Thanks to Cira for helping to edit the story. I'm glad to know that I have your stamp of approval!

It is 10:45pm and I feel utterly exhausted. It has been quite a long day today and, to be truthful, I don't remember too much of it. Well, I remember this evening. I remember the funeral and the wake. It's the morning and early afternoon that isn't so clear. I drank a little too much brandy and had a few too many mojitos for a woman my age. I don't have the energy that I used to. It's easy to forget that I'm not twenty anymore. I remember saying something to the effect of "Personally, I think we should just toss some cheese cubes in the coffin, stuff some toothpicks in her mouth, and let the people go to town." I don't remember much more than that. I think I saw Sookie, but I'm not certain.

Now that the funeral is over and she's been buried, I'm not as upset as I was. Don't get me wrong. I am still upset, but not as hysterical as I was yesterday and this morning. I won't be planning any more drunken afternoons. It was highly inappropriate to act that way in front of my daughter. And my granddaughter, too. I blame Trix.

That woman. That damn woman! I knew that she was never very fond of me, but to beg Richard to leave me on the day before our wedding! How could she do something like that to the son that she claimed to love? For his benefit, I put up with her condescending nature for forty years and it was all for nothing. All the times that I put up with her and that I smiled and let her words roll off me. All those times when I stood there and let her insult and humiliate me in front of friends and family. All the times when she blamed and criticized me for everything that is wrong in Richard and Lorelai's lives. I did nothing but love her son. If I had known then, what I know now … well, our lives would have been quite different indeed.

It is a miracle that I made it through her funeral. I've never actually felt this kind of anger before, but I truly wanted to spit on her grave. Very unladylike, I know. But, I'm not Pennilyn Lott, so what did she really expect? I was never meant to be Mrs. Richard Gilmore. Apparently that is a role that was meant for someone more suitable. Preferably someone with the Gilmore "stamina" and "spark."

My hangover must have delayed itself until this evening. My head didn't start throbbing until around eight o'clock. I was standing behind Marilyn and listening to one of her horrid stories about Trix in Egypt when it started throbbing. I don't know if it was the memory of Trix or just the toll of the day. Or perhaps it was Trix herself still haunting me even from her grave.

Emerging from my closet, I turn off the light as I close the door behind me. Richard is already in bed. He's holding a book in his hands, flipping through the pages. I pull back the covers, sitting down with a heavy sigh. It has been a long day.

"Emily, are you all right?" he asks me.

I look over at Richard. "Aren't I the one who is supposed to be asking you that?"

He smiles, reaching for my hand. He squeezes it gently, telling me that he's fine. I look down at our hands. Something feels odd. It feels different. Something is different now. Now that I know about the letter. Now that she is gone. I don't know exactly what it is, but something is different. I can't help but feel that all of this is wrong or that it wasn't meant to be. I wasn't the woman meant to be here. Our marriage has been rocky lately; however, it's normal for all couples to have difficult times. Yet this feels different than those times.

As I look up at my husband, I suddenly feel foolish for having been so focused on myself. She was his mother, after all. I just can't seem to let go of what she's done but Richard … he loved her dearly.

"Good night, Richard," I say, leaning over to kiss him. It's not our usual, lingering kiss. It hasn't been for a while now. I turn to shut off the lamp on my side of the bed. Pulling the comforter up, I try to settle in and close my eyes. Hopefully I will fall asleep soon and my headache will be gone by morning.

"Emily…" Richard hasn't turned off his lamp yet. I turn over to face him. "Something is upsetting you."

I force myself to smile reassuringly. "Nothing is wrong, Richard. Go to sleep." I turn away from him again, resting my head on the pillow.

"I'm sorry, Emily." My eyes open at his words. What is he apologizing to me for? I should be the one to apologize, especially for getting drunk before his mother's funeral. However, I don't think he knows about that and it's probably best to leave it that way. I reach for my lamp, pushing myself into an upright position. The expression on my face must convey my confusion as he immediately begins to explain himself. "I should have been there."

I shake my head. "What are you talking about, Richard?" He must be referring to something about his mother.

"Melinda's funeral."

"Oh." I don't know what to say. I still can't believe she's gone. We've been best friends since before we were married women. She was the only friend that I had left from that time. She was the only person that knew who I was before Richard. Now there is no one left but me.

"Sitting next to you at Trix's funeral today, I realized how much it meant just to have you there with me. I should have been there for you when Melinda died."

"It's all right, Richard." It's late and my head still hurts. And his mother has just died. He shouldn't be thinking about me and my friend's funeral.

"No, Emily, it isn't. She wasn't just a friend from the DAR. She was the woman who used to drive you back and forth between Yale and Smith every weekend to see me. She was the woman who babysat Lorelai once a month when she was first born so that we could have some time alone. She was the one who convinced you to get out of bed after Lorelai left. I should have been there."

I try to smile at my husband. What he's saying means a lot to me. "I think she would have forgiven you, Richard. She liked you from the beginning. That's why she drove me to visit you every weekend."

He leans over and kisses me. This time it is a lingering kiss. Richard slides his arm around me, pulling me into his arms. I can feel him kissing the top of my head as his hand rubs my shoulder.

I suddenly find myself telling him something that I never imagined I would. "I found the letter."

"What letter?" he asks.

"The one that your mother sent to you the day before our wedding." His hand stops moving and I push myself out of his embrace.

I watch him carefully, trying to read his thoughts. "You weren't supposed to see that letter," he comments.

I laugh uncomfortably. "Apparently I was. She left a copy of it in her files for me to find one day."

Richard's eyes widen and I suddenly feel very shameful for having told him this on the day of his mother's funeral. It isn't right to do this on today of all days.

I reach my hand out and rest it on his leg. "She thought that she was doing what was best for you. I suppose that I can't blame her for loving her son." Richard is still silent. "It's been a long day. Let's just go to sleep, Richard." I move to once again turn out my light, but he stops me.

"I was so angry with her. I could barely manage to get through dinner without causing a scene. But your parents were there and your sister too. I didn't want to bring them into this. And I especially didn't want you to know. I never wanted you to see that letter."

"You knew before dinner?" I ask. It is starting to make sense now. We had a large dinner the night before our wedding at his parent's house. My entire family was there along with his family, too. Richard had been oddly quiet that night.

"She left the letter for me to find in my room. I guess she was hoping I'd announce over dinner that the wedding was off."

I bring my hand to his cheek. "Oh, Richard, I'm so sorry."

He takes my hand in his own. "You didn't know." He kisses my hand gently. "I didn't want you to know."

"I think it might have been easier if I had known," I muse. "Then I might not have tried so hard all these years to gain her approval. I would have known from the start that I never had it to begin with."

Richard looks into my eyes and for a moment I feel like I'm a young woman again. "You have my approval," he whispers.

I want to smile at the kindness of his words, but I can't. I find myself asking him something that has been bothering me since I found the letter. "Why didn't you call off the wedding?" I ask.

He looks at me incredulously as if he can't believe that I would ask such a thing. "I … I was in love with you, Emily. I wanted to marry you. Why would you think I'd have called off the wedding simply because it is what my mother wanted?"

I feel rather melancholy tonight. "Your life probably would have been a lot easier, if you had. Your mother was right. Pennilyn would have been a perfect Gilmore. I never lived up to her standard. If you'd married her, you might have more than just one child. I never produced an heir. When Rory gets married, there is no one left to carry on your name. And the daughter that we do have, I've done all I can to alienate her from our lives. Perhaps your mother was right about me."

I am looking down at my right hand that is still being held by Richard. He lets go of my hand and touches the side of my face, forcing me to look at him.

"My mother was not right. I married you because you were the woman that I wanted to spend my life with. Pennilyn was a childhood romance. It was more about friendship and social compatibility than real love. I was in love with you and she was in love with Stephen. I never saw a future with her. In fact, I never saw a future with anyone until I met you. You're not perfect, Emily. Neither am I. However I couldn't then and I can't now picture a future with anyone but you."

I smile. I genuinely smile this time. I believe him. I believe what he is saying.