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Logan came into the hotel room an hour later. Rory was sitting on the bed but she stood up as he came in.

"You deserved more than a note."

"What are you talking about?" Logan asked. "What's going on? I turn around and you aren't there and some waiter's tapping me on the shoulder saying you'd gone back to the hotel."

"I didn't want to worry you."

"I wasn't worried, I figured you had a headache or something," Logan said. He stopped as he took in the scene, Rory's suitcase packed on the bed and he frowned.

"What's going on?"

"Logan, I have to go," Rory said. "I can't do this anymore."

"Can't do what, what are you talking about?"

"This!" Rory exclaimed. "Us, being married, Logan I can't – I don't want to do this anymore. I can't do this anymore. It's over."

Logan stared and then shook his head, laughing.

"You don't mean that," he said. His voice was light but there was an angry tone as he said, "You're trying to punish me. You haven't forgiven me."

"Logan, I'm not trying to punish you," Rory said desperately. "And I did try to forgive you, but there's no point."

"No point? I told you it was over."

"Logan, look me in the eye and promise you'll never cheat on me again."

Logan looked at her and hesitated.

"Rory, you know I love you."

"You know, it doesn't even matter," Rory said, shaking her head. "Maybe you never will, it's not why this is over."

"What are you saying?" Logan asked, sounding serious. "You want a divorce? Whatever you're doing, forget it. Just unpack your suitcase and have a drink."

"That's not going to solve this, Logan."

"Come on, Rory!" Logan exploded. "This is crazy!"

"Logan, you introduced me as Rory Huntzberger!"

"So?" Logan asked, bemused. "You're my wife."

"So I'm not Rory Huntzberger! I kept my name. You knew it was important to me."

"Rory, what is the big deal?" Logan exclaimed. "It was easier to introduce you that way. You're my wife, most women take their husband's names!"

"I'm not those women!"

"Rory, I had to look good for that manager," Logan said irritably. "It looked good if I came with my wife and it was easier to say that than explain why you had a different name. I don't get why you're this mad."

"Exactly. You don't."

Logan stared at her for a moment and threw his hands up.

"You're divorcing me over a name?"

"No, I'm not," Rory said in frustration. "It's more than that Logan, it's...it's us. We aren't right for each other anymore."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Logan said stubbornly. Rory shook her head and said,

" Logan, I can't go to California with you."

"What?"

"I can't," Rory said. "And that's how I know this is over. If it wasn't, we could figure something out. It would never be a home but it wouldn't matter because you'd be with me. All I can think about is how much I don't want to go. I can't go back, Logan. I can't go back there."

Logan stared at her blindly for a moment and then said,

"Okay. You don't want to go back, that's okay, Ace. Take as much time as you need. Stay out here a little longer and you'll move back when you're ready."

"Logan, you aren't listening! I'm never going to be ready! I don't want to be ready, I don't want to go back! I can't go back!"

"Rory, I have to take this! I can't stay in Connecticut because you don't want to go back!"

"Logan, it doesn't matter!" Rory cried. "It doesn't matter if you stay or leave, I can't do this!"

"What can't you do?" Logan asked, breathing heavily and Rory said quietly,

"This marriage."

Logan stared at her and shook his head.

"No. You're just upset."

"Logan, I'm not just upset!" Rory said, her voice shaking. "I was going to wait until after Boston but I can't do this. I can't stay here all week pretending, I feel like I'm living a lie. I thought we could just separate, but –"

"But what?" Logan asked sharply. "I get a say in this too, Rory! There's two people in this marriage!"

"You didn't seem to care so much about that when you were sleeping with someone else!" Rory snapped. He fell silent and Rory added more gently,

"But it's not that, Logan. I don't love you like I did when you married me. If I did, I could go to California with you. I might not be happy about it but I'd want to be with you, wherever you were, and we could figure something out. We can't figure this out. Logan, I'm so unhappy. I've been unhappy for so long and you can't see it. We made a mistake. We got married too young."

"No, we didn't," Logan snapped. "We made each other happy, we love each other. Don't say it didn't mean anything!"

"It did mean something," Rory said. "But we don't make each other happy anymore. We don't love each other anymore."

"Yes, we do! I know you still love me and I love you!"

Logan sounded like he was about to cry and Rory bit her lip.

"What is it you want me to do?" he asked, his voice wobbling. "Do you want me to spend more time with you, take you somewhere? Do you want me to get you a job?"

"Logan –"

"You said you wanted a job, I'll make you a job. It'll be like the old times, at the Yale Daily News. It can be how it used to be."

Rory smiled sadly as Logan added,

"And you can see John or Jack or whatever his name was, I swear I won't get mad. I'm not crazy about him but – is it him? Is it because you love him?"

"It's not because I love Jess," Rory said, struck. "Logan, a job and spending more time together isn't going to fix this. We can't fix this, we've changed too much. What we had is gone."

"No!" Logan said loudly. "It's not over unless I say it's over and I say it's not over, damnit!"

"Logan, you had an affair and I have to tell myself I love you," Rory said. "What kind of a marriage is it where you want to sleep with someone else and I have to remind myself that I love you? That I don't just know I do?"

Logan stared and Rory added,

"And I can't be with you anymore. I can barely lie in a bed with you. It feels wrong when you kiss me and I can't remember when I last enjoyed sex with you, really wanted you to kiss and touch me."

"You're angry with me," Logan said a low voice. "We'll get through it, we always do."

"No Logan, we won't get through it! There's nothing to get through!"

Logan was silent and then said firmly,

"This is because we went back here, it screwed everything up."

"Logan –"

"You got reminded of everything and now you don't want to go back home."

"Logan, listen to me!" Rory exclaimed. "It's not home! San Francisco never felt like home and this started way before we moved! It doesn't matter where we live, it's us! It's done, we're over!"

Logan's blue eyes looked suddenly brighter, filled with moisture and Rory took his hands.

"Do you remember, all those years ago, when you told me to jump?" she asked earnestly. He nodded and she went on, "I need to jump, Logan. I need to figure things out and I need to do it on my own. I've never been on my own."

"You had me," Logan said, his voice cracking, and Rory nodded.

"I did, once. We don't have each other anymore and that started years before tonight."

Logan didn't say anything. Rory let go of his hands, slipped off her ring and handed it to him.

"Thank you for giving to me," she said. "And thank you for asking me to marry you."

Logan held it dumbly and Rory picked up her suitcase. She kissed his cheek, slid on her jacket and stepped into her shoes. She had her hand on the door when Logan shouted,

"Wait!"

Rory turned and he said,

"Wait! Rory, please don't go. Don't go."

Rory saw he was crying and she felt a horrible guilt as he walked over to her, holding her ring out.

"Take it back," he sobbed. "You're my wife, you married me. You're my wife."

"Logan, stop," Rory said, twisting the door open. "I have to go. I have to leave right now."

"Where are you going?" Logan demanded. "Who do you know in Boston? You can't just leave."

"I called Paris," Rory said. "She's waiting outside. Logan, I'm sorry. I have to go."

Logan stepped away and Rory made her way to the elevator, the case heavy in her hand. She looked back only as she stepped through the doors and Logan's eyes were staring, streaming with tears as she disappeared.

Paris was waiting with the car as Rory appeared.

"Hey," she said. "You okay?"

"No," Rory said, breathing heavily. "No, I don't think I am."

Paris looked at her and said in a way which was almost gentle,

"Let's get your stuff in here and the hell out of here, what do you say?"

"I say that sounds good," Rory sniffled. "That sounds great."

Paris opened the car, Rory put her case in the back and sat in front, buckling up. Paris looked at her now and then but didn't ask anything and Rory stared out of the window, her mind lost on the life she'd left behind.

Twenty minutes later Rory and Paris were sitting on the couch, containers of takeout around them. Rory had just finished telling Paris about the last few months, how Logan had cheated, how she had gone back and hoped up until today they could somehow work it out.

"It was when I found out Logan's going back to California," Rory said, picking up an egg-roll. "I knew I couldn't go back. I knew it was over."

"You were going to stay with him even though he had an affair?" Paris asked incredulously. "You're a masochist, Gilmore."

"I knew it was over," Rory said sadly. "I just didn't want to admit it. I wanted to love him – I do still love him – just not like I did."

Paris nodded and Rory added,

"You know what part of it was?"

"What?"

"I went to Harvard today."

"How come?"

"I'm in Boston and I always wanted to go there," Rory told her. "We both did, remember?"

"Bitterly."

"I had a driver and everything so I figured it would be something fun to do."

Rory nibbled on her egg-roll and Paris guessed,

"Not so much, huh?"

"It was terrible," Rory said, putting the remainder down. "I felt so...it was like I was in a bubble. I was looking at all these kids running around – they aren't that much younger than us but they looked like kids – and the library, and how much I wanted to go there and how well I knew I'd do and now – I felt like an outsider. I felt like I was trespassing."

Paris looked at her but didn't say anything and, grateful, Rory continued,

"And it wasn't just because of the fancy clothes I was wearing, it was me. I didn't belong there, I don't belong there and it was the worst feeling in the world. Mom can see it, she knows what happened. I screwed up, Paris. I shouldn't have gotten married. One minute I was the Yale Daily News Editor and the next I was Logan Huntzberger's wife and hosting cocktail parties. I made a big mistake."

Rory took a breath and glanced at Paris who was looking at her curiously.

"Well, aren't you going to say it?" she asked, her voice shaking. "You've thought it for years. Tell me how much I screwed up."

"You shouldn't have married Logan," Paris said. "But you fell in love. That's not a screw-up, Rory."

Rory smiled, unable to speak as her friend added,

"And you left. You're not screwing up anymore. I won't let you."

Rory, throat tight, leaned over and hugged her.

"Thanks."

"That's okay," Paris said awkwardly and Rory released her, laughing.

"Are you always going to be weird about hugging?"

"Hey, I'm only comfortable with Doyle doing it and even then there's a time limit."

"Where is Doyle, anyway?" Rory asked and Paris said,

"Visiting his parents. I've got the place to myself for the whole week, or we both do, I guess."

"I can stay?"

"I'm hardly going to send you back to that hotel."

"Thanks, Paris," Rory said and Paris pointed a chopstick at her.

"That's not a cue for you to start hugging me again."

"Oh, of course."

They looked at each other and started laughing. Rory finished the rest of her egg-roll and looked around the empty apartment.

"Déjà-vu, huh?"

"Déjà-vu," Paris agreed. "And this time, I won't open the door."

"I'll eat to that," Rory said. They toasted with their takeout boxes and watched cable television until late.

Late that night there was a banging on the door. Rory woke with a jump, wincing as her neck cricked on the arm of the couch, and sat up as Paris marched to the door, holding what appeared to be a can of pepper spray in her hand.

"Who the hell is this?" she growled. Though she was wearing white pyjamas with a lavender lining she looked positively menacing and Rory did not envy their late night visitor. A glance at the clock on the table showed it was three in the morning.

Paris opened the door an inch, leaving the chain on and snarled,

"What?"

"You're as charming as ever."

It was Logan's voice. Rory got up and walked nervously to the door as Paris said coolly,

"Huntzberger. What a surprise."

"Logan?" Rory asked in disbelief. "What are you doing here? How did you get this address?"

"It took a few hours," Logan said, rubbing his head, the hair dishevelled. "But I found someone who knew someone who knew Paris – or Doyle, they're scared of Paris – and got the address from them."

"Nice work, Hardy Boy."

"I'm not talking to you, Paris," Logan snapped. "Of all people, God – would you open the door?"

"Like hell."

"Let me talk to Rory."

"You don't get to talk to Rory," Paris said. "I'm not making that mistake again."

"Let me talk to her!"

"Paris," Rory said, walking up to her. "It's okay."

"You don't have to talk to him, Rory."

"I know. But you can open the door."

Paris frowned but she unlocked the door, keeping the spray aloft. Logan stepped through the doorway, raising his eyebrows and said,

"I don't know what the hell your problem is."

"You don't know what the hell my problem is?" Paris shouted, stepping in front of him. "Hey! I'm talking to you! I'll tell you what my problem is, Huntzberger, and it's not you breaking my carefully timed sleeping pattern at three in the morning. It's getting my best friend to marry you and treating her like dirt for two years."

"That's not –"

"Oh, yes it is. She's been miserable ever since she married you."

"I didn't see –"

"Of course you didn't," Paris said. "You can't see anything beyond your Porsce!"

Logan's mouth turned into a tight line and Paris folded her arms.

"Besides, I know what you did. You know what you are, Huntzberger? I'll tell you what you are. You're a whore-hound. You're more pitiful than those drunken husbands in Tennessee Williams and you want to know why?"

Logan didn't say anything and Paris went on,

"Because you are still that pathetic, waste of a trust fund you were back at Yale only now it's worse. Now it's sad. Back then you were a lazy, spoiled college boy only now you're wearing a black tie and going to the office every day. You pretend to the world that you're this great businessman and husband but really you're still that cheating, hedonistic jerk who thinks he's God's gift to women. You're not a gift to women. You're more like a case of thrush."

"Paris!"

"If you try and talk Rory back, I will spray this between your eyes," Paris continued, ignoring her friend's interruption. "I'm amazed she took you back in the first place. If I ever married you, assuming I received a sharp blow to the head, you'd be scattered in several pieces around Connecticut by now."

"I'm getting really tired of you," Logan snapped. "Speaking of infections, you're like a case of herpes."

"Oh, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

"Okay!" Rory said loudly, stepping between them. Paris had her finger on the trigger of the spray and Rory was sure it was more than a threat. "That's enough! Paris, give us two minutes."

"No way," Paris snapped. "I remember what happened last time."

"Wasn't that because Doyle came in and you two got...let's just say I saw you make up?" Rory reminded her. Paris's cheeks went slightly pink but all she said was,

"I don't want to leave you alone with him."

"But I have to talk to him alone," Rory said. "Look, I'll be out in the hall. I promise not to leave."

Paris considered and relented. She handed Rory the spray.

"Fine," she said. "But I'm setting a timer for two minutes and I want you to take this."

"Deal," Rory said. She nodded at Logan and the two stepped outside, Rory carefully closing the door. She was sure Paris was right beside it and she turned to look at Logan, feeling self-conscious for the first time. She'd borrowed some of Par's running clothes to sleep in and she folded her arms across the baggy brown T-shirt, still warm from her sleep.

"Rory, come back," Logan said.

"No."

"Rory, please," Logan begged. "I've been up all night –"

"Stalking me."

"Trying to find you. It can't end like this."

Rory stared at him. His face was heavy, his eyes bloodshot and red and his clothes creased.

"Logan, I can't go back with you," she said. "For all the reasons I've already said."

"Rory, what am I supposed to tell my boss?" Logan exclaimed. "That my wife disappeared halfway through the week?"

"Tell them I got sick or something," Rory said and Logan asked angrily,

"What about after that? What am I going to tell them when I go to California without my wife?"

"Logan, it's not 1900 anymore, people get divorced!" Rory said but Logan shook his head.

"No," he said roughly. "We don't. We don't get divorced."

"Logan –"

"Ace, I love you," he said, taking her arms. "I married you, I want to stay married to you. Come on. Let's go back, no one needs to know."

The touch was too familiar and Rory shook it off.

"No!" she said. "I know, Logan. I'm not going to sweep this under the rug anymore, pretend it hasn't happened. It has happened."

"What?"

"The end of our marriage."

"Rory –"

"You cheated on me," Rory said. "More than once and I know it. You did, didn't you? The lipstick on your shirts in California?"

Logan hesitated and she shook her head.

"But you know it's just not that. I said it before. When you came here that first time, to the old apartment, I could forget it because I loved you. I wanted to think you could change, I wanted to think you would if I stayed but I can't tell myself that anymore."

"I love you, Rory."

"But I don't love you," Rory said with finality. "Not like I did that day."

Logan stared and his resolve crumbled away. Rory watched as he nodded, his body sagging and he turned to walk away.

"Okay," he said in a quiet voice. "Okay."

"Logan," Rory called as he started down the hall. He looked up. "It wasn't all for nothing."

He smiled at her in a wan way.

"You did good, Ace."

Rory stared but before she could ask what he meant he had already slipped out of the door. Rory watched and finally walked slowly back into the apartment to find Paris crouched by the alarm clock.

"Under two minutes," she said happily. "I'm proud of you, Rory."

"Yeah?" Rory said, feeling a peculiar happiness. "I'm proud of me too."

On Friday Rory went home. Paris was driving to Hartford to see her parents and Rory knew it was time to leave.

"Thanks for letting me stay," she said shyly. Paris shrugged.

"You're welcome. I just wish you'd let me use that pepper spray on Huntzberger."

Rory laughed and started to pack, deciding not the voice the small part of her which agreed. The drive did not take long and when they were in Rory's old neighbourhood she said,

"You can drop me here."

"Stars Hollow's twenty minutes away."

"I know, but this is where my old apartment is. I need to pick up some things."

"I can wait."

"Thanks, but my car's there. I can drive the rest of the way."

Paris nodded, drove her to the old street and dropped her off.

"I don't know what I'd have done without you," Rory said, hugging her. "I mean it."

"You're welcome," Paris said and Rory released her, laughing.

"Still hate hugging, huh?"

"Yes, in the five days you stayed my outlook on hugging has completely changed," Paris said sarcastically. Rory grinned and she smiled. "That doctor of yours was the smartest plan you've had in a long time."

"Well," Rory said. "It was your idea."

They smiled shyly and Paris started the car up.

"I'm going before you hug me again," she said and Rory laughed as she drove away.

Surprisingly, it was not terribly hard going back into the apartment. Rory felt a tugging sadness but it wasn't the same, aching pain of before. She felt strange walking around the old rooms, half expecting to see the ghosts of her and Logan there. It had only been two weeks since she'd lived there yet it felt a lifetime ago. Rory gathered all the clothes from the closet, putting them in the spare suitcase and opened the cabinet for the books which weren't in boxes. She put them away and her breath caught in her throat as her hand landed on Slaughterhouse Five. Slowly she picked it up but doing so made her heart beat fast and hastily she dropped in her purse, zipping it up. She gathered her bags, checked under the bed and left the apartment, feeling like a guest who'd outstayed her welcome. She took two trips to the car carrying her boxes and bags and stared up at the apartment, saying a silent goodbye. Then she got into her car, feeling an old affection for it, and drove home.

Rory parked by the house, heart beating. She hurried to the door, hesitated and took her hand from her pocket. She had her keys but knocked on the glass of the door, once, twice, three times. Soon Rory heard the step of her mother and angry shout of, "Who is it?" Rory didn't say anything and waited until Lorelai threw open the door.

"Who –" she started angrily and then stopped and stared.

"Hi Mom," Rory said quietly. They looked at each other and Lorelai's eyes brightened, tears tipping onto her cheeks at the sight of her daughter. She stared and opened her arms in disbelief.

"You've come home," she sobbed as Rory fell into them, hugging her tightly. "You've come home."

Rory went to Doose's two hours later. After a long time of crying and laughing and making up Lorelai realised they were out of snacks and a movie night was in order. She didn't want to let Rory go alone but her daughter pointed out that Lorelai had been crying constantly for the past two hours and had only just managed to stop.

"Besides," Rory said. "I've missed Stars Hollow."

"It's missed you," Lorelai agreed, tears streaming. "Okay, that's a corny thing to say but it's true."

Rory laughed and picked her purse, kissing her cheek.

"I won't be long."

Rory was almost at the door of the market when someone came round the corner, someone with black hair and his face buried in a book. Rory smiled at the sight of Jess looking so like his eighteen-year-old self and he jumped as she said,

"Watch where you're going, Mariano."

Jess looked up in surprise and frowned at Rory, a grin starting to form.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Gilmore."

"I'm getting food," Rory said, nodding at the store and Jess asked carefully,

"For a visit?"

"No," Rory said, shaking her head. "I've come home."

Jess raised his eyebrows and Rory said,

"It's over. I've left Logan."

"Rory, that's..." Jess's voice trailed off and he scratched his ear, as Rory remembered he did when he was nervous. "I'm glad."

"Thanks."

"I'm sorry," Jess added apologetically. "Not because I think you should've stayed, but –"

"I know. Thanks."

They nodded. For a moment they said nothing and smiled, Jess crossing his arms.

"I should go," Rory said eventually. "I said I'd be back soon and..."

"Can't let a movie night go to waste," Jess agreed. "Or day," he said, looking at the sky and Rory laughed, nodding. He smiled at her.

"I'm proud of you, Rory."

"Thanks, she said, touched. Jess nodded and got his book out, starting to walk away. Rory turned to go and suddenly remembered something.

"Hey!" she called and Jess turned back round. "I've got something for you."

Jess walked back quizzically and Rory reached into her purse, pulling out Slaughterhouse Five.

"Thanks," he said, taking it. "Did you like it?"

"I haven't finished it."

"Keep it then."

"I don't know when I will," Rory said. "And I feel guilty hanging on."

"Like with the Hemingway you never returned?"

Rory blushed and said defensively,

"He's impossible to read!"

"He only has lovely things to say about you," Jess teased. Rory blushed again but said firmly,

"Please."

"Fine," Jess said. "But you won't get it back for a few weeks. I'm going to Philadelphia again."

"Oh," Rory said, surprised. "Well...put some more notes in the margins for me."

That made Jess laugh out loud, his teeth flashing for a moment.

"I'll do that," he said, giving Rory his crooked grin. "See you around, Rory."

"See you," Rory said. He tucked the novel in his back pocket and touched her arm.

"I'm glad you're back," he said seriously. Rory nodded and watched him leave. She felt a sudden ache of sadness and, ignoring it, she pushed open the door to Doose's and decided what kind of peanut butter to buy.