A/N: Sorry I haven't been in much of a writing mood. Let me know how this chapter relates to the others, hopefully it's not too much of a let down.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

I cast a pleading look at mom in vain, hoping it might speed up the rest of the meal, receiving the same unwelcome glare I had been getting all night.

She had refused to let me talk to Rory alone until after we had eaten, trapping me into this ordeal, a full meal with nothing to say. Please let this end I begged, not even half way into it.

I glanced over at Rory and caught her blank, contemplative stare. She was entirely lost in thought.

I sighed and moved my gaze around the room, trying to keep my thoughts on why I was here. I can't deal with fighting all three of them at once And of course. There was no other option if I told them all at once. Just take this one step at a time. Tell Rory and get it sorted out with her first, and then deal with your parents. They don't need to accept it, just know about it. You owe them that much. I reasoned doubtfully. I was still hurt by my parent's betrayal, still stunned by Rory's personality reversal, still just in pain from the whole experience and sitting here was not helping. Owe them for what? A voice asked within me.

There had been some exchange of small talk at first, mainly between mom and dad, but they quickly ran out of things to fill the silence with, the always safe topic of Yale dead. Rory hardly said a word, even what spoken to. She just stared into space, murmuring some half-hearted reply after being asked how her day had been by dad and other then the gasped "Mom" when I had walked in, she hadn't said a single word to me.

Everything was so perfect. The words floated through my head as I remembered our squealing in this very room when I said yes to Max on the porch and passing pictures of well endowed ballerinas back and forth over fondue. Our story had had an almost fairy tale feel to it, and we were finally getting to the happily ever after, or so I had thought. Welcome to reality. I swallowed sadly, glancing once again to the miserable looking Rory.

I wanted to be able to run up and hug her, squeal that Luke and I were getting married, jump up and down hysterically and fall automatically into the tale of my proposal and then the plans for the wedding. I wanted to spend hours flipping through magazines, tearing out pictures and ads, and teasing Luke with her, talking about how sexy Luke would look in the pink ruffled tux we had gotten him. But I knew none of that was possible and that it probably wouldn't be possible even when I told her. Things are so screwed up. And they were only going to get worse when I let them know.

For some reason my thought drifted back to a conversation I had had with Luke years ago, when I had been engaged to Max. "There's nothing like a marriage to screw up a family." He had said pessimistically. I had waved it off saying in my case there was nothing like a family to screw up a family… but now I was having a hard time just waving off that stupid comment. Sure my family had screwed its self up already this time, but I couldn't see my engagement making it any better.

A question from Emily's direction snapped me out of my train of thought suddenly as the maid took away the main course. "Did you get the letters?" she asked coolly, taking a sip of wine.

I thought of the pile of monogrammed envelops sitting in a drawer in the kitchen completely untouched, addressed in my mother's perfect handwriting to Ms. Lorelai Victoria Gilmore and frowned. "I got them." I replied just as icily. "So then you know all about Rory's new job?"

New job. I looked up at Rory and made the first eye contact of the evening and suddenly felt queasy, needing to get out of there. "Yeah. I know about it." I lied unconvincingly, scooting my chair back from the table and putting my napkin on it. "I need to use the restroom real quick." I excused myself, standing up. "I'll be back in a minute."

I walked out of the dining room before anyone could object and passed the downstairs bathroom, continuing on to the stairs, stepping up them quietly. I slipped down the hall to my old room and stepped inside, leaning back on the door when it closed. Still the same. I sighed, taking in all the ruffles and bows, all perfectly arranged of course, the exact same way they had been when I had left it twenty years ago, right down to the sparkly pencils in a cup on the desk.

I pushed myself off the door and slumped over to the windows, opening one with ease and stepping through it into the warm summer night. I leaned up against the rail and crossed my arms over my chest as I pulled back the whole reason I had felt the need to escape. So she actually has a job. I thought sadly, picturing Rory sitting in a depressing little office, being yelled at by a boss. So much for a happy ending.