#shirbert ff

Understanding flooded through Bash, and he stabbed his rake into the ground. He shifted on his feet, peering down at his toes to avoid stepping on the flowers. Delivering unpleasant news was never truly his forte. Anne’s distress only spread across the yard as he hesitated, so he heaved a disappointed sigh.

“Gilbert left for Charlottetown this morning. He wasn’t sure when he’d be home.” 

“To see Winifred?” 

Bash frowned. He loved this skinny little redheaded queen of Avonlea, and to see her disintegrating away crumpled his heart like paper. All he could say was, “I’m so sorry, Anne.” 

She paled into a ghost right on the porch steps, nodding numbly. Her lips parted as if she might say something, but no sound followed. Swallowing, Anne climbed down the rest of the stairs. She shuffled across the dirt path with her battered heart bleeding on her sleeve.

“Anne?” Bash called out. She paused, looking over her shoulder with rosy eyes. “Why don’t you go in and say hello to the baby. I bet she’d be happy to see you. Take your mind off of things. ”

“That’s okay, Bash. I’ll just go home.” 

“I just thought you might like a free moment to yourself, is all,” Bash explained. “But if you’d rather go back to Green Gables, I won’t blame you.” 

Anne swiped a hand across her cheek and nodded. She considered heading back down the road, but eventually decided on the company of one tiny little girl. She moved into the house as if she were marching in her own funeral, a mere soul of a girl wandering around with unfinished business. Bash’s eyes lingered on her as she quietly entered the house and let out a quiet sob. 

“Damn it, Blythe,” Bash spat angrily, throwing his rake into the soil. He leaned his face into the sun, drinking in all of its warm light. “Oh, I wish he would’ve listened to you, Mary.” 

Bash’s work in the garden had turned the humble plot of land into a creation fitting to honor his wife, but Anne had still not come from the house. She might’ve slid out of the back door, escaping into the solace of her beloved forests. But when Bash swung up the kitchen door, he found a quiet girl rocking his baby back and forth, smooth and steady like waves on a ship. Anne clung to Delphine, pressing her face in the baby girl’s hair and sniffled. When he called her name, she lifted her head and managed a smile. 

“Mind if I sit?” he asked gently. Anne shook her head, shaking Delphine on her knee. Across the table, he could see that her eyes were dry, but still red around the corner. Shiny streaks dried against her cheeks, but she’d stopped weeping some time ago. Bash searched for something to say, but Anne filled the silence by getting up to pour him a glass of water. She snuck a glance out the window before handing him the cup.

“The garden looks positively enchanting,” she complimented quietly. 

“Thank you very much. I took your advice about those little blue flowers. They’re very sweet.” He paused, tapping onto his glass. “Anne, what happened with you and Gilbert?” 

Anne’s eyes turned burst with panic. 

“Forget I asked!” Bash rushed. “I just wondered...Sometimes he barely tells me anything straight out.” 

At the counter, Anne turned her back to Bash and began stirring some of Delphine’s porridge over the stove. 

“There’s not much to tell. He came to me to tell me that Winifred’s parents were going to help him fulfill his dreams and he was considering proposing. Then he left.” 

Bash took a swig of his water, nearly slamming it back down on the table. 

“He said he asked you…” he trailed off. Maybe he shouldn’t be spreading around his brother’s business like this. 

“Asked me what?” Anne yelped, spinning around. Delphine let out a disapproving grunt. “He didn’t ask me anything.” 

“He didn’t?” Bash exclaimed. 

“I was admittedly a bit...inebriated, but of all the things he said to me, he never asked me anything,” Anne ranted. “He just said there was just one thing that was holding him back from going off with Winifred. And I...I didn’t know what to say! I rambled incoherently trying to gather my thoughts and then he left .” Anne finished with a bitterness in her tone that Bash hadn’t heard from her before. She sat at the table with a half-angry, half-heartbroken thud. “So no, he didn’t ask me anything.” 

Bash didn’t know what to say. How could he stand behind Gilbert, explain his behavior, when this force-of-nature of a girl struggled not to cry in their kitchen. He fought off the urge to drop his head into his hands, but for Anne’s sake, he bit the inside of his cheek.

“I don’t know why I thought he’d ever…” Anne swallowed, blinking furiously, determined not to cry. “I don’t have anything to offer him.” 

“That’s not true. Anne, everything that you are is more than that poor boy could ever deserve,” Bash argued immediately. He reached across the table, taking his fingers in hers. The freckles on the back of her hand looked like stars, and he gave a comforting squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I really, really wanted to be able to officially call you family. But no matter what happens, know this Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. On paper or no, you’re our family.” 

Anne’s blinked surprised, but her face crumbled seconds later. She bit her lip against the next onslaught of tears, chuckling with sobbing shudders as a few droplets dripped onto Dellie’s head. The peace of the moment was almost enough to soothe Anne’s aching heart, but the silence was interrupted by Bash’s mother calling from outside. 

“Mr. Blythe! We didn’t expect you home so soon! Come inside, come inside. Poor man must be tired!”  

Anne shot Bash a panicked expression,  and snatched her hand back to wipe away her tears. When Gilbert’s silhouette formed behind the kitchen door’s curtains, Anne shot to her feet and hid around the corner, just out of sight. She looked over, wondering if she could slip out one of the windows without making any noise. It was only when Delphine yanked at one of her loose tresses that Anne realized she had brought the baby with her. Tossing Delphine a desperate, over-exaggerated grin, she willed Delphine to stay quiet. Looked like she was staying put, at least until Gilbert went up to his room.

It was hard to tell what was happening. 

“You’re back early,” Bash commented, only slightly choking at the knowledge that Anne was hiding just out of sight. Gilbert didn’t answer, but Anne heard the clinking of something small and metal dropping onto the table. A ring ? 

There was a pause, then Bash said slowly, “She said no?” 

“ I said no,” Gilbert replied. A gasp almost escaped Anne’s lips, but she bit her tongue at the last second. “Why didn’t you wrap a chain around my ankle to keep me from going? I made such an ass of myself.”  

“You’re a grown man, Blythe. You can make your decisions without any influence from your brother. Besides, you asked me for my advice and you didn’t take it,” Bash teased, though the truth in his words was unmistakable. Gilbert only groaned in response. “Tell me about what happened.” 

There was a scraping off a chair as Gilbert sat down. 

“I took one look at Winifred and instead of saying Will you marry me like I planned, I said, I’m so sorry, I can’t keep courting you. If she hates me, I won’t be able to blame her. She wanted to know why.” 

“What’d you say?” 

“I told her why.” 

Anne wished she could peek around the corner and just get a glimpse of him. Maybe he was leaning back in his chair, curly hair unruly and throat exposed. An ache shot through her chest when she remembered that she had no right to be thinking about how handsome he was. Yet, she couldn’t help but wonder, was he disappointed the proposal hadn’t gone well? If she could just catch a glimpse of his face, she’d be able to tell right away. 

Silence settled on the room so thickly that Anne was surprised they both were still sitting there. But Gilbert needed time to process, and Bash was prepared to let him - even if it meant keeping Anne hiding behind the corner. Finally, Gilbert broke the silence.

“Sebastian, you were right,” he admitted lowly.

“About what?” 

“It’s always, always been Anne,” he admitted. Anne felt her heart plummet into her stomach, sending a million butterflies erupting from thin air. Was he saying what she thought he was.

“I’m the biggest fool I know,” Gilbert lamented.

“You’re the biggest fool I know, too,” Bash quipped light-heartedly. Anne imagined Gilbert glaring across the table, but his chair scraped as if he had jumped to his feet. 

“This is serious!” Gilbert scolded. “You know, there was this moment the other night when I went to see her. She was dancing up on this old dory pretending to be a pirate, and everyone was cheering. But you know what I saw?” 

“What, Blythe?” 

“Anne - with her hair down, the fire behind her, looking like the exact sight that nearly knocked me to my knees.” He paused, and Anne suddenly felt moisture on her face. Delphine reached out her tiny fingers and touched the dampness.

“I’m such an idiot. I didn’t even let her talk, I didn’t say what I wanted to say.” 

“What did you want to say?” 

“That I’m in love with her!” Gilbert burst. Anne nearly fell to her knees, with the shock of it. “Everything you said love is, everything you said it would feel like, it’s all there. I’ve known it since the day I met her. What have I been doing all this time?” 

Anne pressed her back against the wall, and leaned her head back. She couldn’t breathe . Gilbert Blythe was in his kitchen, confessing to his brother that he was in love with her and she wasn’t dreaming. Delphine gave another tug on her hair just to remind her. 

“It’s not about what you’ve been doing, Gilbert. It’s about what you choose to do now. ” 

“I haven’t had a chance to think that far yet,” Gilbert admitted. 

“Haven’t you?” Bash challenged. “Sounds like you’ve been thinking about it for a long time.”

Gilbert scoffed.

“I can’t expect her to listen to me. Not after everything I’ve put her through.” 

Bash let out an amused burst of laughter.  

“There’s the Gilbert Blythe I know. Congratulations on pulling your head out of your behind.” Gilbert swatted Bash. “Tell you the truth, I don’t think you have much to worry about.” 

“What makes you say-” 

It was at this precise moment that Delphine Lacroix let out an unexpected fit of giggles. Anne nearly jumped out of her skin, snapping back out of her thoughts to check and make sure Delphine hadn’t gotten into anything dangerous. But she was laughing as babies do, making Anne realize that Gilbert had stopped talking. With a deep breath, she rounded the corner and revealed herself. 

Gilbert’s face turned the same shade as Marilla’s rosebush and Anne wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or angry or both. Shame blanketed her under the soundless gazes of the Blythe-Lacroix men. She shouldn’t have listened so long, especially something so private. Lightning fast, Anne rambled out the first explanation she could think of.

“I didn’t mean to listen. I meant to leave when you came up the drive, but then I looked down and…” she bounced Delphine on her hip. Handing Bash his daughter, she wiped her sweaty palms on the skirts of her dress. “I’ll leave.” 

“Don’t,” Gilbert choked. Anne’s brows shot up, and she wondered if she’d ever remember how to breathe. 

“Alright,” she murmured. 

Bash looked back and forth between them, then rose from the table.

“I better let you two talk,” he said, heading out of the room. 

But Anne and Gilbert didn’t talk. They gazed at each other, minds dancing around the words they needed to say, but never actually coming to any worthwhile conclusions. Anne wasn’t accustomed to being left without her words, but the longer she said nothing, the more desperate and sad Gilbert’s hazel eyes grew. He’d said all he could. It was her turn now. 

Dizzy with her own affection and anxious that one wrong move could send them flying apart, Anne crept forward. Gilbert watched her eagerly. When she gently took his hands, a breathy sigh escaped his lips and blew against her hair. Her presence was a balm to him, and whatever had been weighing on his shoulders began to lift away. Lifting their joined fingers, Anne leaned her face onto the back of his hand, pressing a kiss to his soft skin. Gilbert swallowed, his eyes nearly misty in the sunlight.

“I wanted to tell you everything,” he whispered. “When I was feeling more like myself.” 

Anne shook her head, smiling. She didn’t need a storybook confession. She’d renounce all of her childlike ideals if it meant he loved her - and he did. Everything she needed to know, she could see peering up at him with teary, lovestruck eyes. 

“You really love me?” she murmured hopefully. Gilbert’s face split into a grin, and he tugged Anne into him. Her arms fell perfectly around his shoulders, her head resting on his shoulder as if it had always meant to lay there. He buried his face into her hair and tightened his hold.

“I do,” he promised into her ear. “I do.” 

A shocked sound escaped her lips - halfway between a laugh and a sob. She murmured something incoherent into the fabric of his shirt, so he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back. 

“What did you say?” he chuckled. Anne bit her lip and forced herself to tear her gaze off of the wooden floor. 

“I love you too,” she said. The words shot through Gilbert, and he brought his palm up to her face. “It’s so new to me, but it’s so clear. Everything you said, Gilbert, it’s all that way for me too.” 

“Really?” he choked. 

“Really. I just spent so much time thinking that I didn’t fit in your life, when really, you’re the only one who could ever fit in mine.” 

Her eyes the color of the sea right when the moon disappears into sleep. It made Gilbert want to run down to the shoreline with her and shout into the whistling wind cries of victory. Instead, he took a deep breath to calm his beating heart, but no amount of controlled breathing or caresses of her hand would ever be enough to quiet his joyful heart. He was so far lost in his thoughts, dizzy with bliss, that he didn’t notice the glint in Anne’s eyes change. One minute she was smiling bashfully at their entwined hands, the next she was just breaths away, bumping his nose with her own. He had leaned down like a magnet pulled to her, meeting her halfway. 

It was the closest they’d been together - so close that Anne could count the shades of blue hiding amongst the greens and browns of his eyes. Bringing her gentle touch to the sides of his face, she rose to her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Gilbert dissolved under her touch, holding onto her waist for purchase. He grinned into her kiss, too happy to hold it in, smiling even wider when her lips beneath his beamed just as much. 

From the doorway, Bash peeked his head in and felt his heart rise up into his throat. Suddenly all the things that he’d wished his brother could have didn’t seem so far out of reach. Gilbert would go to school, he’d learn and his compassion for healing others would grow, but he’d do it all with Anne at his side. No one would love him as strongly, support him so fiercely, or keep him level-headed throughout the inevitable trials of life. 

“You know, Diana,” She started pointedly, speaking loud enough so everyone could hear.

“I don’t think it’s such a very impressive thing to walk a little, low, fence. I once knew a girl who could walk the ridgepole of a roof.”

“I don’t believe it,” Josie said, putting her hand on her hip, “I don’t think anyone could do such a thing. You most certainly couldn’t.”

It was then that Gilbert knew that things were about to get bad.

“Couldn’t I?” Anne countered.

“Fine then. I dare you to.” Josie smirked.

Anne blanched for the slightest moment. It was clear to Gilbert that she had not thought this through. He prayed that she wouldn’t go through with it. Prayed that she was sensible enough to realize that this was a death wish.

He was not shocked, though, when she stood up and confidently started walking to the ladder leaning up against the Pye house.

Both he and Diana scrambled to their feet and chased after her.

“Anne, no.” Whispered Diana. “You do not have to do this just because Josie Pye dared you to. Everyone knows it’s not a fair dare.”

“Thank you, Diana, for your concern but I can assure you that I know what I’m doing.” Anne replied.

“Anne, you can not climb up onto that roof. It is not safe.” Gilbert cut in.

“Gilbert Blythe, I do not need you to tell me what I can and cannot do.” Anne said, sharply.

“Anne-” He tried again.

“No!” She interrupted, “I am doing this and that is final. Now if you’ll please excuse me.”

Gilbert and Diana let her go. They both knew better than to argue with Anne once she made up her mind about something. It was useless and was more likely to only make things worse.

Gilbert watched as Anne reached the ladder. She paused for a moment before she grabbed to the first rung and began her climb. To anyone else, Anne seemed confident in herself as she ascended the ladder. But Gilbert knew what to look for. He noticed the slight tremor in her hands and the way her eyes widened slightly as she reached the top. He knew that she was not as nonchalant and collected as she pretended to be.

He held his breath as she took the first step of her on the ridgepole, arms spread out like an eagle for balance. Any other time, he would have admired the way her hair blew in the wind or how gracefully she placed her feet, one after the other. But now, all he could do was watch and pray that she would make it back to the ladder before he passed out from lack of oxygen. When she reached the other side and turned around to go back to the ladder, Gilbert relaxed a little. She seemed to be doing alright and it seemed possible that she would make it out unscathed. That was when she stumbled for the first time. The whole class audibly gasped and then let out a sigh of relief when she caught her balance. But the first slip up had made Anne lose her concentration and her rhythm. On the next step, her back foot slipped too far for recovery.

Gilbert’s whole world went fuzzy as he watched her tumble down onto the other side of the house. All he could focus on was how he shouldn’t have let her go up there. He should’ve tried harder to stop her, put up a better fight. He’d been an apprentice for Dr. Ward for a while now, he knew what could happen from a fall like that. And yet, he still let her do it.

He felt himself running around the house beside Diana, their classmates close behind them. She was there when he rounded the corner, laying still in a pile of bushes by the house. Diana reached her first.

“Anne, are you killed? Oh, Anne, dear Anne, speak just one word to me and tell me if you’re killed” Diana cried.

“No, Diana, I am not killed, but I think I am rendered unconscious.” Anne groans.

Relief flooded his body. He had never been so thankful before.

He lifted her out of the bushes with the help of Diana. That is when he noticed her limp on her right ankle. His jaw clenched and suddenly he was overcome with frustration. She had known exactly what she was getting herself into. She had known just as well as he had that it probably would’ve ended in disaster and yet, she still did it. She still put herself directly in harm's way and for what? To prove a point? He couldn’t believe her. He knew she was stubborn- heck, that was probably one of the qualities he admired most about her- but this was taking it too far.

As frustrated as he was, he knew he had to make sure that she got home alright, which is why he shot a reassuring look at Diana and then whispered to Anne, “I’ll take you home.”

He felt his classmates gawking at them- still in shock of what just happened- as they hobbled slowly down the driveway, Anne’s arm around his neck for support.

They walked down the lane, uncharacteristically silent. Normally he would’ve been attempting to cheer her up by telling her stories about Bash or his childhood but he couldn’t bring himself to speak, scared that he might say something out of anger that he would regret later.

This tense silence prompted Anne to speak up.

“I know you’re mad at me.” She began cautiously.

“Of course, I’m mad at you!” He finally burst. “Do you know how seriously injured you could’ve been? All for some silly bet?”

“But I wasn’t! I’m completely fine except for a rolled ankle that will heal in no time.”

“Your don’t have to prove yourself to everyone, you know. Was it really worth it to put yourself in such danger?”

“You heard her Gil, she was so smug, I couldn’t back down from something like that.”

They were stopped in the middle of the lane now, face to face.

“Do you never think about the consequences of your actions? What do you think would’ve happened if the fall had been worse? What would Marilla and Matthew have done? What would Diana have done? What would- what would I have done?” He whispered the last part.

She looked at him for a long moment before saying, “You’re right, Gil. It was stupid and I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry that I worried you.”

Gilbert smiled gently.

“Thank you.” He whispered.

Impulsively, he leaned down and kissed her forehead lightly. He heard her sharp intake of breath and pulled back to look into her eyes. They stared at each other for a moment before the corners of her lips tilted upwards.

With that, he picked her up bridal style, and continued towards Green Gables. He figured that it would be much faster if he was the only one doing the walking.

“Just promise that you won’t do something like that ever again.” He requested.

“You know I can’t promise you that.” She replied.

He smiled down at her.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Many thanks to you, sir.” Gilbert said, folding the piece of parchment and tucking it into his pocket.

Gilbert had stopped in at the Barry residence on his way home from the train station, having been a week away in Charlottetown making arrangements for his imminent departure for France. Winifred’s father had been quite a help in this regard, but Gilbert knew that he would have to shoulder the cost of university on his own, prompting his enquiry with Mr. Barry on how the initial exports of his apples had fared.

Mr. Barry nodded and offered him a thin smile.

“I would offer you an invitation to stay for tea, but as you know, spirits have been quite low, of late.” He nodded towards the parlor, and for the first time, Gilbert noticed Diana sitting primly before a low table set for the afternoon respite.

Her usually fair skin appeared almost translucent, her dark hair curling around her pallid cheeks in unkempt waves. She stared into her cup, the brown liquid steaming and untouched.

Gilbert frowned as the youngest one, Minnie May, appeared in the entryway between them. Her rose-colored skirts gathered in her hands, she peered up at him with sorrowful eyes.

“Is it true that Anne is dying?” she asked, her voice small.

Gilbert stood quite silent and motionless, looking at her.

“Minnie May, that’s enough now,” Mr. Barry said, moving forward to shepherd her back into the parlor.

He turned back to his visitor, finding that Gilbert’s face had gone so white that he thought he might faint.

“Are you quite alright, son?” he asked, concern furrowing his brow.

“Is… it… true?” Gilbert asked in a voice that wasn’t his.

“Anne is very ill,” Mr. Barry said gravely. “She took down with pneumonia over a week ago. Hadn’t you heard?”

“No,” said that unknown voice.

“The doctor said it was a bad case from the start, as she’s been so terribly run down lately, clamoring on about injustice and all.” He shook his head disapprovingly and sighed, looking again into Gilbert’s ashen face. “Don’t look like that, son. While there’s life, there’s hope.”

Gilbert’s gaze found its way back to Diana, still seated in the parlor. Her eyes lifted from the cup before her, the dark irises glistening with tears. She shook her head imperceptibly at his searching gaze, and he felt his blood run cold.

So, there was no hope of her then?

Gilbert shook Mr. Barry’s hand once more and thanked him weakly. He walked blindly across the lawn to where his horse was tied. Untangling the reins with numb fingers, he hoisted himself into the saddle and kicked the mare into a gallop.

Trees flung by him, the boughs groaning in the gathering storm, the sky above growing dark. Thin stalks of wheat shivered in the wind, the air growing thick and humid with the coming rain. A lone bird flew across his path, its frail wings working against the gusting wind as the first autumn leaves tore from limbs overheard.

And Anne was dying.

As the mare’s hooves beat into the soft ground, fear engulfed his heart. Every muscle in his body was taut in agonized vigil as he sped towards Green Gables.

He loved Anne, had always loved her. He knew that now. But the knowledge had come too late, too late even for the bitter solace of being with her at last after so many years.

All his hours spent alongside Dr. Ward at the bedsides of ailing patients could not prepare him for the sight of Anne in her bed, frail and unmoving, her hair spread across the pillow as if in a macabre halo. The wan skin of her forehead glistened with a sheen of cold sweat, her lips chapped and parted to allow the occasional wheeze to slip through.

Marilla sat beside her, hands clasped and head bowed, her lips moving in silent prayer. She straightened as Gilbert entered the gabled bedroom, his knuckles falling gently against the door.

He swallowed, his gaze fixed to Anne’s pallid cheeks and the faint quiver of her lip as each shallow breath passed over it.

“How is she?” he asked.

Marilla’s hand knotted over her heart. “She’s not expected to make it to the morning,” she whispered, tears filling her reddened eyes.

A strangled croak escaped from him then. He stood in the doorway, until Marilla rose from the chair, offering it to him.

“I’ll give you a moment,” she said kindly, her frail fingers gripping his as she passed him. The door fell shut quietly behind her as she slipped into the hall.

He swallowed roughly, dragging in a breath before taking the seat beside the bed.

Anne’s fingers were limp in between his palms, the skin cold and slick with sweat. He leaned his forehead against their clasped hands, his elbows sinking slightly into the firm mattress.

“Oh Anne,” he whispered, his eyes closing as his unshed tears finally spilled down his wind-stained cheeks. “I’ve been so blind, so foolish.”

He blinked so as to make out her ashen face. Her features were strained as she fought for air, her breaths rattling in her chest and sticking in her throat.

“And now,” he said, the words garbled as he choked on his tears, “Now I fear that you will go from this life not knowing how much I care, how much I love you.”

Slumping further forward in his seat, Gilbert released an anguished sob. He clung to Anne’s lifeless fingers as a tremble overtook his tall frame.

He imagined going away from this room, descending the stairs, mounting his horse, and returning to his life, all with the knowledge that Anne never would. She would never again rise from this bed to smile up into the midday sun or laugh in delight as she drew a perfect loaf from the oven.

The years without her stretched empty and black before him, and he was sure that he could not live through them. Quavering lips pressed to her cold fingers, he found himself wishing for the first time in his life that he could die too. If Anne went away from him, without a word or sign or message, he could not live.

Nothing was of any value without her.

He belonged to her and her to him. In his agony, he had no doubt of that.

He did not love Winnie, never had loved Winnie. Oh, what a fool he had been not to realize what the bond was that had held him to Anne all these years – to think that the flattered fancy he had felt for Winifred Rose had been love. And now, he thought bitterly, he must pay for his folly as for a crime.

He wept at her bedside until exhaustion overcame him.

When he awoke, birds were calling to one another outside the window, hopping along the thin boughs of the cherry tree there. White light filtered through the pane, warm and innocent.

Fingers brushed softly against his cheek, and he blinked beneath their tenderness.

“Gil,” she whispered, his name rough in her throat.

He started, straightening as the memory of all that had transpired the afternoon before rushed back into his mind, sending an icy shiver through his heart. But she was here, smiling at him with cracked lips, her fingers reaching for his beside her.

“You came home,” she whispered, her head lolling heavily across the pillow. Her grey eyes, so often steeled against him, crinkled in pleasure as he leaned nearer.

“I came as soon as I heard,” he said, running his thumb over the back of her hand. It was warm under his touch.

Before he could say more, the door opened behind him, and Mrs. Lynde bustled into the room, a towel in hand. She bade him out of the room so that Anne might bathe in a cool bath so as to feel better that much sooner.

Unwillingly, he abandoned her hand with a small squeeze of her fingers. He rose to leave, pausing at the door.

“I’ll wait for you.”

She smiled at him weakly as Mrs. Lynde pressed her palm to her forehead.

As Gilbert closed the door behind him, a psalm his father had loved came to his mind:

Anne’s smile wilted a little as she took in their surroundings. It was a charming bookshop right in the heart of Boston, with a little podium at the front and rows and rows of chairs lined up facing it. Any other time she would have been thrilled to be there, but there was just one thing spoiling the otherwise perfect day.

“Oh Gil, I hope you’re not too disappointed we had to cancel our wedding trip for my book reading.”

“Disappointed?” Gilbert repeated, his brow furrowed. “Far from it! Anne, I love you more than anything. You know that we could be taking a trip all the way to the moon, and it wouldn’t matter so long as I was with you. This book is an amazing achievement, and I couldn’t possibly be prouder of you.”

Anne blushed prettily, complimenting her pale skin. “Dr. Blythe, please don’t say such things in public when I’m forbidden from showing you exactly how much I appreciate them.”

“Apologies, Mrs. Blythe,” Gilbert said, his smirk belying his contrite words. “It won’t happen again, I swear.”

The distance between them had become scant, and Anne’s lips were tantalizingly close enough that if he just dipped his head a bit, he would be able to press his mouth to hers. Ever since their wedding, it had become almost impossible for Gilbert to keep his hands, and lips, off of his bride. It was especially difficult when one had an equally willing and eager bride such as he did. Said bride was looking at him with coy green eyes that conveyed she didn’t truly mind a break in propriety.

He would have been happy to oblige her but there was a sudden clatter and ringing of a bell as the shopkeeper, a pleasantly plump woman in her late 50’s, hustled inside, shutting the door behind her. She gave a squeak of excitement as she spotted Anne and Gilbert, who parted reluctantly and with some embarrassment.

Mrs. Winthrop seemed too distracted to notice. “Oh, Miss Cuthbert—Oh, my apologies! Mrs. Blythe! There is quite the crowd gathering outside for your reading. Shall I start letting them inside?”

Anne swallowed, her hold on Gilbert’s hand tightening, but she managed a polite smile. “Yes, Mrs. Winthrop,” she said, “I suppose it’s almost time to begin.”

Anne turned away and looked up at Gilbert with renewed apprehension. He smiled and placed a kiss on her forehead.

“You’ll be sensational, darling,” he told her confidently. “If you need any encouragement, just look for me. I’ll be right in the back, the whole time.”

She took a deep, calming breath and nodded. Gilbert watched as she made her way to the front of the room, smoothing down non-existent wrinkles on her dress. He wanted to be up there with her, but this wasn’t his moment to be in the spotlight, it was hers: her very first book reading of her very first published book. He was just about bursting with pride.

He stepped off to the side as Mrs. Winthrop opened the front doors. Almost immediately, people started trickling in: children pulling parents along, young men and women of college age, and even a few older folks with a gleam of adventure in their eyes. The children clamored to the front of the room to get good seats, each clutching a copy of the new book in their hands, talking excitedly amongst themselves.

Soon, all of the seats were filled, leaving many to stand along the sides. It was an incredible turn out, and a smile came over Gilbert's face as he spied Anne kneeling to talk to some children up near the podium, all signs of nervousness gone. She has a wonderful way with children, Gilbert thought to himself. Someday...

“Gilbert Blythe?”

Gilbert turned at the sound of his name to see a fair-haired woman, a little older than him, making her way through the crowd towards him. When she was finally in front of him, he was shocked to meet the brilliant blue eyes of Miss Winifred Rose of Charlottetown.

“Winnie?” He asked, incredulously.

She was the last person he ever expected to see in Boston, let alone that particular bookshop. It had been more than a few years since they’d last seen each other, and they hadn’t exactly parted on amicable terms. What did you say to the woman you’d once courted and almost proposed to?

“Ah ha, so it is you!” Winifred said triumphantly. She was just as statuesque and stylishly dressed as she was when they'd first met. Her eyes appraised him admiringly from top to bottom. “Gilbert Blythe, as I live and breathe! My, my, you’ve grown into quite the handsome man, haven’t you?”

Gilbert laughed, put at ease by her friendly demeanor. “And you’re even more lovelier than I remember,” he replied. “If I might ask, what are you doing in Boston?”

“Oh, I live here now,” said Winifred. She flashed her wedding ring flippantly. “My husband is heir to a shipping enterprise that calls Boston its home port. I’ve been here, why, it must be at least two years now, though we like to travel back and forth between Paris, depending on the season. But enough about me, dear Gilbert, I am very surprised to happen upon you in this bookshop. What brings you to Boston from far away P.E.I.? Are you here for the book reading?”

“You could say that,” Gilbert hedged with a smile. “The author is my wife.”

“Your wife?” Winifred echoed, in a tone that was somehow both surprised and pleased. “How extraordinary! I had not the slightest idea A.S. Cuthbert was a woman! But, who—?” She wondered, casting her eyes towards the front of the room. A small gasp escaped her as she beheld Anne, standing near the podium, speaking to Mrs. Winthrop now. “Is that—oh, but it is! Your Anne from Avonlea?”

“A.S. Cuthbert—Anne Shirley Cuthbert. Anne Blythe, now,” Gilbert added, sure he would always get a certain thrill out of saying the words. He watched Anne smile at Mrs. Winthrop, her face lighting up, and felt his own smile grow. “Her publisher insisted that she use a nom de plume for a least her first couple of books, and Anne was so enchanted by the idea of having a nom de plume that she actually agreed to it. She started writing the book shortly after we got engaged, while I was away at medical school and she was teaching, so it’s been almost a three year process.”

“Her book has become quite popular here in the States,” Winifred informed him. “You must be very proud.”

“Proud is almost too insignificant a word,” he said absentmindedly, his gaze still focused across the room.

After a moment’s silence, he realized how rude he was being and looked away from his wife to find Winifred studying him with an indulgent smile on her face.

“Love looks good on you, Dr. Blythe,” Winifred observed. She chuckled to herself. “You know, back when you broke things off with me, I thought, well, he’ll be back in a couple weeks, but you never did come back.”

“Winifred, I’m so sorry,” Gilbert started to say, but Winifred cut him off.

“Oh dear, don’t apologize!” She laughed, patting his hand. “You didn’t wound me, only my ego perhaps. It was good of you to call the whole thing off before there were any commitments made. We wouldn’t have suited each other in the end. And besides, Anne was always your destiny. I see that now.”

Gilbert smiled, glad that there were no hard feelings between them. “I’m really happy I ran into you again, Winifred.”

“As am I, Gilbert,” she replied. Her blue eyes were wistful, yet sincere as she regarded him. “I wish you and your Anne all the happiness in the world. Now, the reading looks to be beginning, and I left my niece and nephew with their nanny, so let me rejoin them. I trust I can count on you to reintroduce me to your wife later in order to procure a few signed copies?”

“Of course,” Gilbert readily agreed.

Winifred nodded in farewell and wound her way through the crowd to find her seat. Gilbert shook his head, thinking back to those turbulent years of his youth when he was sure Anne would never care for him the way he did for her. Winnie had been beautiful, witty, and easy to be with, but there’d been one crucial flaw: she wasn’t Anne.

The thing about Anne was that she had challenged him like no one else in his entire like, and not just in regards to schoolwork; she had pushed and shaped him into becoming not only a better man, but a better human being. She was pure light and warmth, and Gilbert had always been turned to her like a plant to the sun. Their love had been hard fought and full of obstacles, mostly of their own making, but he wouldn’t change their story for anything.

“Attention everyone, attention!” Mrs. Winthrop called at the front of the bookshop, jolting Gilbert back to the present. Everyone in the audience ceased their chatter, an air of anticipation among them. “It is my great pleasure to introduce you to the author of The Many Adventures of Cordelia Fitzgerald, Miss A.S. Cuthbert!”

Mrs. Winthrop started clapping and the rest of the crowd joined in, Gilbert included, as she motioned to Anne to come forward. Anne stepped up to the podium, and Gilbert could tell even from the back of the room that her nerves had returned in full force. Her wide eyes searched the audience until they found his at last. He mustered every ounce of love and assurance he could into his expression, giving her an encouraging nod that hopefully read, You can do this .

She nodded back, taking a deep, steadying breath. Before his eyes, she transformed into the poised, confident woman he knew her to be.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Winthrop,” she said, a bright smile on her face as she surveyed the audience. “And thank you all for joining me here today. It makes my heart swell a hundred times over to see that Cordelia has struck a chord with so many people. She helped me get through a very rough time in my childhood, and for that, I’ll always be indebted to her. So, without further ado, The Many Adventures of Cordelia Fitzgerald.”

Anne dove into the first chapter with the same charisma and gusto she always had when doing a recitation. The fact that it was her own writing she was reading was awe-inspiring to him. He, who had read and helped edit the book too many times to count, followed along mentally, focused entirely on Anne’s animated face as she spoke. The audience was equally enthralled, with Anne’s voice being the only sound in the room besides the turning of pages as they read along with her.

As she finished the chapter with a flourish, the assembly burst into applause, and Gilbert whistled exuberantly through his fingers. True to his word, he called for an encore, and his cheer was soon taken up by the rest of the crowd. Up at the podium, Anne smiled, practically laughing with joy and relief, her sparkling eyes finding his again across the room. He winked at her, grinning widely as she returned the saucy gesture with a wink of her own.

“Very well, very well, I’ll read the next chapter, if that will satisfy you all?” Anne asked playfully to raucous cries of approval.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as she began the next chapter. They’d been married for two weeks, and sometimes he felt like he’d wake up and it’ll all have been a wonderful dream. Every morning he woke up with her in his arms he thanked his lucky stars that he had followed his heart all those years ago and not given up on Anne, even when he’d stupidly thought he had every reason to. He’d made a choice then, one that had felt hard at the time as a young man with so many expectations weighing on him. But watching his beautiful, passionate wife up there at the podium, fulfilling her dreams, he knew he would make the same choice over and over again, in any lifetime, in any universe.

These past few weeks had left Anne focusing solely on studying for her entrance exams--and also aiding in Diana’s quest for experiencing as much freedom as possible before leaving for finishing school. Tonight happened to be her second to last evening until she was on a boat headed toward the French coast, which made Anne obligated to support any rational wishes of her dear kindred spirit, Diana.

“Oh Anne,” Diana whispered, leaning into their interlocked arms as they continued their journey onward, the low brush catching hold their skirts. “Isn’t this simply thrilling? Sneaking out to a late night swim with girls and boys,” she remarked as if she could not quite believe the words she was saying. “I don’t think I can ever properly thank you for coming with me.”

“What are bosom friends for, Diana? I desire to spend every last minute I can with you before you depart from me,” Anne replied, casting her friend a longing glance, which caused Diana’s happy smile to falter slightly at the reminder.

“How will I live without you?” she questioned mournfully..

The girls walk persisted in the forest until they saw the dim light of lanterns along the edge of the trees where the woods met a grassy expanse before dipping into the small lake. Anne noticed Tilly and Jane sitting together on a blanket, eating delicate baked goods that she assumed only Ruby herself could have made, for she was one of the most talented bakers of their class. 

What led her eyes widen in surprise, however, was not the amount of pastries that lay amongst them, but the articles of clothing. For her friends were dressed in nothing besides their undergarments. Both of the Paul’s waived in their direction upon noticing the most recent arrivals, and Anne knew for certain right then and there, that if Marilla found out about their little celebration, or anyone in Avonlea for that matter, she would most definitely never be allowed to leave her room until the day she died. The boys only wore their trousers, while their shirts and undershirts had likely been discarded in the clothing heap around her. Their exposed chests quickly made Anne look away in shame. 

This was scandalous. Anne feared the minister would undoubtedly damn them all to hell if she had not already upset God enough to damn herself to hell due to one of her numerous past follies. 

To her left, Diana was wasting no time in stripping off the many layers she wore, tossing them aside hurriedly. She ran directly toward the water and leapt in next to Ruby and Moody with a great laugh. Anne could only stand and stare at her friends, trying to come to a decent conclusion of what to do in her mind. 

She had never been exactly sentimental in regards to her figure, despite the way some of her leaner parts had filled in thanks to Marilla’s cooking and a growth spurt. It was dark enough outside that hardly anyone would be able to see her properly. There would be no one to stare at her pasty, pale skin or the dusting of freckles down her arms and chest. Feeling more emboldened than before, Anne closed her eyes and unbuttoned the back of her dress and brought it down around her ankles. She bunched the fabric against her chest and ventured toward the lake in hopes of feeling the water before getting in with the others. 

She recognized the figures wading at the water’s edge too late.

“Well if it isn’t Anne,” Billy commented, drawing nearer to her feet, wearing a provoking expression.

“Aren’t you going to get in, Anne?” Josie added, looking at her skeptically. “Or you afraid? Do you even know how to swim?”

“You never know what kinds of creatures are in the mood to sneak up from behind and attack,” jeered the annoying blonde, splashing a wave of water in Anne’s direction, which mostly ended up in Josie’s hair. Anne jumped back with a gasp. 

“Billy!” Josie exclaimed angrily, her mouth agape in surprise as she reeled around to face him. She returned the action with an enormous splash of her own, and the two seemed to forget about continuing their stream of ignorant comments as they became too engrossed in their game.

Turning on her heel, Anne promptly started in the opposite direction of the lake, her heartbeat loud enough to hear reverberating in her ears. Flashes from her childhood were looming in the forefront of her mind. The older girls at the orphanage pushing her into a body water on a rare outing, mocking her as she screamed for help and desperately tried to stay afloat by using her flailing arms. One of the Hammond boys pouring an ice cold bucket of water on her as she scrubbed the kitchen floors. She didn’t want to do this. Not on her lasting evening with Diana. Working to gain control of her breathing, she closed her eyes and attempted to do what Miss Stacey recommended. Think of the positives. Instruct your mind to recall joyful memories. Her heartbeat began to slow.

Suddenly, Anne felt the soft fingertips of someone graze her bare shoulder and she spun around in a flurry of anger, only for her poor face to almost meet a noticeably broad, quite exposed, dripping wet chest. She let out a small yelp and nearly jumped out of her skin as she stumbled backward, her foot catching on a tree limb as she flailed helplessly, trying to find anything other than the person in front of her to grab onto to keep her from toppling to the forest floor in a graceless heap.

The shadowy someone reacted instinctively by grabbing ahold of her waist to steady her, making sure she had regained her balance fully before slowly releasing his grip. For she most certainly would not have appreciated if he held on for a moment longer after the fright he had caused her. 

“Anne, I’m so sorry,” Gilbert whispered into the night air, his hand coming up to meet the back of his head while doing his best to find the right words in continuing forward from the awkward moment. “I came to see if you were okay. We all know how Josie and Billy can be, and Anne, you are at no obligation to get in that water. The choice ultimately yours, not theirs.”

Squaring her shoulders in a posture of confidence that she truly wish she could find in this mortifying moment, Anne looked anywhere and everywhere other than at the dark haired boy in front of her. For she feared if she looked at him a second longer, she may spit out words she would undoubtedly regret, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach threatening to make their way upward and erupt from her mouth if she opened it.

She needed to get away from him. Far, far away. The effect he was having on her in this moment was beginning to ruin all of the things she believed to be true about their friendship. And that was what they were. Friends. Only friends. He was a healthy rival, someone she confided in and trusted with thoughts and dreams others would surely find an opportunity to ridicule. Not a romantic ideal, yet that was what the twinge in her chest was threatening to reveal, and she was in no mood to try to sort through that feeling right now. 

Gilbert continued to stare at her, waiting expectedly for some kind of, any sort of reply. However, Anne only gave him a slight nod in acknowledgment at his gracious reminder and kind words, then pulled her crumpled dress tighter to her chest, and walked past him in determination. She marched straight to the edge of the water again, tentatively testing the temperature with the tips of her toes.

“That’s it Anne!” came Moody’s call from nearby. He waded only meters away from where she stood, Charlie, Diana, and Ruby at his side, laughing and splashing each other. Ruby screamed in protest as Diana splashed at significant amount of water into her face. This is where she needed to be. With the people that she unequivocally loved. 

Anne inhaled deeply, pushing aside the demons of her past that had been threatening to consume her, and gently placed her dress in a neat pile next to the other girls’ dresses. Turning around with a resounding breath, she walked back to her gaggle of friends and dived before she could change her mind. 

The initial shock of the icy feeling in the dark water overtook her, but recalling all of the lessons Matthew, Marilla, Diana and the rest of her friends had given her, Anne moved her legs and arms, pushing her body to the surface. When she emerged with a breathless gasp, Diana and Ruby were right by her side, their faces revealing joyous smiles.

“We knew you could do it, Anne,” Ruby praised in her tiny, mouse-like voice that Anne adored so fondly.

Directly behind her came another large splash, rocking the water hard enough to form small ripples. Anne had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and her hesitations were confirmed when she saw Ruby’s face light up in the moonlight. 

“Gilbert!” The boys broke off in a fast swim toward the newest member who had joined them in the lake. Both dipped under the water, clearly catching him off guard, and lifted him up on their shoulders, throwing him off in the direction closer to where Anne, Diana, and Ruby treaded. Anne turned her head and shut her eyes to avoid the remnants of the splash.

Rising to the surface, Gilbert broke through the water forcefully, shaking free the droplets clinging to his hair. Anne tried to look away with all her might. Yet she could not. Somehow she found this scene too mesmerizing and beautiful to try and ignore. Yes, Gilbert was a beautiful sight to behold. His strong form outlined against the black, starry night and radiated from the full moon that hung low in the sky.

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, what is wrong with you?

He seemed to take notice of her attention, and took it as an opportunity to swim in her direction, his chin resting in the water, arms spreading outward and propelling him forward. Anne suddenly pictured herself as the prey waiting to be devoured by the hungry alligator she had read about in one of the books that Miss Stacey had loaned her. Logically, she should have tried fleeing from him, but his eyes seemed to freeze her in place.

When he reached her, he gave her a devilish-look that only meant one thing when it came to Gilbert. “Seeing as we both tied fair and square for the Queen’s exams,” he acknowledged, rightfully so, Anne noted. “What do you say to a friendly tie-breaker?” His left eyebrow rose slightly, edging her on to accept this unknown competition.

Figuring that she truly had nothing to lose at this point, since school and exams were done until Queen’s, Anne returned his questioning stare with a resilient one of her own. “You make an equitable point Mr. Blythe,” she answered as seriously as she could, trying not to let him detect the hint of playfulness in her tone. “What do you have in mind?”

Gilbert explained the rules of the game to their circle of friends. He would sit on Moody’s shoulders and Anne would sit on Charlie’s shoulders. The two would then attempt to be the first to knock the other off of their partner’s shoulders. Anne seriously wondered what she had gotten herself into, for Gilbert was far stronger and sturdier than she as revealed by his topless form. Which she was doing her best not to think about. Not at all.

Ducking down, Anne got upon Charlie, and checking to make sure she was securely on his shoulders, slowly began to lift himself out of the water, holding tightly onto her legs as he went. Anne’s stomach churned uneasily as gazed down from her viewpoint at Diana and Ruby who stared back up in nervous anticipation. Much to her displeasure, some of the other students started to take notice of the scene that was about to unfold, and swam to join the girls, including the horrid Billy Andrews and Josie Pye. 

“Let’s go Gilbert! Put this skinny orphan in her place!” Billy taunted from below, which made the blood in Anne’s veins begin to boil. She in no way desired to injure her friend, but winning always meant something noteworthy when it came to the pair. Anne would put up her best fight. 

She looked ahead at Gilbert, who rested firmly and effortlessly on Moody’s shoulders. Anne took a large gulp of air to assist in the clearing of her head. Then Charlie carefully maneuvered them forward until the curly-haired boy was close enough to touch. 

“Ready?” he asked quietly, the corners of his lips raising to form a smirk. Anne gave him a brisk nod in reply, her eyes narrowing in on her opposition, while her heart jumped at the sudden contact of his long fingers interlacing with hers. He held their hands up, at collarbone level, in preparation for the battle that was about to begin.

“On the count of three,” Josie called uninterestedly. “One—“ His grip on her fingers tightened. “Two—“ Anne mirrored his body by leaning toward their embrace. “Three!”

Both used their muscles to exert force at the same time, Gilbert’s distinctly harder than Anne’s, and Charlie teetered slightly under the movement from above. She could hear the class cheering from below, the boys shouting Gilbert’s name and the girls, Anne’s. The redhead grunted, extending her arms as far as possible to resist the effort Gilbert was making in trying to get her to topple off of Charlie. He countered her attack, yet she noticed a slight shift in his demeanor.

Giving a final push with as much strength as she could muster, she watched as the boy before her began to fall sideways into the water. It was almost as if she were observing him from a dream because she only became aware that their fingers remained interlocked when she felt her body drifting off of Charlie shortly after Gilbert slid from his perch on Moody.

Landing in the water, her frame met his almost immediately, and she feared she might have hurt him. His body burned against hers as his back met the lake floor. Reaching out her arms, she wrapped her fingers around his shoulders to check if he was responsive. However, as soon as she touched him, his arms wrapped around her waist soundly, and they began their descent up to the surface. For a moment, they were suspended in time. Just him and her. Floating with no point of reference. Then Anne was coughing up the unexpected water from her chest when she met the warm night air again. Gilbert let her go as their friends gathered around to see if they were alright, and when it was confirmed that they were fine, they started cheering for Anne’s close victory.

“I guess that settles it then,” Gilbert informed her affectionately from over her shoulder. “Fair and square, Anne-girl.” His eyes met hers proudly as he and Moody hoisted her up on either side of their shoulders. Anne returned his admiration with a hidden smile. 

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In the late hours of the night, Anne lay silently in her bed, staring up at the cracks on the ceiling, doing her best to will her mind to concentrate onto any other subject than him, for she wondered if she would get any sleep if every time she closed her eyes, she returned to that moment in the lake where his form was displayed so royally that she believed she could write endless poems and stories about a lonely, beautiful sea creature seeking the company of an equally desolate princess only when a full moon arose high above the shining waters. 

It was the story evolving in her head that eventually lulled her to sleep. She drifted into a dream where a young boy, with the warmest brown-eyes, purposefully lost a spelling bee to a small, thin girl with the most horrendous red hair in a little white schoolhouse simply due to the fact that he forgot to add an ‘e.’