A/N: This was originally supposed to just be a oneshot thing. But. The positive reviews and my own desire have willed me to write another chapter. And, so, here it is. Jess' response.

He picks up the phone, dialing a number he hopes is still the same. He is not drunk. He promised himself he would do this completely sober. But, his hands are shaking and his breathing is heavy. He sits as he listens to the phone ring. Once, twice. Three times and he hears the click of her machine picking up. He considers hanging up, pretending it never happened. He could act like he never got her message. He never heard her voice laced with alcohol, telling him she was lonely. He almost convinces himself of this until he realizes that the recording has already started.

"Rory. It's me. I got your message. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to respond to it. Two years is a long time, Rory. And, you know what? I'm over it. This whole thing. Us. Whatever." He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the couch before closing his eyes.

In the brief seconds his eyes are closed, he can see her. And it is that night all over again. She looked almost afraid of him. But, he had wanted her. He wanted nothing more than for her to be with him, away from all the people who thought he would do nothing but rip her apart. Funny how he was the one who left broken in the end.

He picks up the phone again, dialing the same number once more. She picks up this time. "Hello?"

"Rory?"

"Jess." His name is full of regrets as it comes from her lips.

"I thought I would get your machine again…"

"I just got in. Did you call before?"

She hasn't heard the message. "Uh, yeah. Actually just a minute ago. I left a message but you can just delete it since I caught you this time."

"Oh…Okay."

"How are you?"

"Good, I'm good. Let's not talk about the message I left on your machine. Logan and I had just been in a huge fight and I was drunk. It was nothing."

His grip on the phone tightens. "Oh, sure. I understand."

He can hear a voice in the background and he knows that it's him. He can see him coming up behind her, putting his arms around her waist as she moves the phone to her other ear so he can nibble on her earlobe. "Okay. Well, I got to get going now." She is giggling as she hangs up the phone.

Two days later he calls again. Drunk, this time. It's better this way. He's not afraid this way. He won't hold back. Not this time. He dials and crosses his fingers she won't pick up this time. When she doesn't, he speaks.

"Rory. Here's what I meant to say last time we spoke. I hate you. I hate you for what you did to me. I hate you for not coming with me to California. I hate you for breaking me. Hell, you said I should never forgive you for that, right? Well, I won't. Everybody called me the fuck up. Everybody doubted me. Everybody was so sure I would screw everything up. Except for you. But, it was me against them, Rory. Me against that whole fucking town. Me against your mother. Me against your grandparents. Me against Dean. No one was on my side besides you. And you didn't have the strength to fight that battle, did you? You just didn't want to do that. It was too much time and energy for you. It was easier to just let me go, right? That night. I was right about knowing what you want. You wanted to go with me. Tell me you didn't love me. You did. You loved me more than you ever loved Dean. I don't think you even really loved him. You just felt sorry for him. You just didn't think you could do better. And then I came along. Tell me I didn't make you realize what you wanted.

"Christ, Rory. I hate you for putting me in this position. For calling me, for saying those things. Pour salt right in that fucking wound, why don't you? And then…oh God. When I called you back. Hearing you with him, after all that you said, it was too much. You've changed."

He feels it in his chest. That this is overwhelming him. And he hangs up the phone, barely breathing.