A/N: This is a repost of the story that was formerly in the "Jane Austen" category. Previously part of a series of modern one-shots. PREMISE: Given the opportunity to make amends for their behaviour, how would the story of our favourite heroes and heroines change?

Please read and review!

Wishes

I wish...I never listened to my family.

(Anne Elliot)

At nineteen, I certainly had a lot less cares in the world then I do now, aged twenty-seven.

Back then, I was easily persuaded by those around me, those I counted as friends, family, dearly loved.

At nineteen, I found myself entangled with a man who I could see myself living the rest of life with. You may scoff at my foolish romantic notion, but I knew without a doubt that this man was The One.

He was physically attractive, intellectually stimulating and ideologically matched me where it counted.

I was a second year economics student, hoping to get into law school, and Frederick was an exchange student from the UK, staying with his brother who worked at a church that was associated with an on-campus Christian group.

He was there for the semester, and he was in my Intermediate Macroeconomics tutorial, and sat directly opposite me. All the girls in the class, including the tutor, was infatuated with him... His accent, his charm, his sexy habit of biting his lip as he attempted to verbalize ideas which sprung to mind as the class discussion progressed. We were always super aware of how we were dressed in this class, many choosing tight, revealing clothes, hoping to catch the eye of Frederick Wentworth.

I never dared hope to even talk to him directly outside of class, and chose to admire from a distance, but it wasn't to be.

I had tagged along with my best friend, Harriet Smith, to a public meeting organized by the Christian group. Although I was a Christian, I had been weary if joining groups, as I was serious about studying and getting into post-grad law.

Harriet had spent the better part of the semester trying to get me out of my introverted rut that I was quite comfortable in- meeting people and having to be sociable was not high on my agenda.

But on my first visit, I was welcomed by none other than Edward Wentworth, who had apparently heard good things about me. Slightly confused, I didn't make the connection till later, much later in my friendship with Frederick... Fred.

As I attended more events held by the group, the more I saw Frederick. After a particularly trying class, he suggested we go out for coffee, and it was there, in the company of some pretty awful coffee, that we spoke to each other on something more meaningful than an upcoming assessment.

He told me about his childhood, and how he had been his parents unexpected child- his other siblings where I we fifteen years older than him. He had spent the very beginning of his life in the Australia, but when his parents were victims of a hit and run in Sydney as they were hurrying to see a performance, he was shipped to his mother's relatives in the UK, whilst his older bother and sister finished university. Since then, he'd been shunted from one relative to another, finding it disheartening that most of his family didn't approve of his minister brother or holistic sister, hearing excuse after excuse as to why he couldn't return Down Under.

In turn, I told him of my dearly loved, deceased mother who had died from an impossible struggle against cervical cancer, my selfish proud fool of a father who had spent his way to his current economic situation of relative discomfort from the excesses he was accustomed to. I told stories of her youth- of a vain elder sister and a hypochondriac younger sister.

Soon we were meeting everyday. The honesty that first characterized our first meeting wasn't fully lost, but I became guarded with one thing- my growing, affection for him that was more than I had ever experienced with anyone of the opposite sex. His friends became my friends, and vice versa. Whilst most of my friends went AWOL with suspiciously fake IDs, we spent our time learning each other's quirks and habits.

I knew I had to guard my heart. Fred was only going to be with me, in the States, till the end of the semester, and wanting anything more than friendship was foolish and far too Romantic for my usual cool, rational self. I knew my father wouldn't approve, considering Fred's family where relatively unknown and that Fred had no trust fund to his name. I could hear my godmother tell me the one thousand and one reasons why I couldn't seriously consider myself attaching myself to a man when I was still, in many aspects, still just a girl. I was yet to take a year off to find my true self, as she had done in the sixties in retaliation to her own parents.

One can't control what the heart wants, and it was really stupid of me to fall head over heels in love with Fred.

And I suspected that my feelings were mutual.

Somehow we changed from mere friends to being 'an item'.

We were teased mercilessly by our friends, and it was joked that we would be the first from the gang to get married.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking on my part, but I sometimes saw a hint of longing in his eyes.

It was then I realized that unless he was committee in making our relationship to work, the thing we had together would be pointless.

But we never talked about him going back to the UK. It never seemed appropriate to bring it up in conversation, and soon we were busy with exam preparation. We didn't sit to have a serious talk till the evening after the lady exam.

Frederick was desperately needed back with his family, and he had booked the first flight to Heathrow after exams.

We met for dinner at a local diner, and it was there he told me he about the situation 'back home', and that he was unsure when the next time he'd return to Sydney.

I was speechless.

I thought that what we had was worth more than a maybe I'll return one day soon. He thought that we could retain a semblance of the relationship with emails and letters. He promised that he would wait for me, that he planned to move back to Australia for good when he finished uni.

He had it all planned out, and I hated the plan.

I told him that I was an Elliot, and was expected to do better than some unknown like him, who had no social reputation that my family could even consider connecting their name to. I told him that he was fun for the ride, but there were other amusements I fancied.

I told him I thought we were worth more than a 'maybe' every year. I told him that if I was in his eyes I was less important to him than the relations he disliked, then I wouldn't stick around. I was looking for a first rate relationship, not the one that was waiting back home whilst he was our doing God knows what.

I gave him an ultimatum.

Stay or go.

Stay, and prove that I am the most important person in his mind, or go, and take the coward's way out and show I wasn't worth staying for.

I left him looking distressed at the diner, and I thought, in my deepest heart, that we were through.

I didn't want to leave my bed after that confrontation. My heart was broken, and there was only one way for it to make a full recovery. On the first day of my new found depression, Harriet comforted me, but on the second day she was gone, presumably for her final, most dreaded, exam. I was worried when she hadn't returned at 8 pm. I knew she was in her lucky sweats, which she only ever wore out when she had an exam- and she would have rushed back to get changed if she was to go out for celebratory drinks.

In no time at all, I heard the tell tale scraping of the key in the lock, and the jiggle of the handle because of the sticking handle.

I buried my head deeper into my blankets as I heard soft footsteps approaching my closed door- Harriet was undoubtedly going to try to get me out of bed and dress me up for a night out- we had to clean out our room tomorrow, before heading home for semester break.

"I'm not in the mood... Go away!" I yelled from beneath the sheets.

I heard chuckling, but it definitely not Harriet.

It was Frederick.

I still wasn't ready to talk to him yet, so he did most of the talking.

He told me how the words had tortured him. How he couldn't stop kicking himself for being so stupid to have not talked to me about the plan for OUR future. How he had applied for a transfer, after talking to his brother. How he planned to be with me till I was fed up with him.

And now, eight years later, I still hadn't got fed up with him. Just the opposite in fact. After a relatively long courtship and an even longer engagement, we were finally about to tie the knot.

It had taken a long time for my father to agree to the marriage. When we were first engaged, we were both about to start law school. We had no tangible prospects financially. It wasn't till the death of one of Frederick's wealthy, distant uncles from his father's side that lead to a windfall of money and property that my father really saw Frederick as a real contender as a connection to the esteemed and ancient Elliot family.

Almost a year of planning- the colour scheme, the location, the flowers, the decoration, the dress, the reception, the gift registry, the honeymoon, the tuxes, the food- everything was ready. Well... if it all went to plan...

But the most important thing that was going to happen, even if everything else went awry, was going to happen.

I would be Anne Wentworth by the end of the day.

Please leave a review, and check out my profile to the links to other stories that are part of the "Wishes" series.