Jess sat in his car beside the yellow and white painted colonial resort building, overlooking the Atlantic, gathering his courage to walk up those stairs. This was the place Celeste had admitted herself a little more than a month ago to get the help she desperately had needed. This wasn't the first time Jess was there of course - he'd visited with Evie about once, sometimes twice, a week - it was encouraged even, but this was the first time he was there on his own, Celeste having asked him to come alone on her doctor's request for a joint session, the first of its kind.

Sure, he knew the general diagnosis - depression with a possibility of panic attacks. Either way - she was now somewhere where people seemed to know what they were doing and each time he'd seen her since she'd seemed a little better though still a little hesitant when it came to commenting on her condition. The trouble with coming with Evie each of the previous times was that it didn't really give them much of a chance to talk about them or even Celeste - Jess simply not pushing it and allowing the two most important girls in his life to enjoy each other's company, both of them having missed each-other painfully. Celeste also video chatted with Evie almost every night, just before bath, sometimes not really even talking, just humming one of the songs they both knew, while she observed her play. Some of those calls had been happy ones, some mostly spent explaining to Evie why mommy was away while Evie cried - the general explanation being that mommy was sick and had to stay away to get better, some ending more poorly, with Evie pouting or not wanting to talk to her and Celeste crying because she missed her. It wasn't easy for anyone.

In a short timeframe, they'd weighed a lot of options, both in-home therapist, family therapists locally and regular admittance at one of the Manhattan treatment centers, but it had once again been Paris who'd directed them where they were now for the kind of care that put their clients needs first. Jess didn't mind the hefty price tag, having figured that overreacting was better than underreacting.

He took another deep breath, unsure what to prepare himself for, and pushed the door of his black BMW open, and walked over the gravel lot up the white wooden steps, already being greeted by some of the staff that knew him.

As Jess reached the open white wood-panelled lobby he could already hear someone calling his name, noting in passing the women in velour jumpsuits chatting by the window looking out to the ocean in the back of the room. It was the kind of mental health resort that CEO-s and celebrities came to, both the patients and visitors sworn to secrecy.

"Mr. Mariano, right this way," the young blond-haired petite receptionist, dressed in a purple tunic uniform, said and gestured to him to follow her upstairs.

He barely nodded in response, always feeling rather out of place in these hallways, and followed her. The place made him feel poor, while he was by no means, even down to not being dressed adequately, but he tried to ignore it.

Celeste was already positioned behind the door of dr. Tyler's office, waiting expectantly on the couch, raising to greet him. She wore her gradient leggings, a relaxed tencel shirt dress and loafers. She looked definitely more relaxed and rested, the ocean air and the possibility of full night's sleep each night certainly helping, and maybe he was just imagining it, but she almost looked like she'd gained a few pounds, her thighs and cheeks appearing a little softer than before, but this wasn't something he really had a problem with, only really caring about what went on inside her brain.

Before he even had the chance to say 'hello' she threw her arms around his neck hugging him firmly, having missed him too. His arms squeezed her waist and kissed her on the cheek. It was her scent, that he almost kept forgetting how much he missed, the realization hitting him painfully each time, over and over again.

"You look good," Jess noted and pulled his leather jacket off, exposing his t-shirt that hung loosely to his body. Jess had lost some weight, the concern and the change in schedules by being a single parent for a month had left its mark, as going to the gym and eating well had lost its importance to him. He was utterly grateful that the nanny, Rory and Logan had been using along sides Maya, Cathy, had been willing to take on Evie, and watched her while Jess was at work, on most days bringing Evie to Rory's and Logan's so the kids could play together, which had been a monumental help to distract the girl from missing her mommy. But still, even with that, the evenings, nights and mornings with Evie were exhausting and he'd begun to wonder how on Earth Celeste had managed whenever he had worked late or been away, feeling guilty himself for not noticing all the work she put into it. It was all the little things: the nightly wakings, the cooking, Evie's little quirks like in what order she liked to have her teeth brushed or which clothes she liked, shopping for her new clothes which she seemed to outgrow within weeks, how to sing to her, which he barely managed, just to name a few.

"Thanks," she replied politely.

"So, what is this?" he asked, taking a seat on the white couch where she'd sat before, her taking a seat next to him. He wondered if he should've been preparing for this somehow.

"This is where I will try to explain things to you, as I've understood them, and we discuss things that will help us move forward," Celeste explained with full clarity, surprising him with her composure.

He squeezed her hand in assurance, hoping for the best. The process had been difficult for him as well. Not only had he had to deal with everything at home alone, he'd also cried a lot himself, not really caring to admit to it, the first few weeks when Celeste had been away and he'd put Evie to bed. He had no control over how she was feeling and he didn't really know how much her being away was helping her. He felt incredibly lonely and scared in this, scared of whether he'd ever get her back. But he'd had a support system around, thankfully. April had began to hang out more in the evenings, just for the sole purpose of keeping him company, Jess suspecting it was Lorelai's hand at play at that, also Rory and Logan had been around more often, and he'd taken Evie to Stars Hollow a number of times, the clinic being just on the way there, just a few miles before New Haven.

It wasn't long until they were invited into Dr. Tyler's office. The room was painted in a light shade of beige, the darker vaulted ceilings and numerous windows brightening the place up nicely. They took a seat on the beige couch, Dr Tyler positioning herself into the blue-patterned armchair opposite them that matched the throw pillows on the couch. The doctor was a grey-haired woman approaching 60, most likely, whose every word and gesture seemed meticulously considered and timed, and Jess felt utterly grateful for Paris' suggestion. At least it didn't feel like he was trusting Celeste in the hands of just anybody, everything he'd read about Dr. Tyler afterwards only confirming it for him that this was the right place for her.

They began with a brief introduction of the goals and expectations that Celeste had set with dr. Tyler, explaining them to Jess as well - so he too would know what to expect - and for the most part it was what Celeste had told her in the hallway already.

"Celeste, why don't you try to explain to Jess what brought you here to us and work onwards from there. Feel free to take a break if you need to, and remember this is a safe space," the doctor encouraged.

"Jess," Celeste began, taking a deep breath and looking straight at him as she held his fingers, the contact helping her significantly. "God, I don't even know where to begin," she added nervously, glancing to Dr. Tyler for support.

"Start with whatever feels the easiest," she suggested.

"Okay," she exhaled, trying again. "What I want you to know is that this... this depression that I am dealing with, is not your fault. And it isn't my fault either," Celeste said. This had become a mantra for her almost, treating her depression as a disease not as a definition of her. "Nobody can pinpoint it for sure, where it began, why or how, but it is likely that after having Evie, with my hormones all over the place, that could've triggered some issues that were more deep rooted. I felt out of place, rootless, and while giving up communication with my family was cutting out the toxic relationships in my life, I guess I never really realized how important even those connections were for my identity. Even just opposing the way they did things was a part of my identity, and I just felt like I lost it all with my name. Yes, I am now Celeste Mariano, and I have no hesitations about that, but I guess I just didn't feel enough like I belonged anywhere. I isolated myself from a lot of possibilities, thinking I was protecting myself and Evie, hardly letting new people in, and then little by little I began feeling worse about myself. I began questioning why didn't my family ever want me for me, why I deserved to keep fearing and having to stay hidden, I worried I would never be good at anything again like I had been. I felt no sense of purpose other than taking care of Evie, and mentally that just wasn't enough. I set expectations and limitations to myself, that weren't realistic nor necessary - in a lot of ways I still tried to compare myself to the person I used to be." she said and took a deep breath. "I want to thank you for sticking around, for not bailing on me, for being here despite all the hurtful things I said and...," she said, taking a deep breath and looking up, adding, "and almost did. I tried to sabotage us. I am really sorry that I even considered it. I am not healed, it's going to take time, but I want you to know that I hope that you can forgive me, forgive this disease for making your life so difficult. I am trying, I am really trying to beat this and I am doing this for me first, but you and Evie second. I don't want to lose you, I'll do whatever it takes to work on us, to get past this," Celeste explained, trying to keep her tears away.

"Celeste, remember we talked about this - your health comes first, but you cannot pressure Jess so he'd feel responsible for your happiness either," Dr. Tyler commented.

"Right, sorry. I guess to put it more simply, I want you to know that I want there to be an 'us', not just as co-parents to Evie. I want you to know I haven't given up on us," she added calmly, gently stroking his palm.

"Jess, how does hearing this make you feel?" Dr. Tyler asked.

"I guess… hopeful," he hesitated, searching for the right words. Happy? Relieved? Scared? Wanting to turn back time? Or fastforward?

"Anything else?" she continued, trying to get him to open up as well. The truth was that not only was he a man of few words orally, he really wasn't very comfortable in this type of setting, always feeling much more relaxed in speaking privately with Celeste.

"I want to do whatever I can to help, I'm here - I'm not going anywhere, and I really miss you. I wish you could come home, but I guess I am scared that it'll happen again," Jess admitted, looking at her, seeing her getting a little emotional.

"Celeste and I have actually been talking about her returning home. Celeste, would you like to comment on that yourself, perhaps?" Dr. Tyler suggested.

"I've started preparing for returning home," she said. "I have another therapist lined up, and I've met with her through a web conference already once, she's right there in Caroll Gardens and she has a 24/7 helpline if I need it. I've tried a few different medications, right now I think we have the right combination for me - the side effects are not too bad. And I am fully aware how vital it is that I stick to both of these components of my treatment," she explained, referring to her slight weight gain when mentioning the side effects. The medication wasn't news to him but what was important here was hearing her discussing this calmly and as treating a problem, as her means of coping.

"So when do you think…?" he asked expectantly, swallowing hard.

"As soon as she tells me she's ready, but there are other things to consider," Dr. Tyler explained.

Celeste was there on her own free will after all, and theoretically could leave whenever she wanted.

"But as for the minor details concerning her return, I would like it if you kept up the arrangement you have for your child for the time being, so the situation would differ from what it was, so she wouldn't feel like she's returning to the same situation. That means that ideally she should find herself things to keep her busy but not exerting herself. Exercising, catching up with friends, working a little is encouraged. She should find and do things that help her give purpose and meaning. You should try to spend time together, but that doesn't mean every single thing you do is putting in the extra effort to make it quality time - there needs to be times that are normal, boring, common. And she needs alone time too - she needs to learn to be on her own as well. Still, it would be wise to limit the use of external stimuli such as using the internet, especially social media, any sort of addictive activities. The aim is to ease her into any type of stress she might experience, and while I think it's a good idea for her to start working on the book she's mentioned, she should only do so if she feels ready for it. She might seem almost cured right now, but you both need to realize that setbacks are possible, no matter how much both of you want this to be over - what this just means is that both of you need to know how to respond if something happens. And this probably means that you, Jess, need to manage your expectations and stress as well, if anything does happen," Dr. Tyler explained.

"Celeste, how does all of this make you feel?" the doctor asked, after giving them both a moment to digest everything she'd just said.

"Honestly, I really miss Jess and Evie, but going back home scares me. I don't want to fall back into the same routine, the same mindset," Celeste admitted. While she missed her own bed, all the time she'd spent in that house feeling bad were clouding the positive emotions the place carried for her - but she knew that moving just because of that didn't make any sense - not financially nor for Evie, for providing her with the comfort of her own home. She'd been through enough having her mother stay away.

"Jess, what about you?" she asked.

"I absolutely want her to come home. This place is not life, it's one stage in getting better, as I've read," he expressed. He'd read anything he'd gotten his hands on.

Dr. Tyler nodded in agreement.

"But I would be lying if it didn't make me apprehensive of how everything will go," he admitted with a deep exhale. He didn't want to go back to feeling like he was walking on eggshells, hesitant to say the wrong thing, just waiting for her to shatter.

Celeste squeezed his forearm assuringly. She was in no position to make promises, but at least they were talking.

They talked a little longer, specifying some aspects of her treatment, going through some of her mantras, the means of catching her flawed thinking, and methods to avoid her thinking snowballing. Eventually they agreed that she would set the preliminary date for returning home a week from now, allowing Jess to make some arrangements by then and her to really feel confident in herself to take that leap.


Rory knocked on the frosted glass door the lable reading 'Lisa Mori, professor of Education and Innovation', in minimalistic type.

"Come in," a familiar voice replied.

"Hi," Rory greeted friendlily, and stepped through the door, holding two printouts of her thesis, one of them bound in black library buckram.

"Hey," Liza replied, raising to stand and hugging Rory over her belly. They'd really become much closer than just a teacher and a student, she was rather a mentor to her, a friend. "Wow, you look bigger each time I see you," Liza commented smilingly.

"Well, I just hope I'll be still moving in a month from now," Rory replied, knowing it was a real reality that they might put her on some form of bedrest. Her blood pressure had been a little high, so she was on close observation as it was, but she really didn't want to slow down just yet, her mindset being that she needed to grab the best of everything while she still could - as if running out of time.

"I thought you weren't due until September?" Liza inquired curiously.

"Well, it's twins so - it'll probably be sooner than that," Rory replied, having neglected to mention that part to her until now almost fearing that that would change something about the way Lisa thought of her and her future plans.

"Oh, wow, that's amazing," she replied.

Rory had wanted to keep the dream alive that once the babies were a little bigger she could be back in this very office setting up next plans to innovate the schooling system, but with twins she knew the outlook wasn't that bright or at the very least not with a brief timeline.

"Yeah," Rory replied less enthusiastically. While she was excited to meet her girls, planning to start getting everything in their home ready for their arrival as soon as she'd submitted her thesis that she was now holding in her hands now, she hated how she as a woman was asked to choose between motherhood and a career. Surely, her career was just put on hold, but she wanted to be the person Lisa could depend on - put her name into her projects, that as a doctoral student or as an assistant researcher - didn't even matter. She loved how working on these things with her made her feel and she just couldn't stand being stalled in getting ahead in her career once again. She'd waited for this so long, and now the feelings she had were just bittersweet.

"But here, I need your signature," Rory said, handing her the copies of her thesis.

"Heavy," she commented smilingly at the 150 page thesis, that really was much closer to a Doctoral thesis than a Master's, and signed the appropriate dotted lines on both of them. "So, has this process been what you hoped?" Lisa asked her as she handed them back to her.

"Well, I'm clearly not becoming a teacher as such," Rory chuckled at her own naivete from two and a half years ago when she'd stepped into her first class.

"Teaching here would also be teaching. I mean I know you want to come back. And while we might not be hiring anyone in the near year or so full time, there might be a few courses you could come and speak in - research methodology, real world interventions, things like that," she suggested.

"That'd be amazing," Rory replied. This did give her some more hope.

"Just let me know a few months in advance when you're ready and we'll talk - I know you'll have your hands full, but if this woman-dominated faculty won't bend for mother's who will, right?" Lisa explained. She didn't have any children of her own, her focus was crystal clear, but she knew good connections and talented students when she saw them.

"Thanks," she replied, before heading off with another hug and delivered her thesis to the faculty office just a few doors down the hall. NYU had been a completely different experience from Yale - even down to it's modern building that she'd mostly used and the ambiguity of stone-set traditions compared to Yale. But this was a different time as well, but she was glad she had taken this path despite the struggles of balancing motherhood with her studies during the entire process. Now she just needed to defend her work, the defence taking place in ten days from now - but she knew it by heart as it was, all she needed to do was show up.

She felt an odd sense of peace as she stepped out of the Steinhardt building, feeling like it was another end of an era and headed down LaGuardia to pick up her dresses from a shop that was just ten minutes from there. With her aspirations high, besides the defence, she still had two weddings to go to, Owen's and Robert's - each to their respective brides clearly, Lorelai's birthday coming up this weekend and the HPG spring gala in two weeks.

"Mrs. Huntzberger, welcome. We have your dresses right here," the shop owner who was working personally that day and to whom she'd spoken before, greeted her. She'd found this shop a couple of months ago. It was small, humble, carrying one of a kind items and grateful for her business while not being star-struck, like many designer stores were - and she certainly appreciated that.

"Can you just give me a minute," Rory panted, having clearly walked a little faster than she had needed to, feeling a little out of breath as she landed onto a slipper armchair by the changing rooms.

"Would you like a glass of water?" the owner asked.

"Sure," she breathed out.

A glass of water and a few minutes later she was up, her laptop satchel over her shoulder and looking over the dresses she'd ordered.

"They look good," she commented, especially loving the navy blue lace-sleeved gown that was a little heavier than the other two shorter and more summery dresses.

"We appreciate your business," she said, adding, "and if you don't mind, we'd be really grateful if you mentioned us if anybody asked where you got them from."

Rory was still not used to being asked things like that. Despite having been the topic of the gossip pages almost quarterly, she still found it difficult to wrap her head around the fact that somebody found her interesting, even if it was by association.

"Sure," she replied hesitantly, checking her phone to see how far her car was. Logan had given her a driver and a car to use, rather insisting than offering at this point, but knowing her well enough, it was not the kind that stood out too much, but as even that to Rory seemed unnecessary the car spent most of the time just driving close by, waiting on her when she needed it.

"Hi Hallam," Rory greeted the driver, as she stepped out of the store a minute later, handing him the dresses packed in garment bags.

"Mrs. Hunzberger," the man nodded courteously.

"Hallam, we've spoken about this - you can call me Rory," she insisted, as she stepped into the car, while he held the door open for her.

"Where to, Mrs. Huntzberger, sorry, Rory?" he asked as he had placed the dresses in the trunk and taken his place at the driver's seat.

"Home," she replied with a sigh. This was her life now - chauffers, nannies, babies, parties - she still hated how much that reminded of her of the classical society wives complex. And with her thesis soon defended, she was really just a well-educated version of one. She felt conflicted - almost wanting to prove and show that she wasn't, but it was seeming harder and harder to prove while she planned on staying at home for the forseeable future. She could already imagine herself going crazy, without any deadlines, other than her due date.