He sat at his desk, working away on the month end reports when he was interrupted by a knock on his already open door.

"Hey Boss, you got a second?" a voice called.

He looked up. "Sure Mike, what do you need?"

"Some of the staff has hacked around the cite blockers we have in place, and before I go in and wreak havoc with their systems I want to make sure it's okay with you."

"Is there a way to make sure all of the work product is protected?" He most certainly didn't want to have a line out his door with people complaining about lost work.

"Yep."

"Then go for it. They have the employee handbook, they know what's allowed and what isn't."

"Thanks. And don't worry, I'll leave your machine alone," Mike said with a grin.

"My machine? I haven't gone to any illicit sites in years!" he protested.

"That may be, but that's not the only thing against policy. That solitaire game you have minimized on your task bar is not allowed either."

"You better clean mine too, goodness knows I don't want to hear about being a hypocrite."

"You'll just play on your phone anyhow."

He laughed. "Exactly."

As Mike left his office, he picked up his phone to dial his wife. The phone rang the requisite four rings before he got her voicemail. "You've reached the desk of Rory Gilmore at the New York Times. Leave me your name and number and what you need, and I'll call you back as soon as I can. If that's not good enough, you can dial zero and ask for my assistant Amanda Hayes and try to have her track me down for you. Either way, have a great day and I'll talk to you soon." He hit zero instead of leaving a message.

"New York Times. How may I direct your call?" the operator answered.

"Yes Amanda Hayes please."

"Transferring." He was briefly subjected to some terrible hold music while he waited for Amanda to pick up the line.

"This is Amanda," she answered.

"Hi Amanda. Is my lovely wife in? I tried her desk directly but it went to voicemail."

"Hey Mr. Gilmore, " she teased him, recognizing his voice. "She left the office around 10:00 this morning and said she'd be out for the rest of the day. Try her mobile."

"Alright, thanks. Did she say if she was going out on a story?"

"Nope."

"Thanks Amanda, have a good day."

"You too."

He pressed the depressor to end the call, and then immediately dialed again. Her mobile rang twice, then her voicemail came on. Interesting. She must be interviewing someone for an article and forgotten to turn off her phone, because she never sent his calls to voicemail. "Hey it's Rory, leave me a message and I'll call you back." "Hey! I'm craving Thai food tonight. How about I stop and pick up some takeout on my way home? My 4:00 meeting was cancelled so I should be home around 5:30. Call me back and let me know how you feel about Thai. Love you."

He disconnected the call and went back to work.

Around two, when he finally took a break for lunch he realized his wife had never called him back, so he tried again. This time it rang once then went to voicemail. Odd. "Hey, it's me. Where are you? Is everything okay? Call me back."

Something was definitely wrong. If she had been in an interview when he'd called the first time she would have shut her phone off to prevent further disruptions. For some reason she was ignoring his calls. In the two years that'd they'd been married he could on one hand the number of times she'd been upset enough at him to ignore his calls. This had to be something serious, but he had no clue what it was.

He was going to go home and see if he could find out what was going on. "Maddy!" he called as he grabbed his jacket. "Reschedule my afternoon meetings, I have a family matter to attend to."

"Yes Sir," she replied. Maddy had only been with him for about a month, and she wasn't yet comfortable enough to question his requests or tell him no. On a day like to day, that was quality he truly appreciated.

He drove home as fast as he could without breaking any major laws or drawing any unwanted attention. The first thing he noticed was that her car wasn't in the garage. He pulled his Mercedes into its designated spot and headed into the house.

The first stop was the kitchen. There was no smell of fresh coffee brewing so she definitely wasn't home. As he turned to head towards the bedroom he caught a glimpse of a piece of paper tucked next to the coffee maker. He made his way over to inspect it and found it to be a note.

Dear Logan,

I really want to start this letter as 'by the time you read this I'll be gone', but even if it's true, it's a little too cliché. I'm leaving. Apparently I can't give you what you want, and you deserve to get everything you want out of life. I'm sorry. Don't worry, I won't fight you on a divorce, just send the papers to my mom's. I have to go. I wish things were different.

I love you always,

Rory

He stared at the letter in disbelief. What the fuck was going on? The paper was crinkled and the ink was blurred with tears. This didn't seem like an angry letter. What had happened to make Rory leave? He wracked his brain to think of anything that had happened recently. Nothing came to mind. What could he possibly want that wasn't with her?

He knew she hadn't found anything damning about him. She already knew it all. He wasn't cheating on her. He loved her far too much for that. And between the Bridesmaid debacle of '06, which he didn't really even consider to be cheating, and what her idiot of an ex-husband did to her, he knew she wouldn't cheat on him either.

And it most certainly couldn't be the same reason behind his first divorce...

Nine years earlier

It was about a year after Rory left before Logan decided to get back in the game. The driving force was finding out at his father's 50th birthday party that Rory had moved in with Jess. He'd spent the night mourning his loss with a bottle of scotch, and in the morning he'd finally given in to his mother's desire to set him up.

For the next year he dated society girl after society girl, and finally he was just tired of it. That was when he met Emory. She was a tall, thin, blonde, and over all a decent girl. She was smart enough that he didn't have to explain every joke to her. She was educated enough that she wouldn't embarrass him at business dinners. She was society enough that his parents would be happy. She was gorgeous, the sex was good, and they got along. He didn't love her, but he didn't really think she loved him either. He proposed and she accepted. It was a marriage of convenience. She got his status and he got his mother off his back. They'd live in Palo Alto. They'd visit his family two or three times a year, and in a few years they'd move back East and add a couple of branches to the Huntzberger family tree. They had a plan.

It wasn't that Logan desperately felt the need to be a father right away, he liked kids well enough, and he spoiled Honor's kids rotten, but he knew that he would want to be a father and that as the Huntzberger heir it was one of his two primary tasks. First, he was expected to continue to grow the Huntzberger Empire, and second, he was expected to produce heirs to continue the tradition. As much as Logan wanted to make it on his own, and have no part of HPG, he was fully aware that he'd eventually end up back there. Even though his family drove him nuts, he still couldn't completely turn his back on them, and part of him wanted there to be a next generation of Huntzbergers. If nothing else he'd like to prove to his father that it was possible to be successful in business and be a good father. Logan may not have loved his wife, but he would most certainly love his kids, and they would know it.

The first two years weren't so bad. He and Emory had fun together. He was a little disappointed when he learned that she intended to follow his mother's example of a society wife and spend her days shopping and lunching with the ladies, but he didn't expect her to work once they had kids, so really what was the big deal with a few more years. It's not like he couldn't afford to support them.

It was Logan's 29th birthday when things started to change. Two major things happened at once: the snooze button on his biological clock broke, and he and his partners decided to sell their business. Selling the business meant that play time was up. They'd created a successful business, and sold for a tidy profit, and now it was time for Logan to go back to HPG. He wasn't being forced, it was his own idea. Now he knew he could make it on his own, and he had that in his arsenal when negotiating with his father. But going back to HPG meant going back to society, and society meant living under a microscope and pressure to have kids. Surprisingly, Logan was ready. He was faithful to his wife, even if he didn't love her, and he wanted to have kids. Too bad Emory wasn't ready.

Since Logan had shared his desire to be a father, they'd all but stopped having sex. Because this occurred at the same time as their relocation, he figured it was the stress of moving. Emory was the one stuck with the task of finding a house in Connecticut and managing the movers while Logan wrapped up the business. Once they were settled in the new place, it would be better.

At first it was better. They christened every room in the new house. Sans protection. But then when Emory didn't get pregnant, things got tense. They were still having lots of sex, but it wasn't good sweaty fun, it was like work. But work you couldn't even talk about, because when Logan tried to discuss it, she shut down and accused him of blaming her for them not getting pregnant.

Month after month she tearfully told him she wasn't pregnant, and Logan would hold her as she cried, and try to reassure her, but after a while he started to get discouraged. After a year, he went in and had his swimmers tested, hoping that would give them some answers, and that it would be a way to open a conversation that didn't end in Emory crying about him blaming her for something he wasn't blaming her for, and locking herself in the bedroom. He hoped that by him going to the doctor first he could show that he wasn't blaming her, that he thought it might be him, but it backfired. Emory twisted it into a pretzel of him proving to her that it was all her fault. She'd stormed out of the house and not returned home for three days after that.

He knew she wouldn't leave him, they had an iron clad pre-nup, and the only way she got anything in a divorce was if a) he cheated on her or b) they had children which she was staying home to care for. Right now, she'd get nothing, and she was far too used to his lifestyle to leave with nothing.

She came home as he predicted, and he let the whole thing drop. It was another six months of trying and not talking about it before he finally learned what was going on.

Logan was home with the flu. He'd sent the staff home because he didn't want to get them sick, figuring he could make his own chicken soup without much trouble. On his second day at home he'd asked Emory to go to the store and pick up soup and soda crackers. For the first time in a while, she'd obliged him. Almost as soon as she left, the home phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered weakly.

"Is Mrs. Huntzberger home?"

"She's out at the moment, can I take a message?" He looked around for something to write on. He never answered this phone. The staff always answered it.

"Sure would you just remind her of her appointment with Dr. Kalani on Tuesday?"

A doctor's appointment? "Is my wife okay?" he asked.

"Of course sir, it's just a reminder for her quarterly Depo-Provera shot." Had she gone on fertility drugs without letting him know? He smiled at the thought.

"I'll remind her when she gets home," he said politely. He hung up the phone and pulled out his laptop to google Depo-Provera.

By the time Emory returned he was livid. He finally understood why she took everything as blame; it was her fault.

"Hey babe, I'm home. Are you feeling better?" she asked as she came into their bedroom. "I brought you a 7up to help settle your stomach."

He just stared at her.

"Logan, are you okay?"

"Dr. Kalani's office called to remind you about your appointment on Tuesday," he said coldly.

Her face fell, but she quickly recovered. "Oh good! I meant it to be a surprise, but I finally made an appointment with a fertility specialist to see if I could find out why we can't seem to conceive."

"Save it Emory."

"What are you talking about Logan?"

"The person that called told me what the appointment was for. I know you've been on birth control since we moved back to Hartford." Her face went pale. "Care to explain yourself?"

He watched her wheels turn as she tried to come up with a reasonable answer. "You don't love me Logan!" she exclaimed after a minute of silence. "I don't want to have children with someone that doesn't love me, is there something so wrong with that?"

"You don't love me either Emory," he reminded her.

"Yes I do Logan. I fell in love with you when we lived in Palo Alto. I was hoping you'd fall in love with me too." She started crying.

"So you were going to just stay on birth control until I fell in love with you, then try to get pregnant?"

She nodded.

"You don't think this bit of information would have been useful for me to have?" he asked angrily.

She stared at him, tears streaming down her face.

"Get out."

"But Logan," she started.

"GET OUT!"

"I can't help that I'm not Rory," she mumbled as she turned towards the closet to pack a bag.

"Excuse me? What did you say?"

She turned to face him. "It's not my fault I'm not Rory. It's not my fault you can't get over the past," she told him in a scathing tone.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about Emory," he spat bitterly. "I know you're not Rory. I don't want you to be Rory. I never wanted you to be Rory."

"Rory's the only person you ever loved," she told him as if it was something he didn't know.

"Yes. Loved. As in past tense. I'm not still in love with Rory. Hell, the only time I ever think about Rory is when someone else brings her up!"

"Well I'm tired of living in her shadow!" she yelled.

"Who said you were living in her shadow?" He'd never even so much as made a hint of a comparison between Emory and Rory.

"Everybody loved Rory!" she shouted.

Where was this coming from? "What are you talking about? Who is everybody? My parents hated Rory!"

"When ever I'm at the DAR lunches with your mother, all I hear about is all the great things Rory did. 'Remember this event that Rory planned?' 'Remember that event that Rory planned?'"

"So Rory's a member of the DAR, so what? She's been a member for years. And yes, she threw some lovely events, but that has nothing to do with me. Hell most of the time she was heavily involved in the DAR we weren't together!" Logan shouted back, as much as his voice would let him. "And really, how does anyone else's feelings about Rory have a thing to do with you?"

"Because they all love her, they hate me for being married to you!" she explained as fresh tears slid down her cheeks.

Logan sighed deeply. "Emory, you're just grasping at straws. Rory is happily married. Until about two hours ago, I thought I was happily married."

"You did?" she asked him incredulously.

He refused to answer her. "I want you to pack a bag and get out. You can call my secretary when you decide where to stay and leave her your address, I'll ship the rest of your stuff," he told her calmly.

"But Logan," she started.

"No. No buts. You've been lying to me for the last year and a half. I'm done. Please leave now."

She left, and Logan didn't look back. He quietly filed for divorce. Nothing stays quiet in society for long, but given the circumstances, he did the best he could.

He knew Rory would never do something like that to him. Mainly because he knew she couldn't ever be that intentionally cruel, but also because she wanted kids just as much as he did. Something else must be wrong, he had to find his wife.

AN: Here's chapter two. I still don't own anything (except maybe Logan's ex wife Emory). I intend this to switch back and forth between Rory's POV and Logan's POV, trying not to overlap too much.

I know lots of people are not huge Rogan fans... but here's the truth, I didn't want to invent a character to be Rory's second husband, and given my other choices of guys from Rory's past, Logan was the one that fit the story the best.

Here's my plan: I'm going to try to update weekly. To encourage reviews, I'm going to borrow an idea from some of the SVM writers... reviewers will get a snippet of the next chapter, if they so desire. (I would like the review to consist of more than "send me snippet please") I'm also hoping this will encourage me to keep writing.

So, let me have it. Do you like it? Do you loathe it? Is it far too predictable?

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

S