The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. Logan had a dynastic plan to marry a French heiress. Rory had a plan to raise their daughter alone. Fate had other ideas. Set six months after the final four words in 'A Year in the Life.' Rogan.Ro
"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Rory Gilmore had been waiting with rapt anticipation for this moment all morning long.
After a seemingly never-ending night of restless sleep, back aches, and slight nausea, she had finally made it through to the other side. The sun was up, the sound of birds chirping filled the morning air, and the single most anticipated moment of Rory's new daily routine was fresh at hand. She looked forward to this moment every single day. But after the night of pure exhaustion she'd had, this morning's ritual seemed even more paramount than usual.
She was taking her time to savor this moment. The fact that it was the one and only time she would be able to indulge in such a prominent and important life event for the next twenty-four hours left her relishing every single second of the anticipation and delight that accompanied it.
She ran her fingertips lightly over the crisp cardboard. The warmth bursting from underneath the surface coursed through her entire body, giving her chills and a sense of euphoria akin to standing in front of a warm fire after getting caught in a cold rain. A small trail of steam rose from the small opening on the plastic lid adorning the top of her cup. She breathed it in. The moist air coated her lungs and the smell traveled through her olfactory senses straight into her soul. The smell alone was a healing balm unlike anything else.
Slowly, she brought the cup upward. She wrapped her lips around the lid, caressing it like a kiss to a gentle lover. She tilted her head ever so slightly backward, welcoming the feeling of unity with the universe she felt while the warm bitter liquid was about to coat her tongue. Contact was made. And, then, as quickly as the drink hit her taste buds, it was spewing out of her mouth and into the air around her.
Betrayal.
Deception.
Sedition.
"Hey, preggo!"
Her mother's voice broke her reverie. Somewhere in her disillusioned state, she must have whipped her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed.
"Will you please tell your husband for the millionth time that I am allowed to have one cup of regular coffee a day?!"
Lorelai's response was a mewl of sympathy. "Oh no, sweets. Don't tell me you got Danesed again."
"I've been looking forward to this cup of coffee all night!" Rory cried.
"I'm sorry, hun," Lorelai commiserated. "I know it's frustrating, but he's just going overboard to make sure that you and baby stay healthy."
"Well, baby is not going to be very healthy when her mom falls over dead from exhaustion and caffeine withdrawal," Rory countered.
"Rough night again?" Lorelai asked. Rory sighed.
"I just can't get comfortable. My back was killing me all night."
