**thanks so so much for yr sweet and kind comments. they're inspiring! this is the end of this story. but i have lots more in my pocket. and i can't wait to write them. :)**

CHAPTER TEN

"Hey, Rory," Jess says after what seems like forever.
She doesn't say anything.
"I wanna ask you something," he says.
Wanna ask me what?
What?
I wonder.

"Well, let me say something first," he says. He puts the palms of his hands flat on the table. Like he's pressing them into cement. Like it matters. Like the imprints will last forever.

"I'm glad you came to Philly. I'm glad you came because I was too chicken shit to come looking for you. I couldn't stand the thought of you telling me No. Or finding out you were married or engaged or I don't know. I just couldn't deal with that. It was better not to know," he says.
Rory tucks her hair behind both ears and crosses her arms and then, uncrosses them.
I'll sit down.
She sits across from him, rests her chin on her hand.
I love the shape of your eyes.

"Luke never really told me anything about you. He sorta knew not to even mention your name to me. I couldn't stand to hear it. It hurt to hear it," he says.
Did you know that?
"I was the same way with you," Rory admits.
Did you know that?
"And so I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not looking to feel that way again. And I'm not saying you or I can guarantee that this is forever. We can't promise that. But I do know that I'm okay with that. I'm okay with forever. I'm more than okay with it. Actually it's lame that I said Okay because what I mean is that's what I want. But we can't promise that," he says.

"I know," she says, she nods slowly and looks at him and then, away.
But we could try to promise that.
Could we?
"Jess..." she begins.
"But I'm not going anywhere. This is it for me," he says. He nods.
What can I do with my hands?
He reaches out to touch the glass jar of water that holds the sunflowers. He presses his fingertips against the glass then wraps his whole hand around it.
"I'm not going anywhere either," she echoes.

I want to marry you but I can't tell you that. I don't want you to think I'm being ridiculous.
Married.
I'm not going to say that aloud.
But.

"Oh," he begins.
A question. You said you had a question.
"Hey. Is it okay to give you this?" he asks, sliding her a small plain white envelope.
It slips across the table, into her waiting hand.
There is something inside.
What is it?

She opens it.
A key.
"A key? To your place?" she asks.
"Yes. Yes, it is," he says.
"Really? Seriously? I mean, this is big. This is special. Jess," she says, feeling its weight in her hand; a tiny jagged anchor.
"So come by. Whenever you're close. Or not close. I don't care. I fully expect and hope to walk in when I get home from work some days and see you in my apartment," he admits.
Will you do that? That would be fucking perfect, you doing that.
"This is really awesome. All of this. Being here, being there, being anywhere with you. I sorta can't believe it. I mean, I wanted it. I wished for it. But...I sorta still can't believe it," she says.
He doesn't say anything.
He doesn't have to.

Outside, crickets and a new moon.
Inside, quiet breaths and the house softly creaks and settles.

The morning he's getting ready to head back to Philly, his Honda is parked in the Gilmore driveway and Rory is standing there with her hands in her back pockets.
Why am I crying?
"Hey. Two weeks. My place in two weeks, it's a date. We'll count the days," Jess says.
"And I'll call you tonight," she says.
"You better," he says.
"And we'll be back here in Stars Hollow again for Thanksgiving. And Christmas," she says.
"Wouldn't miss it," he says.
I wouldn't.
Why do I feel like crying?
Because I already miss you.

"I love you, Rory," he says after they kiss. Again.
"I love you, too," she says after they hug. Again.

As he drives out of town, he looks over at the diner and waves to Luke.
Luke smiles and waves.

I'll be back soon. Couple of months.
Maybe I'll ask her then?

He's on the highway now and the window is down just enough.
He smokes one cigarette.
One.

His eyes are nearly welling again.
He can't wait to get back home. To write.
Golden, pulsing September.
The black-haired punk who bruised the road.
He can't wait for Rory to come back to Philly. To stay at his place and sleep in his bed.
It's okay to want forever.
Right?
It is.
It's okay.

The tears finally fall, but he is not sad.
Not at all.
He lets out his breath.
Like he's been holding it for a week.

And he says Okay aloud.
To no one, to nothing.
The window wind is cool on his eyelashes, his face.

Good.
I can breathe now.

Rory is in her old bedroom packing up her things and goes over to the box of letters.
She reaches in and grabs one.
Randomly.
She doesn't know when he wrote it.
She sits on her bed and reads it again.

Dear Rory, it is raining tonight. A steady, constant rain that almost feels like it's coming from both sides, earth and sky. Did you know that I think about you whenever I'm sad? I think about how you make me feel and how you're a light. I never really believed in God until I met you. I wish you were here with me tonight. You'd love this. This city and the tree-lined streets and the music. I never really prayed until I met you. I wish you were here with me tonight. You'd love this. The blurry lights and the rain and this coffee. Fuck, I miss you, Rory. You don't even know. I just think and hope that one day we'll figure all of this out. And when we do.

Rory folds it and puts it back in the box.
She grabs her cellphone and calls Jess.
"Hey," he says, driving and driving towards Philly.
"Hey," she says, zipping up her suitcase.

Good.
I can breathe now.