Tea Parties in Boston

4 - When We Just Stood Still

September 20th, 2022, Boston

Logan woke with a jolt, that squeeze Rory had given his hand on that day in New York having come back to him in his sleep. That well-meaning but dramatic squeeze represented how far they'd drifted. It had felt like the final of how they'd given up - on what was something he didn't want to start thinking about. Either way it felt like their intimacy, both the mental and the physical, had forever transformed into something business-like. God, how he hated that.

And while he knew their reasons had been noble - giving the girl a chance for a life of freedom - a life without rumors, shame and disappointments, impossible expectations and also free from his conscious absence that the distance would've created either way.

Logan looked at his phone for time - 5.32 AM, and searched for the switch of the night stand light, it taking some adjustment being in an unfamiliar hotel room at the Westin Boston Seaport District. He didn't feel like he was going to get more sleep - but much like his father, he didn't really sleep much.

He hadn't felt like staying somewhere overly fancy, this was just a regular business hotel. After all, him being here at all had been a constant guilt trip if he should be here at all - he really wasn't feeling like he deserved something fancier. He didn't feel like celebrating.

Logan adjusted himself to sit up, and briefly scrolled through his list of unread e-mails. He was anticipating Rory's e-mail or a call, if she still had his number. Did she? He didn't - having made the conscious choice to have fewer temptations to contact her. And there had been many, both at the highs and lows of his life during the past five and a half years.

Seeing Emma, going by her full name instead of the short 'Em' people seemed to call her because always came to him first when he thought about her, had definitely left him with a bleeding wound, emphasizing the regret so much more sharply, and a thirst for more. But honestly, he didn't know how he was just supposed to show up at Rory's place of work and expect anything else from her than a card to her lawyer or lots of shouting. He could imagine her freaking out at the sight of him, the number of times he'd talked her down from panic attacks between 2014 and 2017, both in person and by phone, could be counted on the fingers of both of his hands. He didn't know if she was doing better or not, he hoped she was, but most certainly he didn't want to be a catalyst for things to take the wrong turn if she had made progress.

The Barker Center - that was Harvard, wasn't it? - Logan pondered, not being quite sure.

Last night he'd gone out with a few friends he knew locally, business connections really, but the kind of people he actually didn't mind catching up with, hence he hadn't had that much time to think about Rory, but throughout the night he'd definitely felt the heaviness of his decision of what to do next.

While he tried to think of the most respectful way to approach Rory, he googled her, but didn't find her name on the Harvard website. The site contained the contact information of all the full-time professors, researchers and administrators, meaning that she either worked for some other organization which just occupied rooms in their building or she had some lower position. Google really didn't give a lot of information on her recent activities, she didn't even seem to be an avid social media user. Either way he hoped she did something that she was happy with. To him it had never been about her proving her worth by getting prizes or hitting the milestones she set for herself, those impossible self-imposed standards she had - he'd just wanted her to be happy.

He knew e-mail was probably the most respectful option, but he was scared she just might not reply at all, maybe not even open his e-mail, pretending like he hadn't contacted her. But he at least wanted her to hear him out.