AN: OMG - so happy to get sooo many reviews. Thank you!
This chapter however will not be for those for whom miscarriage is a gentle topic or who are squimish. I'll add a recap to the beginning of next chapter for those who need to skip it.
Chapter 28
October 23rd, 2021
While Rory had had technically some time to adjust to the way Logan looked these days - his beard, his hair being like something almost untamable and perhap slightly overgrown, she still observed him like a world wonder. The fact that he was here after all these years - flesh and blood, his scent and his voice. He wore t-shirts not dress shirts these days, on most days at least, his present outfit of a light semi-casual denim shirt acting as a clashing agent between two worlds almost - the collar looked familiar, the material not so much. He no longer wore his Breguet watch but he had some type of a thin leather bracelet there which she didn't really know why he wore - she hadn't asked. His skin was rougher, dryer, showing signs of a recent tan.
But the fact that Logan had just said what she'd feared he'd say - almost brought Rory back to college in her mind. He always did have the nerve to say just what he wanted, this being a slightly more timid version of it. Even if he had at not said enough, saying he was doing it to spare her, his actions always had spoken louder than his words, hadn't they? Rory had been pretty good at reading him - she always had. She had been now too - but still it had felt like playing with fire this time.
"Rory?" Logan asked, pulling her out of the haze she'd been in for the past god-knows-how-many-seconds, a low ringing tone in her ears.
She'd felt like that before, and she knew what that meant. She had to tell him.
Rory began to say something, but the words just didn't come, her thoughts going a mile a minute now that it had caught up to reality again.
She, however, knew her options. She had even thought about those options in those ten minutes after Logan's call and before he'd arrived at her house with coffee and danishes, just like she'd expected. She knew him that well, even if he'd probably changed a lot in those years too - but his essense was the same. She could tell. But she didn't like any one of her options because all of them had the very real potential to leave her hurt and broken again, and that even if it was the outcome Logan hoped for the least. She was already hurting.
"I can't talk about it here..," Rory managed to spit out, looking around the sparsely crowded street, struggling to hold herself together.
"What? Why?" Logan asked, looking around, the response having not been what he'd expected. He'd expected her to run, cry or even yell at him - blame him or just tell him outright 'no'. He hadn't been naive enough to believe she'd just fall into his arms. He believe she had every right to be hesitant, he was too.
"Because I'm going to have to tell you something, but I don't think I'm going to be able to do that without falling apart and I don't want to be the loony woman on the sidewalk doing that," Rory replied with perfect composure, but she could already feel a lump forming in her throat.
Logan certainly looked guilty for causing this reaction, and concerned at her words. Of course - who would want a reaction like that?
Rory was trying her hardest to keep it together. It was all Em's doing really that she had this ability. Fine - in part her therapist's too. She counted to ten in her head and then to ten again. She had learned the ability to hold whatever she was feeling in long enough so she wouldn't cry in front of her daughter. It had happened a lot after she'd been born. They'd considered post-partum depression but as she hadn't been suicidal or considered high risk to harm her baby, nobody had really wanted to do much with her. She wasn't a priority, especially since she was already seeing a therapist.
Logan however, seemed to get the seriousness, and led her back towards his car that they'd taken to get here, having completely forgotten about their idea of grabbing some falafels. Rory just felt relieved he didn't say something like 'just tell me here, how bad can it be?'.
Rory wasn't even sure he'd speak to her after this, though. So there hadn't been any point in telling him anything concerning what she thought or felt about his recent statement. He might just retract everything he said the minute he heard.
God, how she'd dreaded this moment.
Arriving for the third time in front of Rory's house on Boulevard, Logan was feeling surprisingly familiar to the area already, but he did worry about her. What could be so bad?
Throughout the short drive, he'd kept glancing at her, while she just stared out the window, even closing her eyes for a moment. Rory looked visibly upset, her nose and mouth already a little reddish as if she'd been crying, and her eyes looked scared. He really didn't want her to feel like that.
Without a word he followed her inside, closing the door behind them.
Rory poured herself a glass of water from the tap, and took a large sip, forgetting her hostess skills by not offering him any - but it was not what he needed from her right now.
"Sit," Rory gestured, rather formally, and took a very deep breath.
"Just tell me...," Logan urged, trying to not show his nerves.
"I just need to tell you about something that happened, something you don't know about, before you start making statements like that - like you did before," Rory blabbered, nervously.
Logan nodded, accepting it.
"I did something stupid… I didn't tell you I was off the pill when I saw you in New Hampshire," Rory spit it out, and burst into tears, having not gotten as far as she'd hoped in her story without doing that.
It had been her doctor's suggestion to come off the pill, having been on it for too many years in a row. After all she wasn't planning on being sexually very active having thought they'd ended their nothing, and somehow seeing Logan again, with being a little drunk herself, she had just gotten swept up by him, like they usually did. It hadn't felt right doing things differently the last time they did.
Logan observed her, his eyebrows involuntarily rising at that statement.
Sure, he'd believed Rory had been on the pill, for years in fact. He had always been so careful with everyone else. It had never been an issue with them before - and now she'd forgotten to tell him about it. It certainly took him a moment longer than would've been appropriate for a life experienced man of his age, but then again he hadn't been in this situation before.
Odette teling him about getting pregnant hadn't been the same, as he hadn't slept with Odette for months before she told him, the statement almost sounding ridiculous coming from her. What had Odette done - jerked him off in his sleep? He highly doubted that.
But before Rory had a chance to say anything else, Logan had to ask.
"Rory - Em isn't…?" Logan asked in a serious tone, this literally being the worst betrayal he could imagine. She'd said it to his face that she was Jess'. Of course he'd done the math - she could've been his in theory, he didn't even know her birthday so he couldn't really know exactly.
"No.. not Em," Rory shook her head. "But I did get pregnant," she added. "I swear I didn't plan for it, I just thought I'd go get a pill in the morning, but I was just so… I just wasn't okay, I wasn't thinking straight," she explained in sobs.
What she, in fact, worried the most about was that Logan would think this had been her way of trying to trap him or intentionally mess up his life. She couldn't become that type of a gold-digger in his eyes.
November 17th, 2016
The Gilmore mansion felt eerie at night - it wasn't right for just one person to be living in it and the lack of furniture and things in the place didn't help to make it feel more homey. One could almost imagine it being a haunted house, several pieces of furniture still being covered up by sheets like ghosts, paintings coming to life, unexplained squeaks and cracks. It would've made the place a damn good haunted house.
Rory had only really set herself up in the study and the bedroom, hardly using any of the other rooms. She didn't want to be a burden to the maid that came once a week, usually clearing up after herself as much as possible.
The night was a stormy one - a couple of smaller branches having fallen on the balcony of her mother's old room, and the weeping willow at the side of the house brushed against the study's windows, rain pattering against the window stool.
She wasn't sure what had woken her - surely it was just a piece of garden furniture flying over or some open gate in the neighbor's yard slamming shut with a strong gust of wind. She was breathing heavily, trying to make sense of what time it was, but something else caught her attention.
She felt something damp beneath her, the sensation followed by embarrassment. Surely she hadn't wet herself? In the dark room she patted her hand over the bedsheet beneath her. It felt in part cool, in part still warm - but definitely wet. Her hand searched for the bedside lamp, finding its pull cord switch, as she pushed herself up to sit.
The shock of seeing blood, a lot of it, made her heart race in panic. She could feel her lips feeling cool, and her brain just a little light headed. She never was much good at the sight of blood. She'd blacked out from way less than this - even a few times from having her blood taken for tests.
But somehow all she could think of that moment wasn't what it meant, but how the hell was she going to get that stain out fo the mattress, as if fearing her grandmother's fury. Or letting the maid, who was coming the following day, see it. That was what she was panicing about, her mind already thinking back where she'd seen that bottle of bleech.
She made her way to the bathroom, cleaning herself up hastily. It was only as she returned, and begun to take care of the sheets that it hit her - it really was too much blood for anything to be okay.
But wasn't that what she wanted?
She could feel her tears coming at the thought of it, but the panic over the stains hadn't gone anywhere. She was already thinking about taking them down to the laundry room and giving them a good scrub, clearly not thinking straight.
With a few hasty movements she pulled the sheets off, only to realize, also the blanket was stained and the mattress too as she'd feared. It felt like it was something she should be embarrassed about and hide, maybe even throw out. Where would one buy a new mattress like this? She was worrying about what it might cost.
But as she made a few sudden movements, deciding to gather up the linen and throw them down the laundry shaft, she suddenly felt faint.
It was only then it hit her that something could be seriously wrong. She'd done her fair share of reading about things like this - people died from things like this.
It must've been some life preserving instinct that made her realized she was all alone in the house.
She really didn't feel good - her heart was racing, she felt sweaty. Losing her sight for a second, but still having consciousness and balance enough to realize where she was - she made her way to the bedroom in search for her phone.
She didn't even know what she'd said - "Bleeding, baby, address…apologizing for the inconvenience as she wasn't sure if she really needed help or not," - probably something along those lines. She made her way downstairs, feeling even worse now - a dull ache in her back, and while she didn't bother taking a good look, she could sense something warm dripping down her legs again, having either missed or soaked through the first pad.
She unlocked the front door and opened the gate.
She wasn't sure what happened after - just recalling darkness. All she knew was that she'd been found collapsed in the lobby, the call having likely saved her life.
Yet all she could think about when she woke up in the ambulance gurney had been grandma's carpet and mattress, the shame of this being the primary feeling. She just wasn't ready to feel anything else yet.
"Anyone you want the hospital to call for you?" one of the EMTs asked, after a few other routine questions, seeing she was conscious again, the saline drip having helped a little. Lorelai was her first emergency contact, but she was glad they'd asked.
"Um… my dad, Christopher Hayden," Rory replied weakly, knowing Lorelai was still on her honeymoon.
It was again the feeling of shame that made her not want to be any trouble. Her dad had just been on her mind because she had just been in Boston the day before, and had lunch at Spyce with him, like they'd agreed, though a week later because Christophers schedule was a mess.
It had been truly good to catch up, the heavier topics put aside. More than anything it had been his dad who had talked about all the ways he was willing to support whatever Rory wanted to do with her life. Naturally Rory didn't like accepting money from him, but she did take up on his offer to cover her insurance for now. She hadn't said why - but she knew she was going to need it. She was going to need it, or just his money, depending on how much this cost, now too.
It wasn't until the doctor had said it - "a missed miscarriage" when it finally begun to sink in.
She hadn't expected to cry the way she did. After all, just mere weeks ago she'd considered having an abortion.
She'd been set on what she needed to do, despite not having decided fully. She had just done what she knew best - prepared for all possibilities, her appointment for either options being scheduled for her next week.
It was either seeing the heartbeat or swallowing the first pill. But now there wasn't going to be either.
But in part what she cried about was that she no longer had a reason to call Logan. It was the loss of all hope.
October 23rd, 2021
"Were you going to tell me?" Logan asked, letting in Rory's description of event sink in. She hadn't gone too much into the details or what she'd felt, but Logan could tell she hadn't and didn't feel well - that was obvious.
"I'd gone through my inbox the day before, I knew I had your number there somewhere, and I did - even if I'd deleted it from my contact lists. I was going to call you," Rory sobbed. It had just been a matter of days, maybe even as soon as the following day if she mastered to gather up her courage. "Though I'll admit, I wasn't sure what I was going to do yet. But I thought you deserved to have a say," she added in a whimper.
Logan was quiet. It wasn't a feeling that he knew - it was a loss and a gain in one. They'd created something, and they'd lost something. For him those things had happen in the course of a few minutes.
"I was going to suggest that I didn't want or need anything from you, that I was sorry I let it happen, that I didn't do it on purpose. I swear I didn't," Rory pleaded in sobs.
The part about her doing something like that on purpose hadn't even crossed Logan's mind. Frankly, it sounded ingenious, almost making him wish she had that sneaky gene in her but he knew she didn't. She wasn't even willing to admit to having feelings, which he was sure had been there in the end, not to mention doing something like this on purpose.
"I was willing to consider an aboriton if you were against keeping it...," Rory continued, wriping her nose into a napkin. "I wanted her… I really did, I just didn't want her to get sucked into that life…," Rory added. It had always been a 'her' in her mind.
She looked more broken than he'd ever seen her, her legs pulled up, her eyes red - hiding her face in between the phrases she spoke.
"I wish you had… either way," Logan said, deciding to stick to what he could say to help any of this.
"I felt like I caused it - like by even thinking about ending it, she might have felt like she wasn't wanted," Rory sobbed, that really being the root of the problem. It hurt her the most that she felt that guilt for even having considered how her life would've been simpler without her. After finding out she was having Em, her guilt had just become more scattered - relief, guilty for that relief, guilt for feeling happy - all blended into a mess of emotions. Guilt for not having told him even just a day before it had happened.
"It wasn't your fault," Logan assured, it being one of the few things he did know for sure, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his chest where she kept sobbing, leaving damp tear stains on his shirt. He couldn't care less about the stains.
Logan wasn't entirely sure what he felt - it was a lot to take in. But he knew it wasn't her fault.
He couldn't really comprehend the loss he'd never known, but all he kept thinking was that he wished she'd just called him sooner. Maybe things would've been different?
