Two weeks later Rory stood in Doctor Moran's office, a nervous smile on her face.

"So what do you think?" she asked, as the doctor finished turning the pages of her journal. "Do you like it?"

Doctor Moran lifted her head and said warmly,

"Rory, it's wonderful."

Rory let out a sigh of relief.

"I don't know if I'll do anything with it," she told her. "I've typed it up on my laptop so I have a hard copy, but I'm not going to try and publish it or anything. It's for me. Anyone can read it, if they want, but I wrote it for me."

Rory stopped awkwardly, worried she was babbling, but the doctor smiled and said,

"You've done an amazing job. I think writing it for yourself was the most important thing, the most important step."

Rory lowered herself into the seat opposite her and said,

"Do you really think so?"

"Rory, when you first came to me you hadn't written anything for over a year."

"I felt like I couldn't," Rory admitted. "I couldn't read, either. I didn't even think about it in the end...I couldn't concentrate when I tried so I stopped. I didn't plan to, it just happened."

"And now you've written this," Doctor Moran said, lifting up the journal. "I'm very proud of you, Rory. You should be proud of yourself."

Rory blushed a little and smiled self-consciously.

"I am," she said. "I don't feel like a failure anymore. I didn't even get how unhappy I was until..." Rory halted, frowning. "Not everything's perfect," she said eventually. "I still feel anxious sometimes and I'm still at home, but I don't feel so stuck anymore. I've applied for some jobs at some papers. I haven't gotten any interviews yet but it's a start, right?"

"It's definitely a start," Doctor Moran agreed. "It's more than a start. You've made incredible progress, Rory."

Rory nodded, pleasantly embarrassed, and Doctor Moran asked,

"So what are your plans for the rest of the week?"

"Actually," Rory said slowly, "I'm going to California."

It was to Doctor Moran's credit that she didn't stare at Rory or exclaim that she was crazy. Instead, her eyebrows lifted a fraction of an inch and she said,

"You are?"

"Do you think I'm insane?"

"No," Doctor Moran said. "I'm surprised. I assume this is to see your ex-husband."

"Yes."

Doctor Moran paused and then said,

"Are you ready for this, Rory? As I've said, you've made wonderful progress, but it will be very difficult emotionally, perhaps more than you've anticipated."

"I know. My mother thinks it's a bad idea."

That was an understatement. Lorelai had paced around the room five times, arms in the air, demanding of her daughter, have you gone insane? Have you lost your mind? Are you sure you didn't take anything funny out there?

Doctor Moran was silent and Rory went on,

"I'm ready for this. I know it's going to be hard. It's going to hurt, seeing Logan, but I have to."

"What do you need to talk to him about?"

"I don't know, exactly," Rory confessed. "I just need to see him. I need to tell him it's over. I mean, I have, but I need to say it again. I need him to know I've moved on."

Doctor Moran looked at her for a long moment and said,

"Rory, I think it's good that you want to say that, and that you feel ready, but I want you to understand how hard this might be. I know you're not putting on a facade of being prepared but seeing former spouses is difficult, even several years after separating. It hasn't been a full year since you and Logan decided to divorce."

"I know. I know it will hurt and I know it might be tough but I have to." Rory drew a breath and said firmly, "I have to do this and I have to do it now. It will be too late if I don't. It's the right time."

Doctor Moran nodded and Rory asked,

"Do you think I'm being stupid?"

"I don't think you're being stupid," Doctor Moran said. "Nor do I think you're being headstrong. I think that it will be harder than you think and it may be that you can't go through with it."

"I know," Rory said quietly. "But I have to try. Even if I can't, in the end, I'll have tried."

"That's what you should keep in mind," Doctor Moran agreed, handing her back the journal. "If you can't do it, when it comes to it, it doesn't mean you're a failure. It simply means you're human."

Rory looked at her, nodded and said softly,

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Doctor Moran shook her hand and stood up to see her out.

"Good luck, Rory."

Rory looked back gratefully.

"Thank you."

A week later Rory was on a plane once more. Lorelai had driven her to the airport, anxious the whole way, and constantly reminding Rory that if she wanted to change her mind she would turn the car around right now.

"I know," Rory said. "Relax, Mom. I'll be okay."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. I'll fly out, see Logan, stay in a motel and fly back tomorrow. It's not even three days."

"I'm worried. I can't help that."

Rory looked into her mother's eyes, trying to fill them with reassurance.

"I know. I love you, Mom."

There was no going back now. Rory looked out of the window as the plane gained flight, Connecticut shrinking below them, and sucked in her breath. She remembered Doctor Moran's words, that if she found she couldn't do it she wasn't a failure. She had tried. She was trying. Rory got out a trashy magazine Lorelai had bought her and began to read.

It was only until after they had flown over Illinois some time later that Rory thought of Dean. She wondered what he was doing and where he lived now, if he'd stayed in Connecticut or moved back to Chicago. Rory knew he'd got married again and moved away but not where. She rarely thought about Dean now, apart from fleeting moments where something would remind her of him. She wondered what her younger self would say to that, if she could tell her that he was never in her mind. Rory remembered the childish anticipation, waiting for him to pick her up, the dizziness when he gave her her first kiss. Slowly and steadily the excitement had trickled away, and loving Dean began to feel like responsibility rather than something she knew. Rory ignored the boredom she was beginning to get and after her horrible first year at Yale, when Dean showed up at her door, there was a strange kind of relief as he started to kiss her. She could get it all back, the simple happiness of being sixteen, but as he pressed her onto the bed, pushed his penis into her, Rory felt the touch of disappointment. This is sex she thought, as he moved slowly inside her, his skin crushing her chest. It was not how she'd imagined nor pictured, both less and more than everyone said it would be. Then it started to hurt and Rory told Dean to stop, which he did. He whispered that he loved her and Rory said the same, staunchly ignoring the dull feeling inside, as she did for the rest of the brief rekindling of their relationship. She fiercely told herself it had to work out, he was still her Dean, yet it still fell apart. He told her he didn't belong and, as the tears streamed down her cheeks, there was the old, familiar sense of relief Rory felt before.

She barely thought of Dean after that. Logan was there, whisking her off her feet, and Rory decided she was done with relationships. They only led to disappointment and being broken up with. It all hurt too much. Sleeping with Logan off and on, while exciting, didn't feel comfortable. Logan told her he'd be a boyfriend and then they'd wound up married. So much for a casual thing with him, Rory thought wryly. And then Jess. It was impossible to describe what she'd had with him, what they were. There had never been any kind of boredom, no uncomfortable sensation that she didn't belong.

Rory adjusted her seatbelt. The pilot announced they were in the Midwest, weather conditions stable and that in a few hours they would reach California. Rory picked up her headphones and started to watch a movie.

The plane landed smoothly. Rory joined the line of tired passengers, impatient for fresh air, but as she left the aircraft and walked down the steps something caught in her throat. The old taste of California air filled Rory's mouth and she hesitated, closing her eyes.

"Lady, you're holding up the line!"

Rory turned to see an impatient man behind her and, stumbling out an apology, hurried down the rest of the steps. The air was an old acquaintance. Rory had forgotten the taste of it until taking it in and now it was an unwelcome friend, brimming her mind with memories. Rory forced herself to walk to the carousal, buying a bottle of water at the first store she could see. Shaken, she sat on a bench and sipped it. Doctor Moran was right. It had been five thousand times harder than she'd thought it would be and she hadn't even seen Logan yet. Rory took in deep, long breaths, as she had taught her, drinking more water until she felt calm. Finally she got up, tucked the water away and went to get a cab.

"Here!"

The cab ground to a halt and Rory stared up the old apartment buildings. Hers – his – was the last on the left. It had never really been hers at all.

"Miss?"

Rory jumped and handed the driver some cash.

"Thanks," she said, hopping out, dragging her bag with her. "Keep the change."

Rory watched until he'd driven away. She'd stopped on the way at the motel to check into her room and drop off her case but she hadn't lingered. Time was pressing on her, telling her to hurry, but now, as she started towards the apartment, Rory felt her courage dwindle. Part of her wanted to turn back, check out more of the miserable motel, but she fought it. Rory knew the longer she waited the worse it would be and she made herself take one, two, three steps across the street and up the old white steps. Rory smoothed her pants down, lifted her hand and knocked on the door. She wanted to look into the yard at the tree but Logan was already there, opening the door.

"Rory."

"Hi, Logan."

Rory tried to smile. She wondered if it was good or bad that he'd left off calling her Ace and followed her former husband inside. It was the same apartment yet it looked different, and not simply due to the larger television and new games console. It looked smaller, somehow, and the air had changed. It was a boiling hot day yet Rory shivered as she glanced around, seeing into the bedroom. She remembered sitting there a year before, telling her mother she was coming home, hoping for more than six months. Rory made herself look away as Logan asked,

"Do you want some tea or something?"

His voice was tired. His hair and face were immaculate but he looked heavier and Rory saw in the corner several empty beer bottles.

"Just water, please."

Logan went to the refridgerator and handed Rory a bottle. She thanked him and started to sip. Logan took one as well but didn't open it.

"Why are you here?" he asked suddenly. "Why did you come? I'm guessing it's not because you want to try again."

Rory put the bottle on a table. She was silent and said,

"I had to see you."

Logan let out a bark of laughter.

"You had to see me?" he echoed, shaking his head. "To what? Laugh at this pathetic guy who spends his weekends playing video games?"

"Logan, no," Rory said, stricken. "It's nothing like that."

"Then what is it?" Logan demanded. "You either ignored my emails or told me to quit talking to you, so I did. I stopped trying to figure things you with you, act like we weren't married, when you email me after five months and ask if you can come here, to see me. You don't say why or what you want to talk about and now you're standing here saying you don't know?"

"Logan –"

"I've been in hell since we broke up," Logan said. "Do you know how humiliating it felt for me to come back here and everyone ask where my wife was? And tell everyone she wanted to get divorced?"

"Gee, I don't know, Logan," Rory snapped. "Possibly as humiliating as finding out your new boss was some woman called Lisa and you'd been cheating on me since we moved back, and then figuring out you'd done it before that too."

Logan fell silent and Rory squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to take a breath.

"I didn't come here to fight," she said evenly. "I didn't come to yell at you."

Logan didn't say anything and Rory said slowly,

"I came here to tell you that it was never right, our marriage. It wouldn't have mattered if you hadn't cheated or we hadn't moved home. It would never have worked out. It wasn't because of anything we'd done, it was because of us. We weren't meant to get married."

"Wasn't it right, at first?" Logan said, taking a step towards her. "You say you were miserable but I know you were happy. I could see it, when we went on our honeymoon and our first year here. You said you loved me. I know you wanted to be with me."

"I did," Rory agreed. "And I was glad I married you, Logan. I was so glad, those first few months. It wasn't all bad."

"Then –"

"It couldn't last," Rory said. "How soon did I stop being happy? How soon did we stop talking? How soon did you start sleeping with other people?"

Logan opened his mouth and Rory held up her hand.

"I don't want to know," she said. "It doesn't matter. It's not the point."

"I was going to say," Logan told her, "that when I married you, I didn't think I'd ever look at another woman. I loved you."

Rory looked at him and said quietly,

"I know you did."

They stood silently for a moment and then Logan asked,

"So are you with him now?"

"No," Rory said, knowing who Logan meant. "I'm not with him now."

"I bet."

"I'm not lying," Rory said angrily, her heart thumping. "It didn't work."

"You were."

Rory didn't say anything and Logan nodded. He opened his bottle of water, drank a little and said,

"So I'm an uncle now."

"I heard," Rory said, relieved at the change of subject. "Congratulations. Ellie's beautiful."

"Honor said you came to visit," Logan said. "After yelling at me for screwing up."

"Yeah," Rory said. "I saw her again last week."

"She said you were on some trip," Logan said. "Did you really stay in hostels? By yourself?"

"I did."

"You're crazy."

Logan's voice had the kind of sneer Richard and Emily's had lacked when saying the same. Rory said coldly,

"You wouldn't understand, Logan."

"And I don't want to."

Rory sighed, knowing there was no use in arguing. She drank more of her own water and her eyes wandered past Logan's shoulder and out into the yard. Rory gasped, spluttering over the water and walked past him to stare out of the open window.

"Where's the avocado tree?"

"I cut it down," Logan said, joining her. "It was rotten at the root."

Rory nodded, her throat tight, and Logan added,

"There was nothing I could do."

"I know."

Rory couldn't tear her eyes away. The magnificent tree had been reduced to an empty stump, barely a memory of what had stood before. She swallowed tears in her throat, saw some fruit in the yard, and Logan said,

"That's what was left when I cut the tree down. You can take it, if you want."

"I do."

Rory opened the back door and went into the garden where she and Logan had made love. It was a distant memory, almost another life. Rory walked over, picked one up and bit into the last of the fruit.

Shortly after, she returned up the steps. Logan had switched his water for beer and Rory said carefully,

"Logan, I really do think you drink too much."

"Maybe," he said to her surprise. "It helps."

"Helps what?"

"You know," Logan sad cuttingly. "Don't play shy."

Rory bit her lip.

"You don't have to drink like that," she said eventually. "In the moment it helps, but –"

"Don't tell me how to live my life," Logan retorted. "You're not my wife anymore."

"Fine," Rory said. "I won't. I didn't then, either. I'm trying to help."

"Well, don't."

"Fine," Rory said again. "I should go. I'm sorry if – I wasn't trying to upset you."

Logan let out a long breath.

"I know you weren't."

Rory nodded and he said,

"What are you doing now, anyway?"

"I'm still at home. I work at the bookstore sometimes. Mom's birthday is next week."

Rory waited but Logan didn't say anything so she asked,

"What about you?"

"Working. I went to Vegas with Colin and Finn last week. I don't spend a lot of time here, actually. I'm thinking of moving out."

"Where to?"

Logan shrugged.

"Somewhere closer to the city."

"Good for you."

They smiled slightly and Rory delved into her purse. Logan looked at her, puzzled.

"Here," Rory said, coming out with a jewellery box. "Logan, I can't keep our rings."

"Don't make me take them back."

"Logan, I can't keep them," Rory said. "If you don't want them I won't make you take them but I'm not keeping them. I'm not holding on."

Logan looked down at the box in her hand and took it from her.

"I'll keep my ring," he sad eventually. "I can't take yours."

"That's okay," Rory said, relieved. "That's fine."

"Don't pawn it," Logan pleaded. "I know it's yours, but –"

Rory looked at him, softened, and said gently,

"I promise, Logan. I don't know what I'll do with my ring but I promise not to pawn it."

Her ex-husband sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Rory."

They smiled awkwardly and Rory picked up her purse.

"I should go. Thanks for agreeing to see me."

"Are you in town long?" Logan asked. "Do you want to grab some coffee or something?"

His eyes were hopeful but Rory shook her head.

"I can't," she said. "But thanks. Goodbye, Logan."

"Goodbye, Rory."

Logan watched her walk to the door and wave. Rory walked out of the apartment, back down the steps and sank on the street corner, closing her eyes and releasing the tension in her chest. Her mother and doctor were right, it had been hard, but Rory didn't think it had been wrong. She was glad she had done it and, as she called a cab, felt a great sense of relief. It was only until they were driving back to the motel, ascending a hill and passing the ocean that Rory realised Logan hadn't called her Ace once. She sat back on the seat, took a deep breath and looked at the waves. Everything had finished. It was all a memory, their marriage had passed. Rory's eyes settled on the endless blue. The sky was no longer an enemy.