The Question of a Lifetime {EDITING}

4||Discovering

Logan knew his answer from the moment she said it. The moment she told him that a little life was growing inside her—a mini-Ace—he knew there was nothing that could keep him away.

"Rory, I'm so ready to start this new chapter in our lives. There are no words," his hands trailed down to hers and brought them to his lips to kiss her knuckles. His lips lingered on the engagement ring before his attention went back to her eyes that sparkled with unshed tears, his own weren't far behind. "Oh Ace. My Ace. I love you so much."

"Now, how should we break the news to them?" Rory sniffled, trying to snuff down her tears of happiness.

Logan, lost in his own world, sitting with his girlfriend turned fiancée had to bring his focus back to her. "Huh?"

"Well, we got to tell our friends and family the news." She ran her thumbs over the tops of his hands, giving them a reassured squeeze.

"Oh, right. Well—I, uh." Logan stumbled over his words as he remembered the crowd in the waiting room. "Your dad is going to kill me. Oh, wait no. The wrath of Emily and Richard is what I really need to prepare for." Logan paled, releasing from Rory and began his determined pacing. "Oh! Your Mother! I'm going to go to an early grave! I'm... I may not even see my child!" Logan spun towards her direction frantic and almost pleading, his hands resting on the bar at the foot of the bed. "Do you think we can keep this quiet for just a little bit longer? Maybe. Maybe wait until we are in California and settled and do a conference call? That would work! But maybe let the guys not know until after the birth, because Hell knows Finn and Colin and the LDB will want to do some giant celebration not only for the engagement—the ending of my bachelorhood is an apparent milestone. But the stress they'd no doubt put on you because I know they'll be little hovering helicopters. They've always been mother hens when it comes to you. Closet mother hens, really. And the girls! They'll want to take you for shopping—not that it's a bad thing, but I've heard about the aching feet thing and you know their shopping sprees last hours, and—I don't want you to get even more overwhelmed than you do when you are suddenly thrust into something out of your control just like the proposal—Oh gad I knew I should've waited until later, I mean you passed out! That's on me! Your health should be priority—" his rambling was like a visible stress ball; squeeze, release, squeeze, release; on topic, trail off, on topic, trail off. If it wasn't for the current hour and Logan making a worn track in the floor with his pacing, Rory would laugh at the Gilmore rambling he had apparently picked up on from her. It was cute, but a little worrying at the moment. Is this what he feels when she stress-rambles about the stupidest of things?

I sat up further wanting to pull him towards her, but he was out of reach. "Logan. Logan! Listen to me! Everything is fine, okay? I'm sure mom already suspects. She found me with my head in the toilet at the party and I'm sure she already told me dad—" He had locked eyes with her, a mixture of emotions in his warm brown irises.

"How am I still alive then?! Because surely, I should already be six feet under according to the dads with daughters association—It's a really thing, trust me." Logan gave her a deliberate look: don't ask me how I know this, it was a weird conversation. Rory simply smiled and reached out for him, he gravitated towards her and took a seat next to her legs.

"Okay, this is going to be a tabled conversation for later. Logan, my dad likes you. Mom, not so much, but she's getting used to the idea of you still—I know it's been three years, but she's seen the bad end in our relationship, not the good. She thinks you've taken the number one spot in my life, and she's not wrong. Nuh uh. I'm talking." Rory shut down Logan's attempt to correct that claim as she grabs onto his hands, her cold and soft ones holding his warm and calloused ones. "My grandparents have wanted grandchildren between the both of us since we met. I think you'll be surprised at how welcoming the idea will be of our child being born with us not married. If we plan for the wedding to happen. You'll still be the favorite, not to worry." Her bright blue irises glittered with laughter that squelched all panic from his system.