Chapter 17
Logan arrived at my house around six with Chinese food in tow. He held up the bags to show me, and it looked like he'd gotten more than enough. He remembered how much I love the cuisine. I noticed his other hand held a bottle of wine. I've come to really enjoy wine as I've gotten older, and it's become quite the habit between the two of us. I don't know if it's to help us move beyond the state of discomfort that lingers because of my decision, or if there's some unknown reason Logan relies on it in my presence. Although, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't using it as a bit of a crutch myself.
"Looks like you've got enough for ten," I said with a smile.
"As I recall, this was par for the course...unless your appetite has shrunk," he rebutted.
"Not in the least," I replied with a chuckle.
I showed him into the kitchen, and he set the bags on the table. As he arranged the boxes, I got out plates and utensils. Logan looked a little surprised.
"Getting all fancy, Ace?" he asked pointing at the plates.
"I just figured you were used to eating on real plates."
"Not Chinese. Eating out of the box is part of the experience. Without it, there's no mystique," he explained.
I laughed because it sounded just like something my mom would say.
"You're absolutely right! It's like feng shui for noodles, and as an added bonus, no clean-up!"
I moved the dishes to the counter and grabbed some wine glasses. I retrieved the bottle opener, handed it to Logan, and he opened the bottle. We sat at the table in the kitchen as we ate from the cartons in true Gilmore fashion.
Over the course of the meal, we chatted mostly about work. He told me how he'd been reading my book and was enjoying it. I was impressed because it definitely was not his kind of book, but assumed it was mostly because it was my story. There was still this attraction between us, and I could feel the sexual tension building the longer we were in the same room together. It was like two magnets pulling towards each other, but I couldn't let myself get sucked into something like that right now.
Once we were finished eating, I put away the leftovers and suggested we switch venues. The living room seemed the most logical since I had everything set up in there.
"All of my photo albums are in the living room," I said.
We started walking, and I noticed he didn't bring his glass with him.
"Don't forget your glass!" I recommended. "Oh, and could you grab the corkscrew?"
"Going for a second bottle already?" he joked. "Am I really that bad?"
"No, but I like to be prepared," I replied with a smile.
After grabbing his glass and the corkscrew, he met me back in the living room. While he made himself comfortable on the couch, I took the albums from the bookshelf. I set a few on the table, keeping them in chronological order. I opened the first book, skipping the first few pages. They contained pictures of my baby shower and me looking as big as a house.
"I don't think you want to see these," I said quickly moving onto pictures of Richard.
"Why wouldn't I?" he asked with a soft smile.
"Because I was as big as a house. Trust me, you don't want to see that!"
"Let me be the judge of that," he countered.
Reluctantly, I went back to the beginning of the book. Mom made me take weekly pictures starting at twelve weeks when I first started showing. I watched Logan as he began turning the page. I sat nervously wondering what he was thinking. He had a slight smile, but I couldn't tell if it was a mocking expression because he'd never seen me fat before.
As he flipped through the pages, his smile grew bigger like the bump in my pictures.
"What's so funny?" I asked curiously.
"Nothing, I'm not laughing," he said trying to tame his smile.
"Your face says otherwise."
"I promise you, I'm not laughing," he reassured me.
"Then, why are you smiling?"
"I don't know, Ace."
He had to know! Why would he have such a grin while looking at pictures of a fat me? I wondered. He kept turning the pages until he got to Richard's birth. My mom had been the one to go in with me and managed to take a few not-so-flattering pictures that never made the book. She also captured the moment they put the baby in my arms, which I didn't even remember. Logan had stopped on that page as his expression turned to sadness. He studied the picture. At first, it was a somber look, but the wheels were turning in his head, and he slammed the book closed.
"Logan -"
"No. I think this was a bad idea," he interrupted sounding slightly angry.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"You should be," he replied harshly.
I was not expecting that. His anger continued to rise, and it was written all over his face.
"You should have told me! I would have been there - I wanted to be there!" he said sounding livid.
"How? How were you supposed to be with me and Richard? Your family certainly wouldn't allow a lowlife, such as myself, to be your wife or the mother of your children!"
"That's not fair! You know I don't care about them! Seriously, Rory, I would have done anything to be there for you," he avowed.
"I know, but there's nothing we can do to change that. All we can do is accept it and move on," I replied. "Do you think we can do that?"
There was a pause that started feeling awkward. I could see the wheels turning from frustration to a calmer look. I didn't think I was asking too much, but this was my fault. We'd just continue to make ourselves sick running in circles around what might have been and what I should have done. I wanted us to have a civil relationship, for the sake of Richard.
"I suppose I can try...for Richard's sake," he reluctantly agreed.
I offered a warm smile. He returned it and set down the book to open the bottle of wine I'd set on the coffee table. He poured each of us a glass. This silence was starting to feel long.
"Are you ok, Logan?"
"I'm good, Ace," he said softly and gave my hand a little squeeze before going back to the baby book.
After a few minutes, he broke the silence.
"You looked beautiful while you were pregnant," he nearly whispered. "I'm sorry I missed it."
I blushed. Was he flirting with me, or just trying to placate me? I didn't know what to say. I remembered feeling extremely large by the end of the pregnancy, I thought. I went back to watching Logan. He'd gotten to the hospital pictures, right after Richard was born. His expression was tender, soft, and sad. I wanted to crawl into a hole. I hadn't considered this outcome when I invited him over. I had this overwhelming urge to give him a hug, but I didn't think that as a good idea. Rather, I set my hand on his leg, and he put his hand on top of mine. I was still looking at him when his eyes met mine. He leaned toward me.
"Logan..."
Moving the book off his lap, he slid closer to me. I felt his hands on my cheeks, pulling me closer to him. Our lips met in a gentle kiss. I couldn't believe what was happening. I was in shock, but it felt so good, even better than I remembered or in my dreams. God, it felt so electrifying to be kissing him again, I thought. I was slipping into the moment. I put my hand on his and held it. No, I can't do this. I can't have another failed attempt with Logan. I pulled away.
"We can't do this," I stated, voice shaking.
"I'm sorry, I -"
"It's not that I don't want this because I do," I confessed. "I just don't want whatever is going on with us to affect Richard's relationship with you. I can't be the reason it fails."
"Ace, it won't. Besides, you can't deny this magnetic feeling," he countered.
Was he reading my mind? I wondered.
"That's not the point."
"So, what am I missing then?" he asked.
"We've got a son, Logan," I began. "I need to put him first, and I can't let my feelings lead me, no matter how good it feels."
"Why not?"
I couldn't say anything. I didn't have an answer for him. The truth was that I wanted him. I've always wanted him, but this didn't seem like the best idea. Things were still fresh, I knew the wound was new and I didn't want to reopen it. How could he even want me after I kept this from him this whole time? I thought.
"I've missed you, Ace," he admitted softly.
"Logan -"
"It's always been you, and I can't deny it any longer."
He took my hand and looked into my eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into my soul.
"I've missed you, too," I confessed.
He smiled at me with a sense of relief and happiness. I'd validated his own feelings by reciprocating them.
"But I think we need to be very careful. It's not just us anymore. We've got Richard and you've got your daughter, as well," I added.
"You're right. I just can't help but think this could be my last shot at happiness. I never thought it would happen, but here we are..." his voice trailed off.
It's almost the same thing I'd said to Lane. Why were we never able to make it work? I asked myself. His words struck me deeply. Before I knew it, I'd moved back towards him. I took his face in the palms of my hands and brought it to mine. I kissed him with a passion I didn't even know I had in me. It was like the fire of a thousand suns burning inside me. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me even closer.
It felt so incredible like he was filling the void of what had been missing in my life since our parting. He was holding onto me as if I were about to slip out of his arms at any moment. I'd never felt more safe and loved. Logan was the one. He was always the one. A few minutes later, we finally came up for air.
"I'm...I'm sorry," I apologized. "I don't know what came over me. Here, I was saying we shouldn't do this, and then, I basically jump you."
"I've been hoping for this for nearly nineteen years," he said and wrapped his arms around me. "I've got no intentions of letting you go ever again. I love you, Rory. Despite everything, I love you and always have."
"It's always been you, Logan," I agreed.
We sat in our content state for a moment before we moved. He rearranged himself, leaving one arm around my shoulders. I could feel myself relaxing against him, finally feeling comfortable. I hadn't felt this way in a man's arms since the last night I spent with him. Sure, some felt ok, but it was never quite right.
He grabbed the baby book and started going through them again. He started asking so many questions, and I could hardly keep up, but he patiently awaited my every answer. I even pulled up a bunch of videos from Richard's childhood.
A couple of hours later, we'd finished our third bottle of wine.
"I really should get going home. I've got an early morning meeting," he said.
"Ok, "I replied quietly. I didn't want him to leave.
We walked to the door and stopped. Encircling my waist, he pulled me close, and our lips met in a tender, passionate kiss. It ignited the fire inside me once again. Suddenly, I wanted him, all of him. I didn't know if it was the booze or the years of being lonely. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting my fingers run through his hair. I pressed myself against him. Our lips parted but gently grazed the others'. Without warning, he pulled back. Now, I was confused.
"I really should go..." he said begrudgingly.
"You don't have to..." I replied suggestively. The wine had made me bolder than I'd been in quite some time. I ached for his touch, his body.
"You don't want me to go?" he whispered hopefully.
I bit my lower lip and shook my head no.
"Where's your room?" he asked giving me deja vu.
"Upstairs."
"Show me."
