Oh, please don't let it be his father.
He rises from the couch and heads over to the door, pulling it open without glancing through the peephole first. When he locks eyes with the person standing in front of him, all the air leaves his lungs in one fell swoop.
"Rory?"