still. | a gilmore story

Chapter Three

A week later, Rory was sitting in a small, but busy cafe in Soho. The longer she sat there, the more her mind was coming up with the worst possible outcomes.

Her eyes were trained on the red door at the front of the cafe, her heart dropping to her stomach every time she heard the tiny bell ring to signal someone was walking in.

She kept trying to convince herself that it would be okay, snapping out of it every now and then, taking a sip of her decaf coffee- something she was still trying to get used to.

Her eyes snapped back up when she heard the bell above the door, this time, she knew the person coming inside.

He gave her a small wave, signaling to her that he was going to grab something from the counter.

This gave Rory a chance to admire him. His dark blue suit was tailored perfectly to his toned body. His blonde hair was slightly longer than when she had last seen him, but he was still styling it the same way.

After what seemed like an eternity, he was finally making his way over to her table in the back.

He sat down, neither of them speaking. Several long moments later, he finally broke the silence.

"Hey," Rory looked at him, she could tell he was trying to suppress what he was actually feeling, but what that was, she had no clue.

"Hi," she squeaked back. She made direct contact with his eyes, quickly casting them back down to the mug on the table.

"As much as I love to see you, I wasn't sure if I would again," he said, "I thought you were done, I thought we were done, Rory."

She could see the confusion in his eyes.

"Look, I came here to talk to you. We can still be done, but-"

"Rory... I can't keep doing this," he sighed, "I said good-bye to you because that's what you wanted. You forced me out."

"I know. I know what I said. But things have changed since then. Things that you really need to know about," she watched him, trying to see if he had any inkling of what she was going to tell him.

"And what's that?"

"Well, let me just say that I don't intend for you to do anything about it, I just thought you had a right to know. This will impact you just as much as me and I want you to know that I'd be willing to give you an out," she said. She secretly hoped she wouldn't have to, but with everything going on, she felt she needed to brace herself for whatever he decided.

"I'm not following," he leaned his back into the chair, looking more confused than ever, "an out? An out to what?"

She was silent for a few moments. She looked back up at him, knowing it was now or never.

"Logan, I'm pregnant."

And in that moment, realization spread across his face. He could now make sense of her cryptic words.

"Before you say anything, I want to reiterate that I don't expect anything from you. After speaking with Luke, my dad and of course my mom, I figured you should know."

Her eyes were trained on his face, trying to gage what he was thinking.

"How long have you known?" his question came out more like loud whisper, his voice betraying him.

"I found out a month after New Hampshire," her voice was quiet, but it didn't waver, "I'm right at 10 weeks."

"So it's mine?"

"Oh yeah Logan, cause I flew all the way to London for fun and to tell you that I'm pregnant with someone else's baby," she muttered sarcastically, but there was no humor in it.