"Shut Up!"
By now she's flat out drunk. Well maybe she's not. He's never really seen her act this way. Perhaps she's just tipsy and in a great mood.
"I'm not doing anything," he says.
She frowns for a second and then lifts herself off of the edge of the bed. She comes up to him and puts a finger to her mouth.
"Shhhh….I won't tell any-body," she says.
To him she smells heavenly. Her own perfume mixed with hard liquor. She smells strongly of vodka.
"Ok, I think you need to sit down," he says leading her down to an armchair.
But she won't go down without a fight.
"I don't need to sit! I need to stand!" she says flinging herself back up.
He gives up. She looks out at the balcony and pushes open the sliding door, taking his wrist, she walks out onto the balcony. They both sit on the patio furniture in silence.
"Why are you here? You should be sleeping this off," he tells her.
"All the other girls are too drunk and my mom left early."
"Oh."
More silence.
"How - was it," she asks hiccupping.
"Not bad."
"Did you have fun?"
"Are you trying to get at something?"
"It's a simple question."
"With a thousand different meanings," he adds.
More Silence.
"You never answered my question," she says.
"I thought it was OK, but I'm not the one you need to be worrying about."
She pauses for a moment contemplating this.
"Do you think he had fun?" she asks him.
He wants to hurt her, but he knows there's no point in starting something.
"He probably had a little fun."
She frowns again; he thinks she's coming back to her normal self. She's not drunk; she just had a little too much to drink. But after all that's what bachelorette parties are for. They are silent again, but it's no longer awkward. It's how it used to be.
"I never meant to hurt you."
He's shocked at her words. He thinks now maybe she is drunk. He can never tell with her.
"It happens."
"It shouldn't have."
"But it does," he remarks.
"You deserved better," she adds.
She's not going to let this go. The night before her wedding, the night before she pledges her eternal love she's sitting out on the balcony of a four star hotel with her ex-boyfriend apologizing for what went wrong in their relationship.
"You deserved at least an explanation, someone maybe who had enough balls to care about whether or not you knew the whole situation –"
Something inside of him snapped. The air was thick with emotion.
"You don't' get it do you? I'm not good enough for you, can't you just come out and say it already. I know it, you know it. Let's just put it out there. Put this to rest already. God damn it Rory, you were always too good for me. There was nothing – nobody was ever better than you. I just wasn't worthy enough to hold onto you."
She sits there motionless. It takes minutes for it to soak through.
"Jess," she says quietly, "that's not true."
"I don't fit into your life, never have never will."
"You're hallucinating."
"Why can't you just accept this? I have."
"Jess stop!"
He shuts his mouth. But there's more.
"Rory, you're getting married. Tomorrow the rest of your life starts. A life without me."
"I thought we were friends. I will see you around."
"Around where, Rory? You say that now and maybe for the first month or so I will see you. You'll stop by but eventually you won't have time to come by. You'll have too many obligations. So maybe you'll start calling once a week to check up on things. And then eventually the calls will stray to once a month and before long you'll be saying 'Jess? Jess who?' "
"That's not true," she says as she bites back tears.
"Just give in, reality is about to set in Rory. You and I are living in different worlds."
"Stop it. I still care about you."
He stops. He wants to hear her say more about how much she cares for him, but it would just make him weaker, knowing he can't have her.
"Rory don't."
"No Jess. It's my turn. Do you know how it feels to look your fiancée in the eye and feel absolutely no passion at all? If he died, I wouldn't regret it. I wouldn't shed one tear. I think about you everyday. Every single hour, Jess. Not a day goes by I wonder what would have happened, if I was with you. I messed up and now I'm dealing with the consequences."
He stands up and throws his arms up into the air.
"God Rory!" he says as he kicks the patio chair.
She shutters and then stands up. He's breathing heavy and she's staring at him intently. She grabs his hand and places it on her heart. Her heart beat is rapid. She places his hands around her waist and she grabs his neck. She hugs him. He kisses the top of her head. Her hair smells incredible. She rests her head on her shoulder.
"I still love you…" she whispers into his ear.
He chokes for a moment. The lump in his throat gets bigger. She doesn't regret her words for once. He pushes her away.
"You should leave. You have a big day ahead of you."
Her face drops. She isn't going to let him have this.
"Tell me not to do it," she says to him.
"Do what?"
"Leave and get married."
"You don't want to leave poor Derek waiting do ya?"
"Don't act like this," she says.
"Like what, Rory?"
"Like you don't care about me."
"What the hell do you want me to tell you?"
"The truth, for once."
"I did."
"Don't do this."
"Rory, I'm not doing anything."
"I know you miss me."
"You think very highly of yourself don't you?"
She takes another step towards him barely 2 inches from his body.
"Look me straight in the eye and tell me you don't love me."
He looks her in the eye.
"I don't - care about you," he stammers.
"That's not what I asked."
"I do not love you," he says monotone.
She steps back and he can see tears forming in her eyes. He looks away. He can't stand himself right now. But he has to do this, he has to move on. She has to get married in the morning. She turns around and heads toward the door. Slamming it hard. He follows her through the sliding door. She's gathering her things. A purse and light jacket. He watches her motionless, run through the door and out of his life.