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The following fortnight went by in a flash. Arrangements were made, phonecalls were placed and Logan found an apartment in Hartford. Their own apartment would be rented out to a friend of Logan's, allowing flexibility over when and if they would move back. Six months was still the contract but there was a possibility that they would stay.

Rory wondered, during these fraught weeks, if she should feel sad that they were moving. She had lived in California for two years, the only state she had lived in while married to Logan, yet it had never felt like home. She had no family, no job and no friends to call her own. There had been people at work she had felt fond with, ate lunch with now and then and talked about meeting up outside work. Rory had lost her job and with it her friendship. Somehow the coffee they had planned on never came to pass and Rory was solitary once more.

In a lot of ways this didn't matter. Rory had never enjoyed spending time in large groups yet, as the only time spent away from the apartment was through walking or shopping, she began to miss company. Rory missed having someone just to sit down and talk to and she found herself surfing the net, seeing if there were any people out there in a similar frame of mind.

It appeared that there weren't. There were several groups for mothers and wives, most of whom hoping to become the former, but there didn't seem to be any for young women who were just out of college and unsure of their lives. Rory joined a site made up of women in their twenties but after a few tentative posts she sensed that she didn't fit in. Most were either beginning careers or marriage and, when Rory remarked that she felt a little lonely in her role as wife she received replies which were either dismissive or of a rather crude nature. Rory logged off and decided that net wasn't the place for her.

There were Logan's friends, of course, or rather their wives. Every few months Logan would throw a cocktail party, or they would be guests, and after the general mingling the room would settle into two halves, women on one and men on another. It reminded Rory of a Jane Austen novel and, as she would sip her martini, she wished she had Emma Woodhouse or Elizabeth Bennet for company instead of her fellow guests. One evening, several hours in with drinks to match, the party was starting to die. Rory glanced over at Logan, who was making shoptalk with his friends, and stared back down at her drink. She had deliberately made it strong but it was too bitter to drink.

"Rory?"

Rory jumped and a peal of laughter broke out. She looked up and saw Tania, who was married to a man in Logan's office, grinning at her. All the other women were giggling into their drinks, reminding Rory, inexplicably, of study hall afternoons at Stars Hollow High.

"We were telling each other how we lost our virginity," Tania said wickedly, glancing back at the group. "Seeing who has the best story."

"Oh," Rory said awkwardly. She looked back down at her drink, knowing the hint wouldn't be taken.

"Come on Mrs Huntzberger," Tania needled. "You don't get a pass, we've all shared. It's your turn!"

Rory didn't bother correcting her on the name. She stared for a moment at the green sheen of her dress before saying shortly,

"It was with my first boyfriend."

"That's so sweet!" Tania exclaimed. "With your high school sweetheart? I take it he wasn't Logan."

The group erupted into giggles again and Rory said,

"No – well, he was my high school sweetheart, but I wasn't in high school."

She didn't know why she was explaining. She didn't want to tell them this, share her story, but she found herself adding,

"I was nineteen and his name was Dean."

"Of course it wasn't Logan!" a woman named Mara exclaimed. "As if he was ever a high school sweetheart! That's cute. Did you want to wait until you were in college?"

"No," Rory said, her cheeks hot. "We broke up for a while and I was with someone else."

"Someone else?" Tania echoed. "Who?"

"A guy called Jess," Rory said uncomfortably. "I liked him a lot but no one else did...he left without telling me and I ended up with Dean again."

"Sounds kind of unreliable," someone named Kim remarked. "Was Dean steady?"

"I guess." Rory's cheeks felt hot and she looked down at her drink again.

"So how did it happen?" Tania asked bossily. "Was it in your dorm? How was it? Was it awful? You know, mine was the worst."

"It was in my bedroom at home," Rory said, gripping the glass. "He came over and it just...sort of happened. It wasn't terrible but it wasn't great."

"No one's first time is great," Mara said wickedly. "Still, it's kind of romantic that it was with your first love. Did you love him?"

"I did," Rory said honestly. She looked at the laughing woman beside her, thinking back to that night, and how she hadn't been his sweetheart any longer and how really they weren't in love, but she didn't tell them any of it. She wondered what they would say if she added that he had been married to someone other than her, that after it had happened she had run outside crying and wished it was all different, but decided to keep it to herself.

"It sounds like you lost yours in the perfect way, Rory," Kim said, in a voice which patronised fondly. "Not like mine. I was sixteen and did it to impress a guy."

"I was twenty-one and did it to impress a friend."

"I did it because I was bored."

"How much does a first time matter?" Rory mused out loud. "It's still sex after all."

They turned to her in surprise and she felt her cheeks go red, picked up her drink and swallowed it in one.

Cocktail parties were not her favourite but they did break monotony. Rory felt suffocated in the apartment. After the fiasco of the internet group she searched for local groups in her area, not entirely sure what she was looking for. As she expected, most of these were coffee mornings for mothers, but she did go to a morning for people who were new to the area. It was not enjoyable. Rory sipped coffee with people who were enthusiastic about hiking, knitting and scrapbooking and silently counted the minutes until she could go home. It was the Puffs all over again. Chilton had taught her that she and socialising were a poor mix and Rory let out a sigh of relief when she picked up her purse to go. It wasn't that she wanted a large group of friends, she thought, it was that she just needed one. She missed her mother, she missed Lane, she missed Paris and her biting wit but the only friend she had here was Logan and he was never home. Rory called them, sometimes, her old friends, but Lane was busy with motherhood and Paris with medicine and it felt that they were humouring her at times while she relayed her lack of news.

Soon she would see them all again. Rory had called Lane the week before, who had shrieked with excitement, and Paris, who had said they should catch up sometime. Paris didn't go for shrieking and Rory smiled to herself as she packed up boxes. She couldn't wait to see her and hear her blunt tone though Rory wasn't sure that she would come away unscathed. Paris always had interesting news to tell her – fascinating projects to work on and making breakthrough research – and all she would have to say was that she had found a new route to the beach or had a disaster baking. She could almost hear the disapproval in Paris's silence but she merely said that the West Coast sounded less exciting than Stars Hollow, which was no mean feat. Rory would laugh and change the subject but sometimes she wanted to keep Paris on the phone, ask what she really thought and why she was holding back. She wondered if there was something she was missing.

Logan was a lot less excited. He let Rory pack his things, claiming to be beat from the office and coming home extremely late. Dinner would be spoiled but Rory didn't care. She was leaving, going home, bidding farewell to this state which seemed so stale and would soon see her mother again. She wanted to see Lorelai much more than Paris and had even talked Logan into staying at her house until the apartment was ready a week later. Logan had sighed, acquiesced and smiled at her and Rory had hugged him tightly, feeling a fierce rush of love. The move meant more than just going back to Rory and, even though they were retracing their steps, going back where they started, it seemed to Rory they were heading somewhere new and exotic.

"Your ways are lost on me," Logan teased. "Have you forgotten what it's like in Connecticut?"

Despite his unhappiness at having to move Logan seemed a lot more cheerful during the last week before they moved. He said it was good to see Rory how she used to be and, as she was so elated at it being a matter of days before going home, she didn't stop, sit down and ask her husband what he meant and how she seemed different. Rory looked in the mirror that night as she removed her makeup and wondered what Logan was trying to say. Was she different since they had left Connecticut? She had grown up, she supposed, but not so much since their wedding. She frowned at the mirror, her face bare, and she felt for a moment that she was looking at her young, inquisitive self of sixteen. She felt scared, suddenly, and bent down to splash water over her skin. When she glanced back up she looked like herself again.

It was time to go. They locked the apartment door and pocketed the keys: there was a spare set for the friend. Rory picked up her purse and looked over the wall at the avocado tree. Though she hadn't eaten from it for months she felt sad to leave it, it had been the thing she liked most at their new home. Last night, when Logan was sleeping, she had snuck out and eaten from it one last time. The fruit had tasted old in her mouth, almost sorrowful, and Rory felt tearful as she tiptoed back to bed. She hoped it would prosper alone.

They didn't talk much on the way to the airport. Logan played music from an approved selection (he disliked most of Rory and Lorelai's taste) and whistled under his breath, tapping his fingers on the wheel. It was a trait which annoyed Rory but today she didn't care. She leaned out of the window and called out farewells to everything as they passed.

"Could you quit doing that?" Logan asked eventually. "It's so annoying."

"Not like you whistling out of tune."

Logan shook his head and Rory called,

"Goodbye, town!"as they reached the freeway and Logan rolled his eyes, pulling her back down into her seat.

"God," he snapped. "You're like a five-year-old."

Rory was so happy she didn't care. She called her mother as Logan negotiated the road and soon they were at the airport and ready to board. They got into their seats, listened to the safety warnings and turned their electrics off. Rory smiled as they began to ascend. She reached for Logan's hand but it was clenched in his lap, his eyes shut and he was leaning away from her. Rory smiled, exhaled and closed her eyes too. It was time to go home.