still. | a gilmore story

Chapter One

It had been almost 6 weeks since she uttered those four, very scary words to her mother.

Rory had been dividing her time between Stars Hollow and Nantucket to get some writing done on her book.

She loved going out to the ocean, breathing in that salty air. The waves crashing in the background seemed to help clear her mind, even if it was only for a short amount of time.

When she wasn't writing or filling her time with meals at Luke's, Rory found her thoughts wander to her pregnancy.

Only a handful of people knew. Of course Lorelai and Emily, and eventually her dad, Luke, and Lane.

They all had the same question for her after she spilled the news: Who is the father?

She gave the same answer every time: She wasn't telling anyone until the father knew himself.

And at this point, she wasn't sure when that was going to be.

It physically hurt her when she would think about him. She could still see the sadness in his eyes as he walked away from her 3 months ago.

And although the split was for the best, Rory couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she would have told him to come back to her.

She surely would not be in the position she was currently in, her mind in a constant state of sadness, heartache, and confusion. Or then again, maybe she would.

"Have you thought about names yet?" Lorelai asked as she sat at the kitchen table, coffee in hand and a poptart in front of her.

"You know, I actually haven't," Rory spoke honestly. She could hardly believe she was pregnant in the first place.

"Well you know us Gilmore women, we decide everything at the last minute," Lorelai quipped, referring to the fact that she named Rory in the hospital right after the birth.

Rory chuckled, "Yeah, I have no idea where I would even start."

Lorelai paused and took a sip from her mug, "Well, maybe you should decide if you are going to tell the father. If he knows, he might want some input."

Rory had thought about that also. She knew he would want some sort of input.

"I know, but I have no idea when or how I would do it," Rory's eyes cast down to look at the wooden table. She was now fidgeting with the sleeves of her pajama top, getting anxious as her and her mother had a version of the same conversation for the 10th time.

"You have to decide at some point, kid. Preferably before the baby is born, but that's just a thought."

Rory replayed the conversations she had with her mom, Luke and her dad.

Lorelai never really gave a hard and fast opinion, just giving Rory pros and cons to both.

Luke and her dad stressed that they thought she should tell the dad. Luke, on one hand, wasn't given the courtesy of knowing his own daughter until she was 12, and on the other hand there was Christopher. He had known of Rory, but had been in and out of her life. He told her he couldn't imagine what would have happened if Lorelai had never told him, an image he said he wouldn't put on anybody.

Rory pulled herself away from her thoughts, "I know. And I will. Just not yet. There are still some things I want to consider first."

Lorelai nodded, gripping her coffee cup tighter, "So what have you got planned today?"

"I think I'm going to have lunch with Paris, maybe stay with her for a day or two," Rory finally made eye contact with her mother.

"That sounds nice," Lorelai smiled, "Do you think she's going to be the one to crack you on who the father is?" Lorelai sat up straighter, a hint of laughter in her voice.

Rory laughed a little at the thought, "You know, she just might, you know how Paris is."

"That I do."

--

Rory made her way into New York, the city that was her home away from home.

She somehow found decent parking and made her way to the french bistro that she frequented when she lived here.

To her surprise, Paris was already sitting at a table, talking away on her phone.

She was dressed in a heather gray pant suit, her cobalt blue heels standing out. Her black colored coat was slung behind her on the chair she was sitting in. She looked every bit like a doctor, in contrast to Rory's more laid back approach, jeans with a green sweater, brown booties, and a camel colored jacket.

As she got closer, Rory could hear Paris' conversation.

"Doyle! You will not introduce my children with whatever slut you decided to bring home," by this point, everyone in the place was staring, but Paris did not have a care in the world.

"Well you know what? I'm going to shove my foot down your a- hold on," she took the phone from her ear and tapped the screen, bringing it up to her ear once more.

"Dr. Gellar speaking."

"How many times have I told you not to call me on my lunch break? I get one hour of uninterrupted peace a day, Sandra. That's it. If you call me again you're fired," and with that she hung up the phone, only to go back on with Doyle.

"Listen Doyle, I am trying to have lunch with Rory and- Doyle says hi, Rory," Paris said without even looking at Rory, who had already sat down at the table, "We will discuss this later."

Paris slammed her phone down on the table and placed her hands in her lap.

"Rory, so good to see you, how are you?" Paris' mood shifted as she talked with one of the only people she actually liked.

"I'm... okay, I guess. But is this a bad time for you? If you need to call Doyle back or head back to the office I don't mind postponing," Rory said, trying to push off the inevitable conversation that was to follow.

"Nonsense. Doyle can wait and so can my office. So tell me, why did you want to grab lunch? I mean not that I mind, but I thought you would be writing your book."

"Well I have been, but I really wanted to talk to you," Rory was getting more nervous by the second, her hands fidgeting with her sleeves, just like she had at breakfast.

"Oh god," Paris' face darkened, "you slept with Doyle didn't you."

Rory couldn't help but audibly laugh at Paris' insinuation.

"Oh great, you think it's funny? Rory, I am a practicing lawyer, I will sue your ass for emotional distress and-"

"Paris, no. I did not sleep with Doyle. I don't know why your mind always goes there when people want to tell you things," her voice got softer as she continued.

"I'm sorry. With everything going on with the divorce, I just can't stop imagining Doyle with other people. I love him, but I hate him, you know?" Paris shrugged as her voice, too, got softer.

"I don't completely understand, but if you ever need anyone to talk to, I am a phone call away," Rory said assuredly.

"So what is this news? It must be big if you drove into the city just to have lunch with me," Paris took a sip of water, grazing her eyes over the menu that was placed in front of her.

"Well... you see, I- uh,"

"C'mon, spit it out," Paris lost her patience very easily, nothing there has changed.

"I'm pregnant."