enjoy xoxo

P.S. thank you Michie-Sunflower for your super kind review! Such a huge compliment to hear that you can see the scenes so clearly. I really appreciate it and hope you continue to enjoy the story!

disclaimer: I own nothing

"Hi mom," Rory says into her phone later that night, laying in Jess's bed. She banished him from the room until they finish talking; she doesn't doubt her mom has supersonic hearing.

"Is this the tucked in to bed call I was promised?"

"It sure is."

"You're so good to mommy. It sounds nice and quiet but make sure you check under the bed for hoodlums before you fall asleep."

Rory rolls her eyes, "Okay sure. How was your day?"

"Oh it was good. The Inn was fully booked today, and should be throughout the next month or so. People love that small town charm, especially around the holidays!"

"That's great!"

"Uh huh. I love being busy, it keeps me from thinking too much about what my daughter's been doing."

"I don't like the way you said that."

"I went to Luke's this afternoon, got some coffee, asked if you stopped by to say goodbye to him. He said yes and then he got all weird and awkward - as Luke does when there's a topic being approached that he doesn't want to talk about. I had to threaten to start the electric slide in the middle of his diner, because obviously everyone would join me and it would turn into a dance mob which would have made steam come out of Luke's ears, so finally he told me that while running some dish rags through the laundry, he found pieces of women's clothing in his dryer. At this point, I may have thought he was trying to tell me he was cheating on me and I pushed my coffee off the counter for dramatic effect and he was confused and then I was confused and there was a big mess and Kirk slipped and Luke yelled and madness ensued. Anyway, upon further inspection he realized that the clothes belonged to a Lorelai Gilmore; no, not I, because I haven't been up in that apartment since last Easter, that's a story for another day, but alas he recognized them as Rory Gilmore's clothes from Thanksgiving. The same Rory Gilmore who spent the night at Luke's and claimed that nothing happened with Jess, they just watched a movie and passed out on the couch, yet all of the clothes she was wearing that day, minus a bra, were sitting in Luke's dryer. I for one am interested in what happened to the bra? Did Jess take it home with him as a souvenir? Did you somehow come home on Friday in just your bra and coat, like a flasher? Did it get eaten by the dryer? Is it stuffed in Luke's couch cushions? I'm just dying to know, Rory."

Rory has gotten out of bed and is pacing across the bedroom. Gnawing at her lip and desperately trying to think of something she can say to her mother, because telling her the truth will unravel multiple layers of the pretense she has been trying to keep up lately.

"Mom, you're overreacting. It's not what you're thinking."

"And what am I thinking?"

Rory sighs, and settles with telling her the incomplete truth, "There was a stain on my dress. Jess offered to wash it for me."

"I'm sure he had no ulterior motives there."

"He loaned me sweatpants and a shirt. I just forgot to grab my clothes from the dryer is all."

"Okay and let's say I believe this story, why did you need to wash your underwear too? Stain magically went right through your thick sweater dress and your tights? Did you sit on a cherry pie? Or a puddle of red wine?"

"Well no, it just seemed silly to wash only my dress. My tights were in there too, you know. It just made sense to wash them all since I wasn't wearing them."

"But not the bra?"

"No, I kept the bra on."

"So you sat and watched a movie next to Jess, in his sweatpants, no underwear on? And his sweatpants weren't too big for you? They weren't sliding down and revealing parts of your body that Jess probably has wanted to see for fourteen years? And I'm supposed to believe nothing happened?"

Rory huffs in aggravation, "Can you please drop this? I told you what happened. It's not my fault if you don't believe me. I'm an adult you know."

"Fine." Lorelai replies, tone hostile. Rory sighs and sits silently for a few moments.

"Mom…I'm not going to be able to sleep if I think you're mad at me." Rory sits down on the bed. She hears Lorelai take a breath in and exhale.

"I'm not mad honey. I'm sorry. It feels like you're not sharing things with me and that freaks me out. I know you're all grown up now but…you're still my best friend."

"I understand," but she can't bring herself to reassure her, "I love you mom."

"I love you too Rory. And listen, I know you're an adult and you can make your own decisions and you have your own life. I just…worry that you don't know the extent of what you're doing. You're having another man's baby, a man with power and connections and the potential to screw everything up for you, and if you're getting involved with him, Jess too."

"Logan would never do that!" Rory refutes, thinking especially since there is nothing between us anymore.

"Love and money and children born from affairs make people do crazy things Rory! That's what I am trying to get you to understand. You saw what the Kennedys did to Marilyn!"

"That's a conspiracy theory! And are you suggesting that Logan would have me killed?! Have you completely lost it?"

Lorelai sighs, "I don't know, maybe I have. Not to sound like a broken record but, it feels like you're not sharing information with me. And now we live far apart and you have Jess nearby and Paris, and I'm afraid you'll never talk to me again."

"Mom…you have nothing to worry about," Rory replies softly.

"I know. I need to trust you. I'm sorry."

Rory feels a stab in her gut.

"It's okay."

"Call me tomorrow?"

"I will. Goodnight."

"Night babe."

She falls backwards on the bed, pondering about when and how she is ever going to let herself tell the truth. The door creaks and Jess walks in, he sits on the bed next to her.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Kinda. Luke told mom about finding my clothes. Well, rather, she tormented him until he told her." Jess simply nods in response.

"I just told her that there was a stain on my clothes that I wanted to get out." He shoots her a look.

"And she was satisfied with that answer?"

"I don't think so. But I didn't really give her a choice."

"I see. Well, I guess you saved me from a beat down so thanks for that."

"I don't know about that. I don't think my mom would give us a hard time if I told her the truth. She's more bothered that she thinks I'm keeping stuff from her and that I haven't told Logan yet. Not that there's anything to tell him about now."

"Why are you still keeping stuff from her?"

"Because I have to, Jess."

"You know I don't agree with that. She wants to be there for you. Maybe you should let her. "

"I'm not ready."

Jess relents with a shrug.

"So…should I sleep on the couch?" he eventually asks, and the shyness in his voice makes Rory smile.

"I won't allow it. Get in bed with me."

They get under the covers and Jess leans over and turns off the light.

"Jess, I've been wanting to ask you something. When I told you about the miscarriage, you said a lot of…helpful things that I wouldn't expect you to know about. Did you…or I guess did someone you were sexually active with-"

"No, I didn't get anyone pregnant. One of the guys from Truncheon was trying to start a family with his wife a few years ago. They struggled and it helped him to talk to someone about it, so we talked about it every once in a while."

"Oh okay. Did it ever happen for them?"

He kisses her shoulder. He adores her care for all living things.

"Yes, they now have a two year old daughter named Ava and his wife is pregnant again. They love being parents."

"That's beautiful."

Jess softly replies, "You know you can have that too one day if you want it. It's still a possibility for you."

Rory considers it in her head, but she's too close to the pain to see if it's something she wants yet.

"Yeah, maybe. By the way, I talked to Paris yesterday and you were right. She did have the statistics memorized."

"No surprise there," he says but it sounds upbeat, "Did it help at all? Talking to her?"

"I think so. It made it…a little less mystifying. She encouraged me to talk to more women in my life. She said it's likely some of them have been through it."

"I think that's a great idea, if you're comfortable with it. Maybe you should talk to someone else too…ever consider therapy?"

"Therapy? But this is just one thing. I can deal with one thing."

"Is it just one thing?"

When Rory doesn't respond he continues, "I'm not a doctor or anything but the way you talk about yourself sometimes, and the way your mind works, it's like you're forever holding yourself against a standard of perfection that's not human. That affects a person."

She is still quiet so he goes on, "I went to therapy. After Truncheon was doing well enough for good health insurance, I thought I should go. I had a lot of childhood crap and a lot of personal issues that even though I had learned to control, like my attitude, the thoughts they stemmed from were still there. It was helpful to have someone to express that to without receiving pity or judgment. I still go sometimes." It feels like he has opened another window for her to see him through. She knows both that it's a big deal and that he doesn't want her to make a big deal out of it. He's destigmatizing it for her at the expense of his vulnerability. She envisions climbing through this window and hugging his heart.

Sometime later she says softly, "Thank you. I will think about it."

He rolls on his side to drape an arm across her body, kissing her shoulder. She finds his hand and holds it. They lay there quietly but it takes time for either to fall asleep. Jess thinking about Rory, if she knows the depth of the hole she's digging herself the longer she waits to deal with her life. He knows that she won't see her mom again for a while, and he knows that she would never tell her over the phone. On top of that, Christmas is getting increasingly closer and he can only imagine how hard it will be for her to open gifts meant for a child she isn't having. The thought wrenches him. In the back of his mind, another thought pokes at him: he wants to know where they stand too.

Rory's awake with similar thoughts. She is already struggling to see a way to disentangle things with her mom, and by proxy Luke. The two people in her life that would do anything for her, that want her to feel loved and safe and protected. But at the same time, it all feels so personal to her. It's her bubble of grief, and seeing her mom and Luke upset for her will bury any chance at recovery even deeper within her. In some way she thinks Jess is right about wanting to be perfect. Part of it is that she still feels like a failure for all of it, the pregnancy and miscarriage; she expects better of herself. She understands that she messed up and sometimes she feels like she wants to live with that, without relief. She can be okay here in New York, just her and Jess spending time together, without the pressure of her family's love making her feel guilty. And how long would Jess let you get away with that?

The move into her apartment goes smoothly. Rory is thrilled to see a space filled with only her things, all for her to decide where to go. It's a freedom she never had before, her and Paris shared a space for years and Logan's big, dark apartment was filled with all his extravagant belongings and furnishings. Living on the road meant cramming herself and her small amount of things into a shared hotel room. Then bouncing around between Stars Hollow and London where she was either in an apartment that she didn't belong in in the first place, or a stuffy five star hotel room that Logan put her up in. She finally has a home that isn't connected to anyone else's life. It's liberating; a brand new freedom at thirty two.

"You seem happy." Jess tells her, his deep eyes wandering over her face. They are sitting on the couch in her new living room, eating Chinese takeout. Appetizers from one restaurant, and entrees from another, to compare.

Her grin is wide, her energy giddy. It lights something up inside him and it's a familiar feeling. He thinks of them as teenagers, him angry at the world and her gleaming smile paired with wide twinkling eyes, pulling him towards a taste of bliss.

"I am so happy. I have my own place! I can do whatever I want. I can organize my movies by genre, I can color code my closet without mom wrecking it because she wants to borrow a dress, I can shower for as long as I want, well, until the hot water runs out -"

"You can walk around naked," Jess smirks, and she of course blushes.

"Maybe, but only when I'm alone."

"Cruel woman."

"And I'm going to text you every time I do it."

"Diabolical!"

She giggles, "And no face timing me for a peek either!" He shakes his head in disbelief, smirk still firmly intact.

"I'm glad you're happy, Rory." He holds her gaze and reaches out to squeeze her hand. He breaks away and stands up to start cleaning up her coffee table.

"You don't have to do that. We're in my apartment now, remember?"

"It's my housewarming gift."

"Well then it's true what they say that money can't buy happiness." He laughs as he puts food away in her kitchen, steps away from her living room couch.

"I do have a housewarming gift for you, one that I spent money on. A couple of things actually."

"Oh I was kidding! Why did you get me anything?"

"Because you have your own place for the first time, haven't you heard? I hid them in one of your boxes earlier, mind if I go in your room to get them?"

She chuckles, "Still doing magic tricks I see. Go ahead."

He comes back a few minutes later with a large gift bag and hands it to her.

"Is it a puppy?"

"No, I wouldn't do that to a poor innocent animal. I've heard how Lorelais are with pets."

"We've gotten better!" She declares, reaching into the bag. She pulls out a box that says it's a noise machine.

"The sounds of the city help me sleep, but I figure a small town girl like yourself might not feel the same way. And, it lights up all different colors on your ceiling if you want. Seemed like something that you would like…and Lorelai." She gives him an appreciative smile, heart thumping at his consideration of her and her mom.

"That's so thoughtful Jess, thank you! I can already see mom turning my bedroom into a club. The Go-Gos on my record player, flashing lights on. Her dancing all over my clean bed, no doubt."

Jess grins, "Couple more things in there."

Rory shakes her head to say you shouldn't have, but goes back into the bag anyway. She pulls out a maroon colored folder, the words "Truncheon Publishing" are on the front in classic, black script. She looks perplexed, "What's this?"

Jess shrugs.

"Not a job offer I hope…I'm sleeping with one of the partners, could look bad." He rolls his eyes but laughs.

"Stop being witty for a second, little Lorelai, and open the folder."

She does as she's told and starts reading the letter inside. As she gets further through it, her stomach sinks lower and lower. Apprehension courses through her body. She feels terrible because she knows that Jess is expecting the opposite response. And even though it's Jess and she's never been able to kid him before, she's going to try. She jumps up off the couch and gives him a hug.

"You guys want to publish my book?"

"Is that what the letter said? I thought it was a cease and desist to keep you from distracting me from my work."

"Jess! This is a…wonderful gift. Thank you. I just hope that I live up to-"

He places a finger on her lips, "Shh. This isn't Random House. You don't have to feel any pressure. Just…do you. Be you, write like you, and everything will come together."

She nods and wraps her arms around his neck to give him a kiss.

"One more thing," he points to the bag. She turns and pulls out the last item. It's a small house plant. She looks at Jess and he smirks, "Just to make your mom a little crazy." Rory looks confused but quickly remembers the conversation at Thanksgiving and laughs.

"You're terrible. But I love it, it will be nice to have something to take care of. Thank you. For everything."

His mouth forms a tight smile and he nods, "Welcome."

"If you're giving me a plant, I think I owe you something in return." She stands up and opens a drawer in her kitchen. She walks back to him and hands him a key. He smirks but it quickly turns into a delicate smile.

"You sure?"

She smiles, "Of course, how else will you get in to water my plant?"

"Pretty sure Lorelai would have proclaimed 'dirty' if she heard that comment."

Her smile widens, "Do you want to stay over?"

He waves a hand at her, "On your first night in your very own apartment? No way. You should savor it. Besides, I have some editing to do. And I meant to tell you, I will be in Philadelphia all next week. Helping the guys get things ready for the holidays, aka watching the store so they can Christmas shop."

"That's fun, you get to sit in a bookstore for hours. I'm jealous."

"Well I'm sure it will involve me picking up massive amounts of manuscripts to work on when I get home too. Sometimes it's a burden being the only one without a wife and kids," Jess mumbles, then asks, "Want to plan to meet up the following week? Maybe discuss your book?"

She gives him a small smile, trying not to portray the sinking feeling in her stomach at being completely alone her first full week in New York.

"Do I need to make an official appointment? I hear you're a very busy man."

"I always make time for my best clients."

"Do those other clients have sex with you too?" she bats her eyes at him, causing him to grin.

"No, I typically like to separate work and play. Only one time did a woman make a move on me, and I moved her to a different editor because it was too uncomfortable."

"Cool, I'm special!"

"Yes you are, did you eat any paste today?" She glares at him. "Joking. You know you're special, stop fishing." The ends of her mouth perk up high. "I'll see you in a couple weeks. I'm sure we'll talk before that."

"Yes, now that you live in the 21st century and have a phone that I can call, text or facetime - good luck getting rid of me."

He gives her a genuine grin, "Bye, Rory." He lingers at the door, unsure if he should be kissing her or not. Their relationship is somewhat vague and formless. He has been following her lead as to not scare her away. But some definition would be nice so he doesn't have to feel like an ass standing around waiting for her to do something. He resigns himself to leaning in and putting a hand behind her head to kiss her cheek. He steps back and gives her one last look before heading out for the subway. Rory being Rory, is completely oblivious to his struggle as she closes the door behind him and looks around her apartment with a delightful grin.

She takes her new light up noise machine to her bedroom and plugs it in. She looks through her box of records and finds the Chuck Berry record that she gave her grandfather for his birthday years ago. Emily had cleaned out some of her storage the week of Lorelai's wedding since she was in town. She gave the record and some more of his books to Rory. She glides her fingertips over the album cover. Her eyes water as she recalls sitting next to him on the living room floor, listening to it together on his birthday. It was the perfect gift. She hugs it to her chest then gets up and puts it in her record player. She turns off her bedroom light and presses the lights button on her machine until she discovers a ceiling of stars emanating from it. The music is energetic, but instead of dancing, Rory lays out on her bed and stares up at the ceiling, taking everything in. She smiles and a teardrop falls down her face as she thinks, Grandpa would be proud of this.

It takes just several days before the novelty wears off. She suddenly feels exactly as she thought she wanted: alone. It's funny in a cosmic way. She wanted to be away from the love and care, as well as the prying eyes, of Stars Hollow so badly. She wanted to be on her own, to be by herself. To live with and figure out what she's been through and she didn't think it was possible in her hometown because she didn't have space for herself. To exist as a separate entity from the other Lorelai, from the small town girl they all 'knew'. She didn't want them to ask questions or for Luke or Lorelai to continue to talk to her about the baby. She thought it would be better alone since this means she doesn't have to continually lie and force conversation.

Now she is realizing that the last person she actually wants to talk to is herself. And she realizes, it's true what they say: everywhere you go, you're taking yourself. There is no escaping when the problem is you.

She used to keep detailed diaries every day of her life when she was younger. She thought she would pick the habit back up now that she's living on her own, to record everything that happens when no one else is there to remember for her. But after writing an entry about moving into her new apartment, and then the next couple of days writing about all of the mundane things she did by herself, like drink coffee and walk to a local café for a piece of cake, organize her movie collection; she finds there is nothing else to say.

She keeps a to do list next to her journal entries. The revolving list since moving in has been:

-Think about the book

-Write

-Think about how to tell mom and Luke

-Look for work

Her mood sinks deeper as she stares at the list again. She doesn't want to do any of those things. But this is why you're alone Rory, to deal with your shit. She groans and pulls at her hair. It's midafternoon, and she knows from his phone calls the last couple of days that Jess takes a break from the store around this time. She picks up her phone to call him for peace and distraction; his voice is the only thing that makes her feel calm and somewhat sane right now. He has been diligent about speaking to her daily since they last saw each other. She isn't sure if it's similar to Paris's phone calls, that he's just checking to make sure she hasn't spiraled, or if it's because he truly wants to talk to her every day. Either way, it's a notable change from the person he was in high school. Funny how he seems to have only changed for the better, and she only seems to change for the worse.

The line picks up but she only hears shuffling and buttons being pressed.

"Hello?" she asks, holding the phone slightly from her ear.

"Hi," she hears a babyish voice respond and then more buttons being pressed and a giggle. Then she hears a man in the background say, "Oh Ava, Ava. That's not yours sweetie. Give that to Uncle Jess." Rory smiles softly as she realizes who the little girl is. She hears her try to say his name, but it adorably comes out as 'unc yes!' She hears him take the phone and say

"Thanks little punk," and then more clearly, "Hello?"

"Jess! Why do you call her little punk? She sounds precious."

"Because she is a little punk. She answers my phone, touches my computer with her sticky fingers, and she won't get off my chair," he complains but she can hear the small grin in his voice.

"You love it, Uncle Jess," she teases him.

"Ugh, I told Matt not to have her call me that. I don't even see her that often. It's too Full House."

"You totally adore her. It's sweet," Rory says softly, and she has a budding vision of a possible future that both warms and wounds her, "I noticed you're like that with Doula too."

"Hardly. She's ten years old."

"You adore her."

"No, I just look out for her. Make sure her loopy parents don't screw her up too much."

"I remember how you were with Clara at the winter festival. You used to despise kids."

"That had much more to do with who her brother was than her being a child."

"Jess likes kids now," she muses, and something pulls in her chest.

"Yeah, yeah," she can practically hear his eye roll. "Anyway, sorry I didn't call yet, I was waiting for Matt to get here so I could take a break. Stores been busy for the holidays I guess."

"That's great, it's nice to be busy," Rory replies wistfully.

"You doing okay?" Jess asks, catching the despondency in her voice, "what have you been up to?"

"Lots of exciting things. Organizing my apartment, exploring the neighborhood, oh and I went grocery shopping this morning."

"Really? And what does the Gilmore grocery list consist of other than pop tarts?"

"I resent that. I got a variety of items if you must know."

"Uh huh, any of which don't have sugar listed as one of the top three ingredients?"

"Wow I move to New York and I still have my very own Luke. This must be what my mom's life is like all the time now," she jokes but she quickly realizes the implication of her words and places a palm to her forehead.

"Right. And look how happy they are together."

It's something that would typically be a sarcastic comment from him, but in this case it's chillingly sincere.

"Jess…"

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay."

"It's not. You're…going through enough. And I'm sorry that Ava answered the phone."

"Why?"

"I don't want to trigger you. Isn't that part of why you left Pleasantville? Too many happy little brady brunch brats running around?"

She wants to laugh but it gets caught in her throat, "It's okay Jess. Children are allowed to exist in the world. I'm not turning in to Miss Trunchbull or anything."

"You sure? Because I still have a mean scowl. I can keep them away from you."

She chuckles, and her heart warms at his care for her.

"I'm sure. Anyway, I don't want to take up your whole break. I was being mocked by my to do list and just needed a reprieve."

"Oh and what's on the patented Rory Gilmore list today?"

She sighs, "It's been the same for days unfortunately. Write, figure out how and when to talk to mom and Luke, and look for work. All intimidating."

She can hear a smile in Jess's voice, "You can do it." On the other end, Jess is visibly relieved that she is at least thinking about these things.

"I don't know about that."

"Hey, have you ever made a list that you haven't been able to tackle?"

"Well, Lane and I made a list of what our adult lives would be like in elementary school. We said we would live in a house made of cheese together. So, to answer your question, yes."

He chuckles, "That was just childish oversight. How were you to know that architects wouldn't have accomplished such a feat by now?"

"It is surprising, have you seen what they've done in Dubai? Maybe Lane and I are living in the wrong country."

"It's possible, maybe you should call her up and strategize."

Rory doesn't laugh, she quietly says, "I haven't talked to Lane since before the miscarriage. She doesn't know about the baby or anything. Well, she did know about Logan."

"Why don't you call her then? Add it to your to do list, it will be any easy one to cross off."

"I know I should."

"Lane's supportive. She will be there for you."

"Yeah," Rory whispers, and suddenly a memory pops into her head, "did I ever tell you that she thought your coming to Yale to whisk me away was romantic?"

"Huh," he exhales, "Felt more manic than romantic."

His tone makes her feel like she shouldn't have brought it up, and she's at a loss for a response.

"It's not…I'm not going to do that to you again," he asserts, with a hint of agony in his voice.

"It's okay. I know you had the best intentions."

"I want you to know though," he insists, "In case that's anywhere on your 'Jess pros and cons' list. I won't scare you."

She sighs but digresses, "Who says you have your own pros and cons list?"

"I would be genuinely gutted if not. I know you use them for only the most important decisions in your life." Her chest aches and she opens her mouth to respond to his candid remark, but he doesn't let her, "I'm going to go. Gotta grab something to eat and then get back to work. Bye Rory."

"Okay. Bye Jess."

She returns to her journal and flips to a page that has been there since seeing him at the gazette this Summer. His name is at the top of it, with two columns underneath. He was right, as usual. It makes her feel a little presumptuous, but truthfully it wasn't that she assumed she had a chance to be with him. Especially with what she had going on with Logan and with Paul at the time. And the fact that she didn't know what his romantic life was like aside from, 'nothing permanent'. But it was something that her mind demanded she work on. She had a rudimentary hope that their story wasn't over, and creating the list was her indulgence into that hope. A place to keep her quiet desires, ones that she still has yet to fully develop and acknowledge.

She adds his comment to the 'Pros' section, and before she can think too much about it, she also adds 'loves kids'.

Jess is supposed to come over in a few days to look over anything new she's written. Since their phone call the previous week, his words have managed to strike up some sort of creative energy within her. She walks to the small second bedroom she's turned sort of into an office to get to work.

She sits down and reads through the last chapter she wrote. It covered her graduation from Chilton, which she included a copy of her valedictorian speech for now. She hasn't decided yet if it's a loveable, heartwarming detail or too narcissistic. It discusses the backpacking trip to Europe she took with her mom that summer. She smiles reading anecdotes like her mom sweet talking and tipping two random men on the streets of Madrid to carry their stuff, and Rory accidentally ordering a side of cheese with her coffee in Rome. Lorelai offending a baker in Paris by saying her croissant tasted 'just like ones I get in the diner at home'; he spewed curse words at them and they left laughing about how he looked like the angry chef in The Little Mermaid. She aches for her mom to be there, reading over her shoulder and giggling at their memories. But she also remembers the heartache she felt that whole summer in the wake of Jess disappearing. She doesn't touch much on that in the book because she doesn't want it to overshadow the happy times with her mom.

She realizes her next chapter will be her first year at Yale. While not her worst year of college, surely dropping out and getting arrested beat that, it was full of unpleasant memories. She takes a deep breath and soldiers on, determined to rake through her mind and heart to get it done and over with. She writes how the year started off completely on the wrong foot, and that should have been an omen to her. She was always diligent about schedules and dates and times and yet somehow she was a whole week off. Her and her mom had to hurriedly run all over the place to get everything she would need for school as soon as they returned from Europe. It was a whirlwind and a blur until she was actually at school, taking a tour and getting moved in. She had no time to mentally prepare herself to separate from her home and her mom. It was terrifying when Lorelai was about to leave her alone at that great big college with her new, and old, roommates. She still remembers that feeling today; she felt like she had been dropped on a remote island and told to fend for herself. It wasn't that dramatic of course but after living the first eighteen years of her life comfortably with her best friend by her side, it was painfully intimidating to separate. Her stomach clenches as the thought runs through her head that she's purposely separating them now. No doubt the years caused them to drift ever so slightly apart. But, if someone had told freshman Rory she would be avoiding and keeping imperative information from her mom now, she would have an existential crisis to say the least.

She takes a quick coffee break to avoid letting her emotions slide from her death grip on them. But it's in vain as tears fall into her large white mug, fittingly inscribed with "Yale" on the side of it.

Recounting that year of her life proves to be more dreadful than she expected. It's a torturous coincidence that it was one of the loneliest years of her life and she is dredging up all of those feelings in her current state of loneliness. It was a jarring change to not be surrounded by people that already love her. Mixed into that was the deep sadness she refused to acknowledge as an empty space where Jess once was. Moving on was hard and not because she didn't want to. But because no one could measure up to the chasmic connection she had with Jess. She wanted to date but how could she move on to something so mundane and trivial when she had something so deep and serious? It could have been symbiotic, he filled her heart with a love she had never experienced before. But instead of accepting that love back, he put up his defenses, dragged a knife through it and ran. He left her with a confusing dichotomy of what relationships should and shouldn't be.

She's plucking at a throbbing vein, and as she hears an animalistic sob escape her, she realizes she has torn herself up enough for one day.

The walls feel like they are closing in on her, like they know she's alone and are asking her to take up less space. She needs to get away from herself and decides to go for a walk. It's blistering cold outside but the sensation is a welcome distraction from her mental turmoil. She walks for blocks until she has become so numb from the cold she can't feel her face. She sees a tavern ahead and decides to seek refuge there before turning back around. She sits herself at the mostly empty bar and orders a hot toddy.

She sips her steamy drink and feels it brings a much needed warmth within her. She looks around the tavern, covered in Christmas lights and comfortingly cozy. She takes a deep breath and the cinnamon of her drink mixed with the holiday haven surrounding her, makes her think of Christmases at home. Both in Stars Hollow, and Hartford. She smiles but it wavers. There's no annual Gilmore Christmas party any more. No apple tarts. No gathering around the dinner table, listening to her mom say as many things as possible to make Emily explode. The knowing look her and her grandfather would share. She tries to smile but it turns into a grimace mixed with watering eyes. Why can't she get out of this headspace?

Her phone starts ringing and she's somehow not surprised to see it's her grandmother.

"Hi Grandma."

"Hi Rory, how are you? How's your new place? Do you like the furniture I sent you? I was waiting for you to call but I figured you're a young woman with a busy social calendar, you probably just didn't get the chance yet."

Rory cringes slightly, "Sorry Grandma. I've been unpacking boxes and getting settled. But I've been listening to Grandpa's records you gave me."

"That's nice," Emily says in a softer tone than Rory expected, "that would make your Grandfather smile."

Rory smiles slightly and feels her body relax into her seat at the bar.

"I love the furniture. My place is great, I live near so many great coffee shops and restaurants."

"Well do make sure you venture out and see more of New York than just Queens, I shudder to think of the quality of restaurants outside of Manhattan." Rory rolls her eyes but smiles wider, "I've been ordering out every day and haven't got sick yet."

"That's something I suppose. Make any new friends? Do you want me to go through my contacts and see if any of my friend's have grandchildren your age in the area? Any one of them would surely show you a good time."

"Thanks Grandma, I'm okay."

"Surely you need a friend, or do you just speak to your mother on the phone every day and act like you never moved at all? I hope not, that would be so pointless."

"No, I have friends. Don't worry about me. How are you?"

She sighs, "I'm alive and that's more than can be said for a lot of people. It will be nice to have your mother and Lucas here for Christmas. Am I going to be graced with your presence as well? Would be great for your mother to have someone to bounce her insanity off of instead of directing it at me."

Rory chuckles but hesitates before responding. There is no logical reason she can't but she can envision Luke and her mom fussing over her and Emily noticing and then everything going worse than it already is. She really needs to fix this soon.

"No, I don't think I will make it. Sorry Grandma, but don't worry. Mom can annoy Luke instead of you."

Emily scoffs, "From your mouth to god's ears. That's too bad, I do miss you."

"I miss you too."

"You know, I was flipping through some society magazine yesterday and saw photos from Logan's wedding, did you see any of them? It looked so tacky! Way too much lace. I'm sure it was all Shira's idea, people think she has taste but all she does is spend enough money on things that people value it on principle. You know, the more time that goes by, the more I realize that you made the right decision not marrying him."

Rory stiffens and sits up straight. She quietly asks, "Did they look happy?"

"Happy? Who cares? They're basically the Charles and Diana of their peers. Hopefully without the infidelity and death," Rory recoils at this statement.

"And, this is just between you and me because they haven't announced it yet, a dreadful old friend called to harp to me about how she got the scoop yesterday; Odette is pregnant already! It's awfully suspicious, I don't see how it could have resulted from their honeymoon. They've hardly been married over a month for goodness sake."

Rory doesn't know how it's possible, but her mood has suddenly sunk even deeper. Her heart feels torn and her stomach like she just swallowed a boulder. She's embarrassed that tears are pricking at her eyes. She shouldn't care, she didn't want that with him. She knew they would have children, she's a freaking heiress and he's a Huntzberger. It's all part of the 'dynastic plan'. But she can't reconcile those thoughts with her feelings.

She compartmentalizes the part of her brain doing math to see how close in age his two children would have been.

"Wow. Um yeah that's pretty fast." She stammers out.

"Yes, well, I'm sure both Shira and Mitchum are behind that as well. Anyway, if that were you I realize I would never see you or my grandchildren! London is so far and I hardly enjoy traveling at this age. I wouldn't be part of your pregnancy at all, it would be terrible. You made the right choice, Rory."

She is openly crying now, the unintentional double meaning of her grandmother's words stabbing at her heart, but she takes a deep breath and chokes out, "Thank you. I have to go. Bye grandma, I love you."

"Oh okay, well call me on Christmas at least. Bye Rory, love you too."

She drops her phone on the bar and puts her face in her hands to sob without disturbing other patrons. She forces deep breaths until she's well enough to stand up. She throws money on the counter and bundles up to leave. She hikes quickly back towards her apartment, the cold wind intensifies with her speed and so does her misery.

Back at her apartment she rips her layers off and jogs to her room. She gets under the covers of her bed, turning on her heated blanket. Once in her toasty cocoon, she allows herself to lose control until she's exhausted from emotional release and falls asleep. She dreams of two children, separated by a continent and separated by a marriage. Both asking when their dad will be home.