The dress didn't fit. The dress didn't fit and her stomach sank.

As Emily marched out of the room to talk to the photographer, Lorelai stared at her reflection in the mirror, thoughts flying through her mind, dots connecting. She tore at her dress. She needed it off her. How something that couldn't even do up could make her feel as though she was suffocating was unclear. It fell into a heap at her feet, a white cloud of disappointment, as she struggled for breath.

What the hell was she supposed to do now?

Where was the best place to get a test without being seen? Tell Christopher now and have him with her while she took the test? Wait until she knew for sure before she told him? How the hell to tell Emily and Richard that she'd managed to exceed everyone's expectations in the disappointment department?

With her thoughts spirraling, she sank down onto her bed and tried to regulate her staggered breathing. Passing out was not an option. Lorelai could only imagine Emily's response to such an action "Lorelai, a lady delicately places their hand on their forehead, mumbles that they feel unwell, and then slowly and gracefully sink to the floor. Bonus points if they manage to sink into the waiting arms of a handsome, eligible bachelor..."

Her hands gravitated to her stomach. While Lorelai wasn't sporting a prominent baby belly, now that she was focusing on her body, so could see that there was something there. Something different. Something that she had been ignorant to only minutes before.

Minutes? How could minutes feel like hours, feel like days, and still at the same time feel as though time had stood still

She had slept with Christopher twice. The earth had not moved, the deed itself had lasted ten minutes at best (and that was being generous) with minimal pleasure for her, and yet it appeared to be her, out of all her classmates who were doing it, that had been caught out.

Thoughts of Christopher telling her that he would make sure protection was covered flew through her mind and she vowed that she would never again put herself in a position where she let someone else take control.

She walked over to the mirror again, clad only in her underwear, and gazed at her reflection. Hands rubbing her belly, she breathed in slowly, and out slowly.

"I am in control" she whispered "I. Am. In. Control".

It occurred to her, as she kept whispering this mantra over and over that for the first time, in as long as she could remember, she didn't feel as alone anymore. This person that was growing inside her made her feel fear like she'd never known before, fear of the unknown, fear of giving birth, fear of raising a child. That fear however, was almost balanced out by a wave of completeness.

Lorelai Victoria Gilmore, one of the top in her class, her head filled with dreams of travel and life away from Hartford let a solitary tear roll down her face as she thought about how her world had shifted on its axis.

She knew that Chris needed to be told. It takes two to tango, and she could do with having her dance partner by her side as she faced the firing squad.

Telling Chris, meant Straub and Francine though, and that scared the crap out of Lorelai. Emily and Richard were difficult to live with, well, more so Emily. Richard never really seemed to be home all that much, and when he was, he was in his study, or at a social event or two with her mother. Lorelai was pushed by Emily in directions she didn't want to go. She felt like she did nothing but constantly disappoint them, and a big part of her felt that they deserved a daughter better than she could ever be to them.

They weren't cruel though. Not like Straub was, and as thick as Lorelai's skin was, she knew that she would come out of this confrontation a lot more battered and bruised than Christopher Hayden would.

She took one more deep breath in front of the mirror.

Standing here wasn't going to change anything. To deal with the road ahead, she needed facts, which meant she needed to take a test to confirm what she was pretty confident she knew already.

Lorelai picked up the discarded Debutante dress, calmly placed it back on its hanger, and pulled on the clothes she had been wearing before her Mom had sent her upstairs to get ready for the photography session. Once dressed, she headed into the bathroom, washed her face, and took one more glance into the mirror there before turning out the light and heading downstairs.