A/N: I've had to split Fall into 2 chapters as my commentary was running far too long. I'll get part B up as soon as I can, hopefully just a few days.

Your reviews and messages are as always, so wonderful - thank you.

Chapter title from 'The Story of Us' by Taylor Swift – I know, I have a TS lyric substance problem; but my lord these lyrics are all I can hear during the suffocating silences between them in AYITL.

Part 9

i've never heard silence quite this loud

She wore a different red dress, they drank champagne in a different basement club and they spent the night in a very different hotel room; and what started in Hamburg was apparently going to finish in a rollicking tour up the I-91 2 years later.

Logan averts his eyes away from the bathroom mirror, unwilling to acknowledge the despondency in his own reflection; and he can hear Rory dressing in the adjoining bedroom, gathering her clothes from where they had been scattered in desperation and need just hours earlier.

It was a perfect night

On the surface, those words could sound positive, optimistic, happy. But her tone sounded so defeated, so final. He can't quite read her (he can, he just doesn't want to believe what it means), and he doesn't know where to go from here, if there's anything to salvage.

He's missed his chance (he's missed a million chances). He did this all wrong, he thought a Life and Death Brigade adventure would relight the fire he knows is inside of her, but in the harsh light of the morning, her spark is extinguished again.

He thinks about how he could have (should have) done this differently. He remembers sitting in the tango club the night before, their eyes desperately searching the others as he was overwhelmed by the silence between them. The silence he triggered.

That's the dynastic plan

It was a guarded, but not untruthful answer to her question. He expected her to respond, he wanted her to have something to say, something to ask of him. But instead his caution was rewarded with indifference.

He thinks about what he could have said – "not if you don't want me to"; "of course not, I want to marry you"; "tell me not to marry her" …

Tell me not to go

He remembers his pleas for her to save him falling on deaf ears years ago. She didn't say it then, back when they were young and in love and had their whole lives ahead of them. It's not her place, not her responsibility, to give him a reason to escape now either.

He never intended to be this pitiful, but just as he has clung to any part of her that she's allowed him to these past 2 years, he'll savour every last minute he has of her this morning.

But then they're downstairs surrounded by their friends; and she declares that she's leaving on her own. He's not even going to get the extra few minutes he thought he'd get.

Much like their implicit agreement to not mention his proposal or their break-up, or to never mutter the words 'I love you', it was as if they were both agreeing to not say 'goodbye' though it was clear to him now that this is what this was.

Maybe it's for the best, he tries to convince himself. Don't people always say that if you love something set it free?

Logan has always thought that was a ridiculous adage – if you love something you damn well treat it right and hold on to it, nurture it. Not that he's been following that particular philosophy well lately.

Instead, there's been denial (of how deeply he's in love with her) and fear (of rejection, of not being good enough. Still.). It's been cumulative; growing and compounding every time he hasn't told her how he really feels, or exactly how much he's missed her, how much he wishes he could get a do-over. It was always leading him here. And here is apparently where it's going to end.

He hopes it will make a nice chapter in her book.

He assumes that Rory will continue her rootless life without him, he's been holding her back these past couple of years and it's not fair. She doesn't want anything he has to offer her in the long term and he needs to back away. Even if she did want him - she doesn't want the society life, she doesn't want to be a Huntzberger.

So she doesn't want him, couldn't want him. After all – money, society, Huntzberger; isn't that all he is?

He doesn't know how he does it. How he forces himself to turn and walk away from her, without saying it.

I love you.

The only words that really need to be said. The only ones that will be of any significance at this point. He feels them hanging in the air between them though and he hopes with everything in him that she does too.

His parting words are instead unspoken, like so much else has been, and he leaves her with a sad smile and a corny mental picture frame to remember him by. He smiles wistfully as it reminds him of that particularly romantic episode of his favourite comedy and he wonders if she'll make the same connection. He never did manage to convince her that the US Office was superior to the British version. She's always been a classicist.

He pauses to take a few breaths and get his game face on before he enters the diner; he is so not ready to break down about this and definitely not here, in front of his friends and a couple of dozen strangers eating breakfast.

Not when there's even the smallest of chances that she might change her mind, come back and follow him through the door.

He slides into the booth where the guys are sat and flags the waitress down to order coffee. He definitely needs to eat but he knows categorically that if any food makes its way past his lips, he'll vomit.

He remembers this all-consuming feeling of being crushed; it's been 9 years (well 9 years, 4 months and 5 days but who's counting?) but it's come back to him as if no time has passed. The overwhelming and persistent nausea relented after a few weeks then, maybe it'll be sooner this time.

For a few minutes no one says a word; the three men glancing between themselves and Logan as he stares into his cup.

"So that didn't work out as brilliantly as we'd hoped huh?" Finn quips as he pushes away his empty plate and leans back with his hands behind his head.

Logan responds with a look so cold it could freeze hell over.

"Don't give me that face. So we come up with a new plan, now we're not as drunk."

"No." Logan asserts.

"You try again, you get her back." Finn continues.

"No." Logan repeats, sterner.

Robert reads the mood and excuses himself to the bathroom. The waitress returns to refill their coffees and the men all nod politely towards her.

"So are you guys going back to being just friends, for real this time?" Colin prods as they are left alone again.

"No, I think we're going back to being nothing." Logan relents to the questioning. If there's one thing he's pretty sure he and Rory have never just been, it's friends.

"This is fucking ridiculous!" Finn exclaims. "We didn't come here for this, for you to be depressed. For you guys to be over. Why can't Mom and Dad just work it out?"

"No, we came because Rory needing buoying up, to be around friends."

"Yeah, you know that none of us believed that right? We assumed that tonight was supposed to be you guys getting back together for good. Robert got ordained online for this."

Logan can't help it, he laughs. He's not remotely joyful, but the fact that his friends have more faith in his and Rory's relationship than either of them, amuses him greatly at this particular moment.

"That's never what this was going to be. She likes what we have - fun, adventure, reliving the old days. That's what I am to her."

I've never been bored with you

Her words ring in his ears again. Fucking hell. Is he going to be tortured with snapshots of their last night together until the end of time?!

Finn shakes his head in disbelief.

"Logan, I've been there with you when she calls - she's freaking out and she needs you to calm her down; she's upset and wants you to make her feel better - and you drop everything to speak to her. And the way she looks at you … you are so not just a guy for fun for her".

"Look, you want me to admit it? Fine. It was a bad idea from the beginning. You guys told me so, you were right. Now it's over. There's nothing left to say."

"Do you want to chip in here mate?" Finn turns to Colin.

"If she's said it's over, then let it be over." Colin inserts, decidedly more pragmatic.

Finn throws his hands in the air in frustration. "How is that helpful?!"

"You don't have to be with Odette but there are millions of women you could be with instead.

"This is coming from a purely platonic, hetero place of appreciation for you – you're Logan Huntzberger, you can have anyone. Stop going after the one girl who doesn't actually want to be with you."

"But she does want to be with you, it's obvious." Finn insists.

"Then where is she?" Colin retorts.

He sees the pained look in Logan's eyes.

"Sorry."

Colin is Logan's oldest friend but never the most sensitive when it comes to emotional support. Finn can be surprisingly insightful if you catch him on a good day and the correct drunk/sober balance. They're trying to help, they really are, and Logan appreciates it.

"Don't be. You're right." Logan attempts to shrug off their concerns as best he can. "You can both stop looking at me like that. I'm not on suicide watch. I'll be fine."

Robert rejoins them, having decided that the overly emotional section of the morning was likely completed and Logan is grateful when he steers the conversation away from his humiliatingly obvious heartbreak.

He vows to maintain his composure until he is alone. They drop him at the airport and as he boards the private plane he's relieved for the solitude the non-commercial flight allows him.

He quickly downs a couple of drinks, anticipating an emotional offload, almost wishing he could cry, to let it all out, but nothing comes.

If he thought he'd been sleepwalking through these last few years; working on autopilot, gradually succumbing to his father's plans for him, hiding behind 'arrangements' in place of real relationships, not being totally honest with Rory (or Odette, or himself); then this must be a whole other level.

Now he's paused, stunted, muted. He thinks he might actually be really broken this time.

It takes all of Rory's self-control for her to hold it together as they say goodbye – except it's not goodbye at all, it can't be, because they're worth more than this. More than unsaid words and lame attempts to keep the tone light (Mr Toad's ride?). If she was ever meant to have an epic goodbye with anyone it was with him, and this, even with the dress-up and impromptu rooftop golf, this just doesn't cut it.

There are still too many things left to say, too many things they have left to do.

So much more that they should have had.

It's that realization of utter despair that breaks her after she watches him leave.

Just like that.

Those words are going to haunt her for the rest of her days, she's sure of it. Just like what exactly?

Just like pain and fear and regret? That's not how she wants him to remember her.

She doesn't want him to have to remember her at all.

But, she's convinced herself to walk away and it's taken everything in her to follow through with it this morning.

She'd fought off sleep as long as she could the night before, trying to commit the feeling of being in his arms to memory, knowing what she had to do once morning arrived.

She needs to let him have his impeccable society wife by his side in London, with the career and life that he has built beautifully. Someone who will know how to be a success, and who won't hesitate at every turn.

Rory is one who hesitates; it's who she is. She's a pro/con list maker. She thinks things through (or she used to anyway). Logan is the more impulsive one, more fearless. It's just who they are. And she can't change who they are.

She wouldn't want to even if she could.

She's decided. She needs to let him go.

It's goodbye. Forever. She told him so. (She didn't actually but he seemed to pick up on it anyway.)

Except. It can't be goodbye forever.

Even though she's telling herself that she'll stay away, that she won't think of him, won't contact him; she knows it's a lie.

If there's one thing she'll never be strong enough to do, it's say goodbye to Logan forever.

(There's that hesitation again.)

But she's got to at least try.

She makes it into the Uber she'd booked and everything inside is unleashed. The driver checks on her too many times to count and she insists that she is okay, she's just going to have to cry for a bit.

And she does. She tells herself that if she lets it out that she'll feel better, the tears will dry up and she'll be done.

She doesn't stop until they're nearly in Stars Hollow and she wipes her face dry when she arrives at Lane's home. She's going to ask her grandmother if she can stay at the house, but first she needs a shower, a rental car and to pack up yet more of her things and move them around some more.

She cries every day for a while, alone in her grandparents' house, she tells herself it's cathartic and that it will end soon. She tells herself that it's not all about Logan and that some of the tears are due to her mom (they're not, she knows that they'll reconcile once they've both calmed down) or that they're owed to the demise of her career (but that's not true either). They're all for Logan. And she hates every goddamn drop.

She's searching in the back of a closet in her grandmother's guest bedroom, looking for her nude heels, and it occurs to her – they're at Logan's. She still has at least 3 large packing boxes worth of stuff at his home (she has no idea if/how he hides them from Odette).

She wonders if he has been waiting for her to ask for them, holding out for contact from her. She wonders if he still will, if it is the last remaining link she could utilise if she wanted to.

A week later, without prompting, the boxes arrive at Lane's and though she doesn't want to be, she's disappointed when she opens them to find her belongings and nothing more.

No secret gift, letter, photograph, or post-it note declaring his love for her or with a coded message that only the two of them would understand. He's closing the door. This time they really are done.

The sobbing begins again in earnest.

She knew he would end up having to decide whether or not to legitimise his quasi-engagement, and he must have done by now.

She's mostly devastated to think of him settled, married, and happy with anybody else but there is a small, genuine, selfless part of her that wants him to be happy, regardless of the cost to herself. She supposes that to be the 'true love' part.

But secretly and selfishly (and really, truly honestly), what she really wants is for him to be happy with her.

Logan stares at the laptop in front of him, attempting to read the opening paragraph of an article for the third time. Try as he might, he could not absorb any information this evening. He glances at the date at the top of his screen again – Rory's birthday.

Obviously she's been on his mind since they'd parted ways in New Hampshire a couple of weeks prior, and much like during their break over the summer, Logan desperately wants to call her. They haven't gone this long without being in contact since they met again in Hamburg. It doesn't feel right, doesn't feel natural, to not speak to her.

But today, he's struggling to think of anything but Rory. He can't believe it was 2 years ago, when she called him drunk and horny from her 30th birthday party. And was it really a whole year since he flew to where she was working in DC for a 4-hour visit so he could surprise her with a birthday meal?

He's drafted countless messages but resisted the urge to send them to her. She's made her feelings clear and he has to respect that.

The clinking of glass on glass brings him back to reality as the beautiful brunette sat on the other side of the kitchen island refills her wine. She gestures to him and he nods gratefully for her to top up his drink too.

Odette goes back to her screens, her attention flitting between her phone and tablet and Logan ponders how this interesting, fun, gorgeous woman who he is living with and supposedly betrothed to, is somehow a nonentity in his mind.

Their relationship was good once; it worked. They were friendly, sometimes more than friendly, but with very little upset or drama as the depth of feelings required for that just wasn't there. But since their engagement and her subsequent moving in, they didn't look at each other in the same way anymore.

(He knows that for him, he's been preoccupied with Rory, but it's more than that.)

They're no longer the ones putting on a show, fooling their parents and their wider social circle, pretending to be a couple (occasionally being a real couple) in order to keep the peace whilst laughing behind closed doors as to how their families lapped it up. It had all become very serious now, very real, and yet the façade was so clear to them both that it couldn't possibly be.

"So, I take it you and your girl split up?" Odette breaks the silence between them.

Logan snaps his eyes up to meet hers, a look of semi-shock adorning his face. Though they both knew that they had seen people outside of their relationship, they never verbalised it to each other.

"I'm sorry." Is all he can think to say.

"So …"

"Yeah, it's over now." Logan tries to bite back the regret in his voice.

"I figured as much. You've been pretty miserable lately. Who is she?"

Logan sighs; he really does not want to talk about this. Actually, he is desperate to talk about this, but just not with the woman sitting across from him.

"My ex-girlfriend, from Yale. We were together for quite a while back then. And then for a while again recently." He closes his eyes in shame, but he owes her the truth.

"I remember hearing about her, you guys were serious."

"Yeah."

"You proposed."

"I did."

"She said 'no'."

"She did." He takes a breath. "I'm sorry," he repeats.

"Don't be. We both came into this with eyes wide open. To be honest with you, I didn't think we were going to get this far. I thought we could bluff our parents, get them to complete their acquisitions without actually going through with the 'merging of the dynasties' plan." Odette laughs but there is sadness in her eyes.

"But … my father's stubborn and old-fashioned. He wants me married off, he wants his estate protected. Heaven forbid a single woman inherits the family fortune."

Logan nods in understanding. "I think my father thinks if he just keeps repeating how important marriage, and heirs, and respectability, and the proper order of things are to me then I'll start to believe it. Hell, maybe I already have started, I don't know.

"He'll drill into me about my responsibilities to the family, the legacy, and how I'm letting them all down and I feel like a kid again. Just that stupid, reckless kid being reprimanded over and over for one stupid stunt or another. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I deserved it. I could be a piece of work, probably still can."

He smirks and Odette smiles at him.

"But he just couldn't see that I kept screwing up because even when I did exactly what I was told, behaved exactly as was expected of me – it wasn't enough. Still isn't."

He takes a gulp of wine.

"I do my job to the absolute best of my ability, the European division runs like clockwork, I oversee everything, the online media division is the only one making significant profits, because of me. I still get articles published regularly under my pseudonym. I attend as many benefits and galas as I can and network like a pro. … I'm the working stiff he always trained me to be."

He drains his glass and pours another drink for them both.

"Sometimes I don't recognise myself any more, what I've become. But some things never change, regardless of how screwed up they all are, I don't want to let my family down. I've done nothing but disappoint them my whole life but I keep trying to undo it all, just to try and make them proud. It'll never happen though. I'm a masochist."

He tries to laugh it off but he hates being the family disappointment.

"You're not the only one. What kind of idiots in this day and age agree to get married when they don't want to? How did we even get here?"

She groans at her rhetorical question. They both know how they got here – arrogance and avoidance. Ignore the problem for long enough, it'll surely go away right?

Logan steels himself for where he's sure this conversation is heading. Time to stop shirking away from reality.

"You know that my father would complete this deal, without us getting married? He wants a stronger foothold in the European market and your father's broadcasting corporation is an easy way to do that. Having us get married and me looking like a more respectable, conservative, future CEO is just a bonus for him."

Odette shakes her head. "Papa's traditional. Unlike everyone else who agrees it's a terrible way to work, he actually likes combining family and business. 'Unbreakable ties' is how he puts it."

She sighs. "Doesn't matter if I want to be a part of those ties. Sometimes I think I'm just a thoroughbred to him."

Logan surveys Odette and the tears forming in her eyes and feels like an incomparable asshole. She feels as trapped as he does, probably more so. He has his job at least, one he knows he won't be forced out of; he's too valuable.

"I'll make the purchase happen. We'll have to pay a little more than my father would prefer and I'll probably have to do some things I don't ideally want to do, but … if I put all my energy into it, I'll make it work."

"Isn't that what you've already been trying to do?"

"I've been distracted. Work hasn't had my full attention." He admits.

"It'll be …" he searches for the most fitting word, " … uncomfortable. Probably for both of us. But I can get us out of this. If you want."

Odette takes a breath and raps her fingertips on the counter.

"My family will not be happy if we call this off now, after all this time. Maman's ready to set the date and choose the invitations herself. And Papa was serious when he sold my apartment, he won't welcome me back willingly."

"I can buy you a new apartment if you can't access your trust fund. You can go back home to Paris. Get your job back. Or set up a new charity, whatever you want."

"Really?"

"I'm offering houses up like they're going out of style lately, it'd be nice if someone accepted one."

Odette raises an eyebrow. "I don't really want to know what you're talking about, do I?"

Logan winces, he can't disagree. Offering the Maine house hadn't been his smoothest move but he's a desperate man and if there was ever a need for desperate measures, that was it.

Odette sighs audibly and fiddles with her oversized engagement ring.

"This has gone on about as long as it can do, hasn't it?"

Logan smiles weakly in response. "I'm surprised we've let it go on this long. This isn't how I imagined getting married."

Without meaning to, his mind flickers to what he has imagined marriage to be like – a shared study; the framed Yale Daily News front page on the wall; him proofing Rory's already rigorous work; her correcting his; her dragging him away from his computer to refuel with coffee and baked goods from the kitchen.

Odette speaks, bringing him back to the real world. "I'm not sure if I ever want to get married but I do know that I don't want to be with somebody, even the way we are, who'd rather be with somebody else."

He opens his mouth to interject.

"Don't try and deny it. It's written all over your face. If us deciding to go along with getting engaged was a ridiculous idea, then you choosing to have an affair with your ex was an even worse one."

Logan stares at the ring that she removes from her finger and places in his hand.

So that's two engagements rings gifted. Two returned. Not the best odds.

"This doesn't get any more enjoyable the more this happens to me."

Despite it all, Odette can't find it in her to feel anything other than compassion for him.

She gently strokes him arm and smiles warmly at him. "You'll be okay. You'll find someone else. Or your mother will find someone for you."

Logan chuckles.

"Well as long as I've got that to look forward to."

He helps Odette move out, packing up her belongings for her return to Paris. It doesn't take them long, she never did bring more than the initial suitcases she descended on him with in the middle of the night. This was always temporary, despite the contradictory diamond on her left hand.

He sees Rory's boxes in the back of the closet. He's done nothing more than given them a cursory glance every time he's spotted them recently. He told himself that if she wanted them, she could contact him and ask and it would open up the dialogue between them again.

He weighs up his options for a minute before he drags them out. It's not fair for him to hold her things to ransom. He seals the boxes securely and posts them to her before he talks himself out of it.

Time to start moving on.