She knew it was a desperate measure. She knew going to see Anna was probably going to be a mistake, but she had to try. She had to try for herself, she had to try for Luke.

She didn't want to understand her, didn't want to agree with her. But she remembered Rory at thirteen, and she remembered her own rules about who got to be in Rory's life, and she did understand, did agree.

Driving aimlessly, she doesn't want to go home. She doesn't want to see Luke right now. She doesn't think she would be able to stop herself from spewing out every angry thought tumbling through her mind. She knows that the "hey Luke, you know, if you made me a part of the picture from the beginning maybe we wouldn't be here right now?" or "if you weren't so scared that I'd somehow make you less important, if you just needed me a little more, than maybe Anna wouldn't be so sure that I'm just someone passing through your life," would pour out before she could stop them. But it's too late for bitter thoughts to crowd in, because if there is anything she's learned in her life, it's that you can't go back and fix the past. You can only go forward the best you know how. And if the mistakes you've made have colored your future so much that there is very little choices that you can make, well that's the price you have to pay. She knows, because she's paid for hers again and again.

The late afternoon sun is blinding in its intensity, as she drives into it and away from Stars Hollow. Her destination is clear to her now. She has goodbyes to say. She has dreams to put away.

When she pulls into the drive of the little white church, she is struck again by the beauty of this spot, the feeling of peace she gets when she walks up to the door.

The church is unlocked, as she found it the first time, an age-old tradition the pastor had told her, a sanctuary for the weary, a place of peace for the reflective, a place of worship for the contrite.

She stands for a moment at the back of the church, watching how the sun plays through the stained glass windows, how it dances lights and color across the room.

She enters slowly, walking down the center aisle, till she reaches the first pew. Sitting in the sunlit room, she only has to close her eyes to hear the music playing.

She can see it happening in her mind, the organ playing a procession, the people standing, smiling, turning their heads to see the bride. She can feel her father's arm, sturdy under her trembling hand, as her eyes search out her groom, as she meets his eyes from a distance, as her heart pounds.

She stares into his eyes, blue/green and intent on her as she approaches him. He's so handsome in his tux, and a smile plays on her lips as she notices the perspiration on his brow, the nervousness in his stance. But as they join hands, his look becomes reverent and so loving that tears spring up and she swallows the lump in her throat at how much she feels for this man, at how much she adores him.

They speak their vows carefully and clearly.

"I, Lorelai Gilmore, take you Luke Danes, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward, for all the days of my life."

"I, Luke Danes, take you Lorelai Gilmore, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward, for all the days of my life."

And when he slips the ring on her finger, and she slips another on his, she knows that this is just the beginning of their new life, one they will build together. And the commitment of this ceremony, floods her with a peace, a certainty, a bond that she desperately craves and needs beyond reason somehow. She needs to be married to this man, needs to stand before God and everyone she loves and say these vows, needs closure to years of waiting and wanting and needing. And it feels so perfect, so good and pure, and right.

She can feel his hand, gentle on her cheek, as he wipes away a stray tear. She can feel his lips, soft on hers, as he kisses his bride for the first time. And their smiles are contagious as they laugh out of sheer joy and relief, and hold each other tightly for a moment before turning to face the crowd of onlookers. And she sees her parents, smiling and truly happy for her. And she sees their daughters, leaning into each other, whispering something, content to watch their respective parents fulfill their dreams and make a family for them.

But that's all it is, just a dream, one that gets blurrier and farther away each passing day.

The sun has fallen behind the trees, and the church has gotten suddenly dim, the brightness and color taken away in a moment. She shivers slightly, coming out of her daydream, to find her face drenched in tears, her hopeful heart sitting heavy now in her chest, a feeling a dread and denial demanding attention, as the last of the sunlight fades away and leaves her in the dark.

Still, she doesn't move, as she lets the darkness engulf her and the quietness surround her. She's never been a religious person, never railed against God for her circumstances, never prayed that he would take away any of her burdens. But her hands clench tightly together as she bows her head in silent entreaty.

Please Lord, please don't hurt him. Please don't let Anna take his daughter away. Please don't let anything that I have done make it harder for him to have a relationship with her.

Please let it not be too late for us. I can't wait too much longer, I just can't. I just can't stand it anymore. I need to move forward. Please, she begs. . . . let us have our middle.

She says the last line in a whisper, sobbing now, afraid somehow to ask for something for herself, that if she even thinks of something selfish that he'll stop listening to her pleas.

And she laughs at her own foolishness, at her thoughts that somehow she can fool God into answering her prayers, if she keeps them about someone else.

Especially when she knows already, deep inside, in that gut Anna talked about, known since the moment she walked in the door, that this would be the last time she walked inside this church, that this was always meant to be a goodbye.

tbc