enjoy xoxo

disclaimer: I own nothing

She wakes the next morning feeling slightly renewed. It's early since she passed out before 9pm the previous night and her stomach is rumbling. Somehow this Gilmore ate nothing but a pop tart the day before. Nonetheless, she is energized by the sudden need for defiance. To what, she cannot, or won't, pinpoint. But she knows she has to do something to prove she's okay. She decides to venture into Manhattan for breakfast and to scope out work opportunities.

She puts on gray trousers, a turtleneck and a burgundy sweater to stay warm. She bundles up completely and leaves her apartment, resolved to make a change in her life. She grabs a coffee at a local shop then takes the subway to midtown Manhattan.

She spends three hours hoofing it to various news companies, taking frequent coffee and food cart breaks. Her resolve was worn down little by little with each "we're not hiring right now" and "email your resume and someone will call you if we're interested" which she knows from experience is unlikely. By noon, her extremities are numb, her turtleneck is choking her and any illusions she had from this morning are buried. She accepts defeat and takes the subway home. Jess texts her to confirm that the next day is still good for her. As if I have anything else going on, she thinks. She sends confirmation and he replies that he will bring groceries and make them dinner. It's enough to make her smile again, and she takes it as a sign to try and write some more.

With the failures of her morning fresh on her mind, she decides to get into her academic struggles at Yale. She enrolled in five classes, just like her grandfather. Keep the Gilmore name proud (maybe she needed to consider that the world treats men differently, especially then, and it's likely he scraped by on his charm and charisma. Logan is proof enough that it's possible). Not being as good as her predecessor was absolutely not an option. Even if it came at the expense of her being able to actually learn anything. How could she process and retain that much information and recollect to her professors at the level they expected of her? She couldn't, and she didn't as was evidence of the paper that made her question everything. It guts her to revisit those feelings of worthlessness. If she's not as good as Richard, as others and herself expect her to be, she's not good. She felt like everything people in her life had said about her, about her intelligence and capabilities, were lies or fabrications. And if they weren't, those people must have been blinded by their love for her. She felt wholly inadequate; a mirror of herself now. That summer before and first year at Yale were a challenge to her belief that she could handle anything. She may have seemed to handle the Jess situation well on the outside, but the truth is she never dealt with it at all. She buried it and hoped it would go away (this would lead to the mistake that was Dean). And she couldn't handle her class load which felt like it meant she couldn't handle college. She felt like a failure, just as she does now. Can't get a job, can't keep a baby, can't get up enough courage to tell the fucking truth. She's buckled under the pressure of herself.

She thinks of what Jess said to her recently about judging herself against an impossible standard. But she built that standard based on her mother, her grandfather, even her grandmother. So how could it be impossible if they are living proof of what she should be? She thinks she must not be good enough or not trying hard enough or something.

Or maybe she's set herself up to go so high that she's destined to fail.

She's crying again as she seems to do now every time she revisits her past. All she can see is a map of mistakes and how they all built off one another to get her to this strange and depressing place in her life. That deep hole of loneliness inside her is making itself known again. She doesn't want to sit and let it wreck her, not today. But the only person she knows nearby is Jess and he just returned from Philadelphia, so she knows he's busy.

She decides to occupy herself with a bath and a book. She's surrounded by bubbles and reading Madam Bovary. She hates to say she understands the desperate loneliness Emma Bovary feels in her life. A loneliness that leads to her going after passion and pleasure outside of her marriage. While it ends disastrously for Madam Bovary, her sexual escapades are enthralling to read about. She wants to feel that passion and excitement, even that salacious feeling of secret love. She wants to feel anything except alone and depressed. Putting the book down and looking over her bath, most bubbles gone and skin peeping out in different areas, she gets an idea. Maybe if she entices him, Jess will drop whatever he is doing to come over. It worked with Logan. There were nights when she didn't want to be alone, but it was late at night in London, and she felt like she couldn't disturb him without offering something in exchange. It always worked, and she likes to believe it benefited them both.

She picks up her phone and takes a tasteful picture of her body in the bathtub. The tops of her breasts above the water, the beginning of her nipples visible, the apex of her legs can be mostly seen with few bubbles on top. She sends it to Jess with a text that says "Wanna come over? Will be walking around naked soon ;)". She puts her phone on the floor and takes a breath. She finds it hard to decipher if she's truthfully lustful or forcing it for some company. She grabs the large glass of wine from the floor and takes a huge gulp hoping to quiet the noise in her head.

Ten anxious minutes pass before her phone is ringing. She sighs in relief to see its Jess.

"Hey," she answers.

"Sorry, did Rory Gilmore just send me a dirty text or are you in some sort of twisted hostage situation?"

She laughs, "I'm not a prude you know."

"Oh, I know that" she can hear his smirk, but his tone changes as he says, "I just thought you were joking before when you said you would text me any time you're going to be naked."

"What? You didn't like the picture?"

"I liked the picture, everyone I've walked past in the last five minutes could tell you that," he quickly assures her, and she can tell he's outdoors by the wind blowing between his words. She blushes.

"It's just…I hate that I'm about to say this, and will probably beat myself up for it for the rest of time but, why do I feel like I'm a booty call right now?"

She gapes at this and fumbles to get out of the tub, wanting to cover herself up.

"You're not! Why do you feel that way? I just thought it would excite you, and you could come over here and we could be together. We haven't seen each other in a couple of weeks."

"I know, and I do want to, but I have work to do. And… I don't know Rory. Something is holding me back."

"Jess. I'm feeling a little vulnerable right now. I just sent you something I thought you would find incredibly sexy and now you're making me feel like it was a mistake. I've only done this for one other person before! I'm not a prude but I'm not a vixen."

"I'm so sorry," he groans, clearly frustrated with himself, "I don't mean to make you feel that way. I'm grateful and I definitely enjoyed it. But…listen, can you come over to my place? I just got here, and I'm going to try and get as much work done as I can until you come over, if you want to. We should talk. Less will get lost in translation in person." He hopes.

Rory thinks about it while drying off, then whispers, "Okay."

"Okay, I'll see you soon. And Rory, you're…unbelievably sexy," he pauses, "I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Don't doubt that."

Crimson creeps across her cheeks, "Quoting Neruda, you're playing dirty. I'll see you soon."

She arrives at his door an hour later, casually dressed in jeans and a sweater. She thought about something sexier, to hopefully put him in overdrive instead of wanting to talk, but ultimately decided it wasn't worth possibly being turned down. He opens his door and lets her in. She's closed up, arms crossed and smile tight. So he leans in and kisses her cheek, leading her to his living room.

"I need to spend another twenty minutes editing this painful manuscript about falling in love with a cult leader. I'm not sure what the guys were thinking taking on this Carolyn Layton reincarnate," he grumbles, then puts a hand on Rory's shoulder, "Anyway, make yourself at home, Matt sent me back with plenty of leftover pasta and there's wine on the counter, and," he leans in and whispers, "I believe there's even some Cherry Garcia in the freezer with your name on it." He leaves her with a small smile and walks back to his office.

She feels too weird to do anything. A little nervous, a little self-conscious, a little angry. Well, she thinks, maybe some Cherry Garcia wouldn't hurt after all. She helps herself to the pint and pours herself the last bit of coffee in his coffee pot. It's not hot but it will do. She sits and waits in his kitchen, comforting herself with ice cream and the elixir of life.

Twenty-two minutes later, he finds her in the kitchen. She has had time now to think about their phone call, think about what he said to her, and her anger has gained momentum.

"You made me feel so self-conscious Jess!" She exclaims before he even reaches the table. He stops in his tracks and his face drops. He tugs at it his hair.

"I'm an idiot. I'm sorry. You're…a fucking goddess and I'm a mortal plebeian."

It's enough to settle her, even put a hint of a smile on her face.

"Then what's going on?"

He takes a seat across from her and runs a hand through his hair.

"I'm not sure how to explain it without sounding like a dope."

"You're going to have to try because everything said so far, except for the goddess thing, and maybe the Neruda quote, has felt a little condescending. It's not fair for you to say that you want me but turn me away when I'm offering like that."

He sighs and looks into her eyes, "You are totally right. It's not fair to you, but…Rory, it's also not fair to me in a way. That's why I wanted to talk."

She gives him a look to continue.

"Well, we're supposed to be working on something here together, right? Between us?"

She doesn't respond, just sits back in the chair and pulls at her sweater sleeves.

"So. The three times we have been…intimate so far came after deep conversations. Talking. Spending time together. Supporting each other. That makes sense to me for us. You know what I mean? We have this great spoken, and implicit, connection in the presence of each other. It's our language, it draws us to each other, it always has."

She gives him a half shrug, half nod.

"You texting me out of the blue to hook up, when we aren't in any sort of defined relationship, doesn't make sense to me. It feels like you're trying to scratch an itch or….something else is going on and you're looking for company."

She averts her gaze away from him, staring at the table. She doesn't want him to read her right now, but that action alone lets him know he's onto something.

"You mentioned only doing that with one other person. I'm sure you were in a serious relationship with that person. Right?"

She nods but won't look up.

"So then why would you do that with me when we haven't defined a damn thing? I don't want to cheapen what we have, what we're building. Can you understand that?"

"But doesn't it show you what you mean to me that you're only the second person I've done that with?"

"I don't know. Maybe I should see it that way, but for some reason I see it as a casual request for sex. And I don't want to be something casual with you. I'm not sure I could take it."

At this, she looks up at him. She sees the small crack of vulnerability in his face.

"Casual? You're not casual to me Jess."

He shrugs, "I don't know that because you haven't said it. I don't know much except we still feel something for each other. I don't know if you still have feelings for Logan, if you see a future for us, if you're even staying in New York for the long haul. I don't know what you want. And I know how ironic it is that all of this is coming from the 'whatever, wherever' guy, but Rory…I really don't want us to mess it up this time."

"But Jess, I've been dealing with a lot-" he places a hand over hers on the table.

"I know, and I've been letting you take the lead of this whole thing so far. And I don't expect you to have everything figured out right this second. But I wish you would think about it. You're good at denying your feelings and denying yourself what you want. You're good at not thinking about those things, or at least not doing anything about them. You know that right?"

She reluctantly nods.

"I just…I can't be the person that you turn to for sex when you feel lonely. You can turn to me for conversation, for company, even to yell at me if it makes you feel better. And maybe those situations do turn into us having sex, but that's different than you calling on me solely for that purpose. It's even sort of hurtful because I would be there for you in a second if you just tell me you're not doing well. I don't need to be enticed with your body or your wit."

Rory looks at him, her face looking unsure of the situation. "I'm…confused."

He nods and runs his hands over his face then meets her eyes again.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. Us writers tend to go about explaining things in too many words. I just need to say it directly," he takes a deep breath and gives her a pleading look, "I don't want to feel used."

Rory is hit with a wave of understanding. She closes her eyes as her memory flashes to her visit to him in Philly years ago. She gets it. She hurt him. Whether he's ever told her that or not, she can tell that she hurt him, and it must have been deep for him to feel this way now. Once again, the blinders of her selfishness have been lifted.

"I understand," she finally says, taking his hand in hers.

"You do?" His body language is on the brink of relief.

"I do," instead of forcing him to be even more vulnerable by bringing up Philadelphia, she relates to him in another way, "I was in a casual thing with…someone while I was at Yale. I thought I could do it, but I got tired of not feeling cared about, feeling like I had to be sexual and exciting to keep his attention. And also, in his case, he was seeing other women at the same time. So not exactly the same but…"

Jess's body relaxes and he squeezes her hand, "But enough that you understand."

She nods and decides to be honest with him, "I was lonely today. I don't know if I texted you out of desperation, sometimes I don't know what goes through my own head."

He sits back in his chair, regarding her kindly, "Happens to all of us."

"I was reading Madame Bovary in the tub-"

"That sounds like the start of my kind of porno," he winks, and she laughs.

"I wasn't doing anything dirty, besides texting you! I was reading the carriage scene, and I thought, I would kill to feel this thrill instead of…how I was feeling."

"Lonely?"

"And a little depressed. I worked on some difficult chapters for the book the last couple of days. It just…emptied me out."

He notices her eyes water and finds her other hand, so he is holding on to both tightly.

"I know the feeling."

"I know you do. Your profound writing is clear evidence of that." One side of his mouth quirks up and he rubs his thumb along the top of her hand.

"Some other stuff happened too. Grandma called me yesterday -"

"Say no more." Jess jokingly cuts her off with a nod of understanding. She laughs quietly and shakes her head.

"Anyway, she casually brought up that she saw Logan's wedding photos in a magazine and then she had to share the bombshell news with me that um," she stumbles over the words because the situation still has her in a bit of a chokehold, "that his wife, Odette, is…pregnant already," she starts crying, "and I don't know why that bothers me as much as it does. I didn't want that life with him, I don't want it."

Jess stands up and crouches next to her chair, she immediately leans over and places her arms around his neck.

"I don't want to feel this way," she whimpers. He smooths a hand repeatedly over her hair.

"It's a complex situation, Rory. Feelings will be complex too."

"But it's not. I ended it with him, he got married as he said he would and now they are having a baby. None of it should bother me, I knew it was all coming."

He quietly contemplates her situation while continuing to soothe her.

"I think it bothers you because she has everything that you could have had, even if you don't want it. It's like it's poking at the broken shell of yourself, taunting you when you're in a place of great uncertainty and feeling adrift." She sniffles and nods repeatedly into his shoulder.

"Yes, yes that's what it feels like. It feels like someone sticking a finger in a wound. But I don't want it to feel like that." Jess nods in understanding and kisses the side of her face.

"Rory, you were pregnant with his child too. And he didn't know, and no one is supposed to know…it's like you're this dark underworld to his current life and you feel like a…filthy secret. Right?" Rory bites her lip and nods as more hot tears fall from her eyes and onto the back of his gray t-shirt. She focuses on the watermarks, tracing them with her fingers as he continues to speak gently to her.

"She's living something that you lived too, but she gets to have it acknowledged and celebrated. And on top of that it was taken away from you."

She lets his words settle over her, calming down and sitting in silence for a few minutes. His legs start to feel numb, so he stands up but keeps her hands in his, and studies her face. She looks at him and softly says, "It feels like I don't get to grieve out loud."

He frowns, "You do get to grieve out loud to the people that matter. You just…won't."

Her tone of voice escalates as she tries to defend her crackling foundation of reasoning, "It doesn't feel right. I didn't go about any of it right, so why would grieving the way that I am be right?"

"When will you stop beating yourself over the head with your weird rationalities? Nothing is more correct than how you actually feel."

She just looks at him, unable to form a response.

"I know you understand what I'm trying to tell you," Jess continues, "You just won't allow yourself to do it."

She shakes her head to dismiss this point of conversation, "I didn't even get to the part where this morning I walked all over Manhattan looking for a job. No one wants me, still. I need something to make money while I'm writing."

He gives her a look of sympathy, "That sucks Rory. Do you want me to see if we have anything for you at Truncheon? Maybe you can write for the zine. Or, you were an editor at Yale, maybe we have some manuscripts we can pay you to help us edit. You interested in that?"

She shakes her head vehemently, "No, no. I can't ask you to do that for me -"

He rolls his eyes, "You're not asking. You never ask for help."

"Please Jess. I need to accomplish something on my own. You gave me the idea for the book, that was enough."

He sighs but decides it's not worth fighting about. A thought pops into his head and he says it before having the chance to filter himself, "Doesn't this guy Logan have some insane connection to journalism?"

Her body goes rigid, insane is a good word for it.

"Yes, it's practically an umbilical cord. But, please, don't go there. I mean it."

He lifts his hands in surrender, he catches the time on his watch.

"It's late. Do you want to stay here tonight? Subway gets scarier after dark. I'm talking A Clockwork Orange scary."

She shakes her head, "No thanks. I should go. I still have more to write before my editor comes over tomorrow."

He smiles, "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow." She nods and stands up. He walks her to the door and asks at its threshold, "Can I kiss you?" She breaks into a grin and nods happily. His strong arms go around her waist, and he locks her into a sweet, consuming kiss. It's over all too quickly and his hands are resting on her hips.

"Please text me that you got home safely." She nods and he leans in to peck her on the lips once more.

It's a lovely and dulcifying end to the day. The memory of his soft lips and his secure hold around her body is distraction enough from her previous roller coaster of thoughts. He kisses her just the same as he handles her emotional state; gentle but firm. She sleeps peacefully, the images in her dreams are undistinguishable to her, but she awakes the next morning tingling with warmth. It's a nice change, and she wishes she could let herself feel it all the time.

She gets out her diary to write out the details of yesterday. She adds to her to do list "think about future with Jess" then indented under that, "Tell him how you feel. Don't be a coward." She then gets up and starts her day. She puts on a pot of coffee, knowing she will need stamina to endure whatever emotions writing about her past assaults her with today. She hops in the shower while it brews. When she gets out a little while later, she hears her phone ringing but doesn't get to it in time. She shrugs and takes her time drying off, putting on her robe and slippers. As she pours herself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, her phone rings again. She finds it on the couch and picks it up. Her heart drops as she sees Logan displayed on the screen. She's too flummoxed to answer and it goes to voicemail again. She is still frozen, staring at her phone until it alerts her of a voicemail. She slowly clicks to listen.

Hey Ace, uh Rory. I have some news, I just wanted to tell you before it gets to Emily and then to you. Assuming it hasn't already. My mother has a big mouth, especially after five glasses of wine at a charity event with other socialites and they're all competing with each other to share the most impressive news about their grown-up kids. Anyway, call me. I…want you to hear it from me. I hope you're well, by the way. Goodbye Rory.

She doesn't call him back. She already knows what it's all about, so why put herself through that? She turns the sound off on her phone, takes a deep breath, and returns to her cup of coffee. She sips it slowly, staring at a wall in front of her. She doesn't want to call him back, but she is curious as to what he wants to say to her. Obviously that Odette is pregnant, but what else? Why does he feel the need to call and tell her at all? A thought occurs to her that maybe he's scared, and he's hoping for something to come from this phone call. Whether he wants to use her for reassurance that everything will be okay or wants to try to get her into some sort of affair again, she doesn't want any part of it. She isn't stable enough to be any of that for him, nor does she want it.

And what would his wife think about him calling what she thinks is just an ex to share that news? No, Rory doesn't want to do anything to make their relationship suffer. She deserves to have a faithful husband and happy family. She did everything right, she followed the plan, she married Logan and is having his baby. None of that should be ruined for her. Rory wants to stay far away from it. She's experienced the humiliation of ruining a marriage; the deep seeded guilt for hurting someone who didn't deserve it at all just because she wanted something she couldn't have. And it would all be at a higher level, much more public than the Stars Hollow town square, if her affair with Logan was ever found out. She wouldn't be able to hide from it, not to mention it would probably cost the Huntzberger's a lot of money. Hmm that part actually doesn't bother her so much.

She reaches the end of her coffee cup and pours another. She moves to her office to start writing again. She's still on the first year at Yale, and unfortunately all remaining parts are going to be grueling to get through. She decides to ease herself into it by recounting The Firelight Festival. She loves all the quirkiness of Stars Hollow, and all the ridiculous things they find to celebrate. It was really the perfect place for her mother to settle with Rory, it's a community that completely mirrors her personality. Fun, eccentric, loving, kind, and of course always down to throw a great party. But as Rory got older, the festivals became more significant to her in other ways. Like the firelight festival her first year at Yale. She ran away from Jess the same way she was trying to run away from her feelings for him. Forcing herself to date, denying that him leaving affected her, denying that seeing or hearing about him affected her.

Rory had convinced even herself that she was over him. When she ran into him in town and he ran away from her, as if she was the one that ruined him, it pissed her off but being Rory, she wasn't going to do anything about it. Until he finally tried to approach her at the festival. She was in line for food, minding her own business; enjoying a sense of peace from being surrounded by people happy to see her. She was blindsided by him in a moment, and immediately all she could think of was how angry he had made her that day. And maybe it was built off of all the other anger she felt towards him but denied was there for so long. So, rather childishly, she notes now as an adult, she ran away from him. He asked her where she learned to run like that, she still has no idea. It was instinct. It was…fight or flight. And when flight failed, she turned to fight. She began speaking to him so combatively, everything that came out of her mouth soaked in self-righteousness, but also, she knows now, pain. She needed to move on, because this man was unreliable, he was unstable, and he wasn't going to be what she wanted him to be. So, she needed to move on. She had it in her head that she was so close to doing that, but of course he had to pop up in her life and threaten all the hard work she had put in to forgetting him (she knows now that she didn't really put it any work to do that other than suppressing thoughts of him).

And what does he say to her after she hurdles all of that frustration at him?

I love you.

It still makes her whole body shiver today thinking about it.

His words were so incongruent with what she was expecting that they left her frozen in shock. She doesn't even blame him for running away. She would have too in his situation; a person can only stand there with their heart on their sleeve for so long without any sort of reaction.

This moment with Jess showed her a couple of things: he was maturing. He was not the same person that left earlier that year. It was confounding because on one hand it made her happy that he was able to say that to her, put himself out there to her. But on the other hand, it meant that maybe leaving was the right thing for him, and, at the time, that was a hard pill to swallow.

It was also proof, she thinks, that he heard her on the phone at graduation. She loved him, but she wasn't going to pine. He finally reciprocated those words to her, and maybe leaving promptly was his acknowledgment that he respects her decision to move on. But he still told her he loved her; he needed her to know. Perhaps it was selfless in a way.

Lastly, it showed her that she still had feelings for him after all.

So then what would she have said if he stuck around and let her process? She wants to think she would say it back, that they would have shared a beautiful kiss and started to figure things out. But she knows herself at least a little bit, and she is sure she would have peppered him with a million questions.

She takes a break from writing as she daydreams about the various paths this moment of her life could have led her down. It could have meant dating him again, and consequently losing her virginity to Jess. And perhaps they would have lasted long enough that Logan would have never entered the picture, at least in the capacity that he did. Maybe she would have never dropped out of Yale and gone through that dark period of her life. These thoughts make her feel an existential longing for everything that could have been, the tears that seem to renew themselves at the speed of light are fogging her vision again.

But she dives back in because all those things she dreams about Jess are unlikely given the second encounter she had with him at the end of the school year. She writes of how she felt that desperate pull from him again, as he came into her dorm room shouting proclamations of forever love and a future together with the stipulation that they needed to live somewhere else. It scared her; how did he go from seeming evolved months ago and suddenly he's back to the boy that tried to get past her belt in Kyle's bedroom the previous year? It gave her the feeling that he thought he was losing her, and he was frantically trying to get her to see that she belongs with him.

She is sure that it had something to do with the man at her door when Jess decided to surprise her. Seeing Dean made him revert to his teenage self, and maybe he did feel like he was losing her. Kind of like when he ran after her at Kyle's party just to see her taking comfort with Dean. But neither man had any claim on her, of their own accords mind you, and that made her frustrated with them both. She took it out on Dean by insisting that he had to leave, and then she took it out on Jess when he begged her to leave with him. They made their beds; they didn't want to be with her. What made either of them think she owed them a place in her life?

But that's not all true, is it? She was an idiot; Dean should not have been there. She could have called Paris, Lane, Sookie or even her grandparents. They would have surely sent her a cab or came and picked her up. But she chose to call Dean. And this is after leaning on him for support with her Yale drama. She knew deep down that he still held a torch for her, and she took advantage of that for her own comfort; to feel less lonely, to feel wanted. She wonders what Jess would have said to her had Dean not been at the door when he got there. Would it have kept her from making one of the biggest mistakes of her life?

Dean suddenly became her sanctuary. He was everything that Jess was not, and he was everything that she thought she deserved, not his wife. The lies and fabrications she told herself to feel better about continuing the emotional affair she was having with Dean, which would quickly turn physical, makes her feel nauseous. She even pitted him and Jess against each other, asking him if he cares because he doesn't want Jess to hurt her. Like he had any right to that feeling in the first place.

It's so clear now everything she ignored and denied then. Even if Dean was unhappy in his marriage, it was his responsibility to fix that on his own. She should never have accepted that as proof that what they were doing was in any way okay. She let a married man take her virginity, and inevitably wrecked his marriage more than it already was. It was disrespectful to her, to Dean, to Lindsay, to everything her mother ever taught her.

The waves of self-loathing are hitting so intensely today. Her whole body is shaking as she tries to get through this disastrous tale. It's destroying her, and the thought that she will have to go through this all again later in her book…because she didn't learn her lesson.

Just because Logan insisted he wasn't in love with his fiancée, does not erase the promise he made to her. Like Dean, he had a weak spot for Rory, and she again took advantage of that. She believed it was alright, that she was grieving her grandfather and she was allowed to take solace as she saw fit.

It breaks her heart as she acknowledges that information. She had hidden it from her mental view since their affair started. She used her grandfather's death to justify sleeping with an engaged man. Her grandfather. A man of honesty and loyalty; a family man. She's officially sunken to the bottom of the treacherous ocean that is her life.

She can't do this. She can't keep taking a shovel to her heart. She can't keep digging through her messes, not in her current state of mind.

She slams her laptop closed and slowly walks to her living room. She lays herself out on the couch and begins to cry again.

Hours later she wakes up on the couch, still in her robe, to a knock at her door. She gets up and opens it to let Jess in.

"Hi Jess." He inspects her for a moment before walking in the door. He's bundled up in winter clothes and carrying a few grocery bags.

"Are you okay?" He asks as he places the bags on the counter.

She nods, "Yeah. I'm okay. Why?"

He takes off his coat and gloves, placing them over a chair and turning back to face her.

"Well, for one thing you just answered the door in a robe. And you look…off."

She looks herself over, "Crap. I totally forgot to change. I'll be right back."

He nods, "Okay…I'll start working on dinner. Frog legs okay?"

She squints and jerks her head, taken aback. "Frog legs?! The little animals that hop around minding their own business?"

He smirks, "Just making sure you're still here on earth with me. I'm just making tacos. Nothing gourmet."

She smiles, "Much better. I love tacos. Make them extra spicy?"

"Of course. No fun if you can feel your tongue while you're eating." That gets her to chuckle and then she runs off to her room to get changed.

She takes her time, not wanting to face Jess again until she's sure she looks more normal. She takes her robe off and hangs it on the back of her bedroom door. She catches her naked body in the mirror. She places a hand on her lower belly; she imagines a bump. There would be a bump by now, right? She thinks, counting the days back. She would already be at three months, so there would surely be some sort of protrusion. She gulps as she realizes the amount of time that has passed since the miscarriage. She's been so wrapped up in her past mistakes that she neglected the one currently taking place. Can't do anything right now. Get dressed. Put on makeup. Go have dinner with Jess.

She nods to herself and goes to the closet. She picks out a white sweater and a pair of black jeans. She finds a pretty white bra and a pair of small, silky underwear to match; she never knows what will happen when her and Jess share the same space for an elongated period of time (or is it that she does know?). Once she's dressed, she sits down at a small vanity that was gifted to her by her grandmother. It was Lorelai's when she was a teenager and had been sitting in the basement since she left their home. It makes Rory smile inside every time she sees it to have a piece of her mom's life in her room. She was so strong, and so independent at such a young age. No matter what she does, Rory doesn't think she will ever measure up to that.

She puts on a light layer of makeup; tinted moisturizer, blush and some lip gloss. She gives herself a look over, approving of everything before she heads back out to the kitchen. Jess turns from the stove to greet her.

He grins, "I like the lip gloss. Flavored?"

Half her mouth perks up, "Come find out."

"You don't have to tell me twice," he mutters as he leans over the counter to capture her lips with his. He steps back and licks his mouth, pretending to decipher the flavor and says, "I think I need another taste." She beams as he leans over to kiss her again, this time his hand holds the side of her face, and his fingers lightly play with her hair. He pulls away and nods.

"Coconut. I was expecting cherry."

"I stopped using cherry after high school. It was time to grow up."

"Ah, yes, on to tropical fruits. Very adult," he teases, "dinner is almost done. Wanna open up all the toppings I brought?"

"Oh, yes and I have a bottle of red in the cabinet. I'll pour us some. And I'll put some music on!"

"And here I thought I was trying to impress you tonight," Jess winks at her, she smiles and places one more kiss on his lips before running to her bedroom to get the record player. She grabs "London Calling" and sets it to play in the living room. As the first chords blare out, Jess turns to look at her with a big, genuine smile. She returns it with a little shrug, I know what you like. Rory sets up the kitchen counter for their dinner, she uses it in lieu of taking up more space in her apartment with an actual table. Her and Jess move seamlessly around each other, singing along to The Clash and sipping their wine. They both think about the possibility of having this more often in their lives. Neither will say it out loud.

"This is so good! Although, it was very Luke of you to switch ground beef for turkey."

He shrugs, "Nothing to do with health. I just think it tastes better."

"You might be on to something," she surmises, as she takes another big bite of a taco, "and you made this guacamole yourself? From scratch? Like a chef?!" she ponders, mouth full of food. He laughs, "Rory it's just guacamole. You mash up an avocado and add some spices. I do have a secret ingredient, but otherwise you could do it, I promise."

"Oh, I don't want to mash things. And I should not be told any cooking secrets, I'm not worthy. I will leave that all to you."

He smiles happily, envisioning cooking a thousand meals for her, "Okay. Deal."

He pauses before asking a question that he feels is terribly needy, but he can't help himself.

"Logan ever cook for you? Or Dean for that matter?"

Rory looks surprised as she gulps down some wine.

"Who's fishing for information now?" she teases him.

"It's not fishing if I ask a direct question."

"It is because you're not actually looking for the answer to that question. What you want is for me to say 'Jess no man has ever cooked me a meal before' with big googly eyes. Right?" she smiles, triumphantly. She feels vindicated when she sees a small blush creep onto his face.

"Whatever, don't answer it. I was just curious is all." He tries to hide his embarrassment behind his wine glass. She reaches across the table and puts a hand on his arm.

"Yes, Logan cooked for me once. Lobster. Mom and Luke were there too. I even chopped some vegetables and made a salad."

"Luke? How did that happen?"

"It was a weird time. Mom and him were in a weird place, and Logan invited me to Marhta's Vineyard for Valentine's Day. He asked them to join us."

"Martha's Vineyard? Luke?" Jess asks with an incredulous look. Rory chuckles.

"I know. Very weird. And I don't think the trip went well at all, for him and mom anyway. Luke seemed to feel…some type of way about the place, the money Logan spent on everything, and the fact that him and my mom were being treated to all of it."

Jess looks down at the table as understanding washes over him, "Sounds like he felt inferior. Like he was providing your mom with less than a kid was providing for you. That Danes pride." His face shows lightness, but the lack of emotion in his voice betrays him.

"That Danes pride, huh? Jess…you know none of that matters to me, right? It never has."

He shrugs, "I guessed, but I don't know it for sure. Could have changed."

Rory slumps in her chair, unsure of how to make him understand.

"You know me, Jess. Better than Logan, better than Dean. The thing about Logan was that he assumed flashy gifts and grand gestures were the only way to show someone you cared about them. Before we even started dating, he thought it would be freaking whimsical to show up to a lecture I was in and put on a sort of play about me breaking him and his friend's hearts."

"Oh, I'm certain you hated that," Jess chuckles.

"I was mortified. He didn't take anything seriously. It caused us problems, and it was confusing because I would often get swept up in his apologies. I would think he must really love me if he's willing to rent a whole coffee cart for me and send me a ton of beautiful flower arrangements. He even got my mom to write a letter to me recommending I give him a second chance."

"Shoot, I was thinking about doing that," Jess winks and Rory laughs but rolls her eyes.

"Anyway, he did some ugly things and would put shiny stuff in your face to make you forget about it. He said he loved me, but…he didn't show it when he 'thought' we broke up and he slept with a bunch of his sister's friends. That happened right before um…" she meets Jess's intent eyes and he whispers, "you came to Philly. Right?" She bites her lip and nods. "He's a jerk." Jess states, and it reminds her of the dance marathon. She breaks into a soft smile.

"And Dean…well. You already know his issues."

"You mean his Othello tendencies?"

"He was a little possessive. I wouldn't call him Othello."

"I seem to remember Logan shared some of those traits too."

"Sometimes. Definitely around you."

"Ah, yes. He's the Duke and I'm the penniless writer."

"You watched Moulin Rouge?"

"I did, I liked what they did with "Diamond Dogs". You know I like movies with good music."

"You're a hopeless romantic at heart, aren't you?"

"So did Dean ever cook for you?"

"No Mr. Evasive, he never cooked for me. I didn't put it in the book because it's too embarrassing to even think about now, but I went full Donna Reed for him once."

She sees Jess trying to suppress a smirk, "I do recall reading that he harped about a traditional woman, and how he liked the idea of a wife having dinner ready for her husband."

"Yes, and it was early on when we were dating, and we had this argument about oppressed housewives. Anyway, I found out Donna Reed was a writer and producer of her own show and thought I owed him something for giving him such a hard time."

"And what did you cook? I'm dying to know what I'm missing out on. Was it like the bid a basket meal you tricked me into trying?"

She giggles, "No, it was all idiot friendly stuff. Steak, but it was cooked already, and I just had to heat it up in the oven. Mashed potatoes from the box, green beans I put in the microwave, that sort of thing. And of course, every oppressed housewife's favorite dessert, Jello."

"Very impressive. And no one got food poisoning?"

She playfully shoves him, "No! It was a total success. Except I forgot to make the rolls. It was the first and last time I cooked dinner for a man."

"Well, I guess that's one thing Dean got that I didn't. Damn that Donna Reed."

She winces, "Yeah," then morosely she says, "I think now would be a good time to start going over the book."

He looks her over and then nods, "Okay. I'll clean up while you grab your laptop and get setup."

She nods and walks slowly to get her laptop from her office, wanting to delay the inevitable a little bit longer.