Hello again, dear readers! So the feedback from the last chapter was so amazing. I think I shocked some of you with that kiss! Well this chapter deals with the fallout... I have to warn this is where it gets hard for them... but it has too. I am not big on angst and I am not the type to string it along needlessly as a plot device either. Trust me when i say its necessary to the story. What some might call angst here, I would prefer to think of it as drama and feeling. Whatever it is, I hope you will forgive it/enjoy it just a bit here and in the coming chapters, as I hope it will all be worth it in the end. I wish I could express my gratitude at all the favs, follows and reviews better than mentioning it every time I post, but it can't be overstated how much I appreciate it.

Enjoy!

The New Year rang in rather quietly at Green Gables, with the flip of the calendar doing little to change the everyday hum of life. Anne would be going back to school in a week and though she would miss everyone dearly, the bloom had come off the rose of being home since the awful incident with Gilbert. She was ready to go back to Patty's Place, desperate to lose herself in philosophy and literature.

Anne had now had several days to process all that had happened on New Year's Eve. She found the longer she thought about it, the angrier she became. It wasn't enough that she allowed Gilbert to kiss her, it wasn't enough that she reacted to him like a silly schoolgirl, it wasn't enough that he was brazen enough to do it, for all those things she could muster enough anger with him and with herself to put the fear of God into the devil. But the fact that angered her most was that he left her. He left her standing there in the cold and snow, alone and upset. Anne's reason didn't let herself understand what it must have been like for him in that moment. She was not ready to grant him any clemency.

But while she was full of anger at Gilbert, she had to acknowledge that she was not blameless in the whole mess. She was the one who refused to walk inside with him, she was the one who could not bring herself to move from her spot, she was the one who not only allowed him to kiss her, but most definitely responded to him with equal passion.

Anne was not yet ready to admit, however, that passion was what she had felt. The fact was, she didn't know how she felt, or why she had done it. Sitting alone at Green Gables finally allowed her to remember her conversation with Diana...

"Because I wanted to!" Anne's face went white when she said the words and Diana could hardly believe what she was hearing.

"Anne, I don't understand, why did you want to kiss him? What about Roy?"

Anne began to sob at the mention of Roy's name, "I don't know Diana, it all just happened. I couldn't have stopped it even if I wanted to."

Diana meant to be a little harsh on Anne. But seeing her in tears melted her resolve. She hugged Anne for several moments, allowing her to cry until she was spent.

"Anne, what does this mean? Do you having feelings for Gilbert after all?"

The visceral reaction was immediate, "As if I could have feelings for him! Diana, he left me, he wouldn't talk to me. He's ruined our friendship!"

"Oh, Anne don't say that! You two have to talk through this. Please don't punish him so harshly again. I am sure left because he was ashamed of himself and thought you would be angry with him. What he did was a complete breach in propriety."

Anne said nothing after this statement. Truth be told, she couldn't bring herself to give a lick about propriety at the moment. She might later on, after she had time to feel anything other than anger and loss. The vision of Gilbert walking away from her was in the forefront of her mind. It was exactly the image she had tried so hard to stop from happening. "I couldn't let him walk me inside." Anne suddenly said in a whisper.

"What?" asked Diana.

"Gilbert, he wanted to go inside and finish the dance, but I couldn't let him go. I knew that if we had that last dance, then it would never be the same. If I could keep him there with me, keep him close, then it wouldn't change. That's why I stayed. It's why I let him kiss me. I couldn't…"she stopped.

"Couldn't what, Anne?"

"I couldn't say goodbye!"

"But I thought you said he wanted to remain friends. It wouldn't have been goodbye, Anne." Diana was at somewhat of a loss. She had never had such a close male friend before. In fact, Gilbert was her closest male friend if she didn't count Fred. She had a hard time wrapping her brain around exactly the kind of relationship Anne had with Gilbert.

"Diana, you don't understand. It would have been goodbye in the only way that mattered. The only way that we've ever been." Diana had no idea what to make of that statement. But it was clear to her that Anne was feeling more than anger and loss.

"So what was supposed to happen after the kiss?" Diana asked boldly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if Gilbert had stayed to talk to you, what would you have said or done? How was that all going to end?"

Anne had though about it for a moment. She honestly didn't know and it didn't really even matter. So all she could say is, "I guess we'll never know, will we?"

Diana replied, "But what we can know is how you feel about this kiss? You've told me why you did it, even if I am not sure I understand. We know why Gilbert did it. And now that it happened, how do you feel about it?"

And that was the thought that brought Anne back to the present. She could not explain to Diana how the kiss made her feel because she wasn't quite sure herself. Even now, days later she could not put into words the feelings that had coursed through her in response to the touch of his lips to hers. Or perhaps she didn't want to. That it was the first time she had been kissed was not lost on her. She could not help but think, however, that what she may feel about it was now was rather clouded by her anger with Gilbert.

Until that was dealt with, Anne was hopeless to unpack whatever other feelings were lurking beneath the surface of her tormented mind.

So, with all those thoughts swirling in her mind, she should have been surprised that in the next moment she heard a knock at the door. But she wasn't, for she knew it was him, she knew he would come. Whether she was happy or angry that he would show up now she could not say. That is until she opened the door to his repentant face. Or was it uncertainty? In that moment she felt relief. Relief he hadn't decided to walk out of her life.

Gilbert had thought of little else in the past two days than about what he would say to Anne when he saw her. In fact, he had rehearsed his apology so many times in his head that it was all he could do not to blurt it out the moment she opened the door. But he managed to restrain himself enough to say, "Hi, Anne."

Anne said nothing. But she merely swept to the side to let him walk in. She noticed immediately that he only removed his hat and gloves, but left his jacket on, as though his visit would be brief. Anne became rather annoyed very quickly.

"Is there some place we could talk…privately?"

Anne led him into the parlor, "We can talk in here. There's no one else here. Marilla and Rachel are at sewing circle and the twins aren't expected home for awhile yet." Gilbert looked around the room that now seemed somehow smaller than it ever did. He was glad they were alone. Then he shifted uncomfortably as he realized she was waiting for him to speak. "I guess you probably know why I am here."

She said nothing; evidently she would not work to make this easy for him. As though he should have expected she would. "Anne, I-I'm sorry for the other night. I got carried away and I never should have –done that. You came to me to tell me something as a friend and I made it all about me. It was wrong and I've been sorry ever since. I had no right to kiss you." He swallowed, "I hope you can forgive me."

Anne wanted to speak, but she didn't know what to say. He was apologizing for the wrong thing! Several moments passed in silence. He could read nothing from her face.

"Anne, won't you say something?" He pleaded with her, but Gilbert already resolved he would not beg her. The fault was his and he accepted that, but he had groveled enough at Anne Shirley's feet. Still she said nothing. Her silence angered him. He was trying his best to be calm, to put her needs first. But the reversion back to childish silence was too much.

In truth it wasn't childishness that Anne was entertaining, it was emptiness. Anne was empty at the moment.

"Fine, Anne, I'll go. I can accept that you won't forgive me. I guess I should have suspected you wouldn't." What he had meant was that what he had done was so terrible that he did understand her reluctance to accept his apology, but what Anne heard was entirely different.

Empty no more, she finally spoke, "And just what is that supposed to mean Gilbert Blyhte?" Her tone left no doubt that she angry.

"Anne, I just meant-"

"Don't try to explain anything, I understand what you meant!" He means to throw the past in my face!

"No, I don't think that you do, Anne." To try to counter act her anger, Gilbert spoke calmly, evenly. "I can understand you won't forgive me, but can't you at least talk to me?"

"Oh, so when Gilbert wants to talk, we can talk? Is that it?" Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Her meaning was not entirely lost on him. He recalled her calling him a coward. She was angry for more than he thought. What have I done! "I am sorry about the other night. But I wasn't in any condition to talk."

"Yes, you couldn't wait to get away from me!" She spoke rigidly, her body stiff.

"Anne, that wasn't it!"

"So then what was it? Why did you leave me standing by myself in the cold and snow?" It was entirely lost on Gilbert at this moment that Anne was chastising him for walking away from her, but not one word of censure crossed her lips about his kiss. He could not think of that for now, he was fighting against showing his own anger. "Because I thought that's what you wanted!" he tried to hide his bubbling emotions, but it was becoming harder. "Anne, I kissed you minutes after you told me you were sure you wanted to be with Roy, I was ashamed and angry at myself and I couldn't bear to look at the pain I caused you. I needed to get away."

"With no thought to what you left behind?"

"To what I… what?" Now he was angry. She was deliberately baiting him. "Anne all I did was think about what I was leaving behind! Not just that night, but forever! Do you really not get it by now!" He was exasperated. This was not going at all how he planned. He was stupid for believing she would give him a fair hearing. She meant to punish him.

He saw tears form in her eyes and he steeled himself. Making her cry was not on the list of things he wanted to accomplish with this visit. But her silence continued to frustrate him. He gave momentary thought to leaving abruptly. But he felt in his pocket for the letter he meant to put in her hands. Was this yet another foolish thing he was about to do? It wasn't meant for her. It was therapy for him, but it remained a jumbled mess of words that would probably only make sense to him. Could Anne see passed the confusion? On the way over to Green Gables, he had serious doubts about whether he would be able to give it to her. But now there seemed to be little to lose. With the reception he had just received, it would be the very definition of a last ditch effort.

"I won't keep you, Anne." He made every effort to keep his voice even. "I just came to apologize and to leave you this," he said, holding out his letter. She made no motion to take it just yet. "I am leaving today to go back to Redmond."

"What? But we aren't due back for another week!" she said shocked.

"Yes, but I have a lot to prepare for before term begins. I need to get a head start on my studies so I decided to go back early." It was mostly the truth.

"So you're leaving." It wasn't a question. Anne just needed to say the words to know they were real.

"Yes, I have to meet my father very shortly."

"When did you decide to leave early? Was it before or after New Year's Eve?"

"Does it matter?" he asked, confused.

"It does to me."

"Alright, well it was always an option. But I thought maybe it would be better to give you some space after what happened."

"So you're leaving because of me?"

Yes! "Anne, I am trying here to do what I can to salvage something from this wreckage. Can you meet me half way?" He pleaded again.

"So what's this then?" she asked, pointing to the letter in his hand, now down at his side.

"This?" he held it up again. "This is everything I need to say to you, everything I should have tried to show you from the day we became friends. And maybe some things that you don't want to hear."

"Can't you just tell me what you want to say?"

He only shook his head. Certainly not now!

"Why not?"

"Read it and you'll understand. Those are things I can't say out loud. Things I wrote before New Year's."

"And what I am supposed to do after I read it?" she said, taking the letter from him.

"That's up to you." The finality in his voice was clear. "I know what I hope you will do. But it's your choice. I have to go Anne, my father is waiting for me."

Yes, he was leaving! How could she forget? "Of course," she said tersely.

"I'll see you when term begins." He was dismissing her again!

He turned to leave, and Anne absently called after him.

"Gil, what happens if I don't want the letter, if I don't want to read it?"
Gilbert whirled around in an instant stare at her in utter disbelief and Anne did not miss the look of pure pain that crossed his whole countenance. Was she really being this cruel? He just stared at her for several minutes, still unbelieving of the words that came out of her mouth. And then, in the next moment, he gave in to his anger again. He took several steps towards her, until he was only inches from her face. He lowered himself only slightly and then spoke in an angry whisper. "I know I made a mistake Anne, but what your saying now is cruel. I came here to apologize, maybe it wasn't perfect, but it was real. I am sorry for everything, more than you know. That mistake may have cost me the only thing I've ever wanted. So if you don't want to read the letter, fine. But do me the decency of at least waiting until I leave before you condemn it to the fire. Perhaps it's where it should have gone from the beginning, along with all the rest!" And with that he was defeated. He had no fight left in him. Despite his anger, despite his hurt, looking into her fiery eyes sent another urge to kiss through his body. He would never love another.

Anne stared unwillingly into his eyes. She knew she had hurt him, she had meant to. She wanted him to experience the same pain she was feeling. But she realized instantly it wasn't worth whatever split second of satisfaction she had received from it. In fact, like so many other things she had said to him over the course of the past week, she regretted it almost instantly.

It was Gilbert who finally looked away, turning again to leave. She knew she needed to say something. That if she didn't there would be no chance of ever fixing this breach. As angry as she was at him, that possibility frightened her. He was almost to the door, putting on his hat and gloves. He opened the door and rush of cold air came through. But before he could step out, Anne's voice called him. "Gil! Gilbert, please wait." He heard the urgency and stopped. But he did not turn around. "I am sorry I said that. I will read it, I promise." Her tone was still cold, but contrite.

Gilbert still did not turn around, but Anne saw his shoulders slump slightly. A wave of relief spread through him momentarily, until it was quickly replaced by doubt and fear. He didn't trust himself to turn around so he merely looked back over his shoulder briefly, "Do what you want, Anne. It probably doesn't matter anymore." And then he walked out in the cold January wind, leaving Anne in tears once again.

He cursed himself almost as soon as he was outside. How have I a made such a complete mess of things? And a mess it was. Not only did she not forgive him, they argued again. He knew it was a mistake to leave, but he had to. His plans were set. He couldn't stay. And though it was clear Anne wanted him to, he feared nothing good could come from that right now. They were both too emotional, too angry, too hurt, too everything. As much as it pained him, as much as he wished it otherwise, they needed time apart. He needed time apart! She would read the letter, she said she would. And then he would know for sure whether he even had a chance at winning her. If the smallest chance existed, he would not give up. The wait would be torture, although his hope had dimmed considerably. Of all the women in the world Gilbert Blythe could have fallen madly in love with, he had to pick Anne Shirley. The girl with the temper, the girl with spirit and fire, the girl who had no qualms about doling out unjust punishments, the girl who would not be told what to do or how to act, the girl could and had taken such control over his heart that it was absolutely terrifying the power she held over him. But she was his Anne, even if she wasn't. She might never be… That was precisely why he had to leave… his letter needed to speak for him now.

Anne stood in the hall, staring at the closed door in front of her, hoping he would change his mind and come back. But he didn't. How long she stood there she could not say, it could have been five minutes or a hundred. He walked away again.

In her hand she held his letter. What it contained she could guess. Her first instinct was to throw it in the fire. Her hurt and anger all wanted her too. But she knew she could never. She promised she'd read it, even if by that time Gilbert no longer cared.

Anne slowly climbed the stairs to her room. Whatever Gilbert had to say would be told to her in the privacy of her own space. Anne thought she was perfectly prepared for what his letter would say. It was likely an apology and perhaps Gilbert would tell her how he felt about her. She hardly needed the letter to know either of those things anymore. So when she broke the seal on the envelope Anne thought she was prepared for what she was about to read. But Gilbert Blythe was not just any love-struck fool. And therefore, such a letter he did not write.

Dear Anne,

That's not usually how I start these letters to you. For a long time now, I have always used, 'Dear Carrots.' Not for the first letter though. Calling you Carrots was what got me into so much trouble in the first place, doubtless you remember. That first one I addressed to 'Anne with an E.' I thought emphasizing the E would give me the edge in getting you to forgive me for calling you 'Carrots.' But I never gave you that letter, just as I won't ever give you this one. You would probably think me a terrible fool if you even knew I was writing these and had been for a decade. Perhaps 'Perceval' could get away with that, but certainly not me. I am no romantic hero, am I, Anne? No, I am just your chum, Gil, aren't I? I should just be happy to be that, for long ago I had lost all hope of ever getting you to forgive me. But I am not just happy with that, Anne. And I don't think I could ever be. I can't go back to the boy I was before I fell in love with you. I can't go become a different sort of man who doesn't love you. I wish I could. I wish I could will myself not to love you. But then I think to myself, if not Anne, then who? And there's never an answer. Well maybe there is, the answer to the question 'who if not Anne' is simple. It's no one.

Sometimes I think back on our history together and I try to piece together just how and when I started to love you. If I were a hopeless romantic fool, I would tell you that the second I saw you I was desperately and irrevocably in love. But that wouldn't be true. I was certainly intrigued by you when I first saw you. Then you had the audacity to try to ignore me. Me, Gilbert Blythe! The handsome young boy with a rather cocky disposition who never had any trouble getting girls to look at him. But you didn't, Anne. That's how I knew you were different, that's when I knew you were special. But that's not when I fell in love with you, although of course that's where it all started. But there was no doubt I wanted to know you. But you wouldn't forgive me would you? I tried everything I could. I even wrote you a letter, just like this one, albeit that one was much shorter, with none of the emotional drama. That was the first one I ever wrote you, to apologize. I always waited for the right time to give it to you. But it never came. I finally burned it the day I rescued from the pond. I don't mind telling you, Anne, that I was mad that day. Convinced you didn't deserve another single minute of my time. Was I only so angry that day because I knew I loved you then? Maybe I was, but it was nothing I would have admitted to myself or anyone else. In truth, I was more than mad, I was furious. You would not be happy if you read the letter I wrote you on that occasion, Anne! Thankfully, I had sense enough to burn that one too. I managed to convince myself not to waste anymore time on you. But anyone who knows you must know how impossible it is to get you out of his or her mind. I tried not thinking of you so much, that all I did was think about you. Ironic, isn't it? That's when the letters really started. I was trying to purge you from my mind and from my heart. When I write these it's a chance to unburden my soul and then I feel renewed again, like I can face another day not knowing what the future holds.

But that doesn't satisfy the question does it? The truth is maybe I can't fix on the exact moment I fell for you, but I knew I was in love with you the second you took my hand at our gate all those years ago after I gave up Avonlea school. You wouldn't believe the flack I caught for that, Anne. People kept telling me I was a fool, I would never get to college that way. They asked me why I was doing it all for a girl who wouldn't give me the time of day. My parents never said that of course, I think they've always understood. I used to tell the busybodies I did it because it was the decent thing to do, the Christian thing to do. Think about my eternal reward for this grand gesture! It's what I tried to convince myself was the reason I did it. But the truth was, it was the easiest decision I have ever made. Giving you happiness, making your life easier was balm to my soul, Anne. It was as if my life finally had a greater purpose… to make you happy and to take care of you, even if from afar. I knew what I was giving up, I knew it would make my life harder, my dreams that much farther. But that all meant nothing to me that minute you held out your hand at my gate. Who needed any eternal reward when the touch of your hand gave me the greatest pleasure I had ever known?

And when we finally became the friends I always knew we could be, that love just grew. I guess I can tell you that when I first decided I wanted to be a doctor do you know what I thought? I wondered how you would feel about being a doctor's wife? Would you be proud of me? How would you feel if I had to leave our home in the middle of night to deliver babies or tend to the sick? Would you wait up for me until I got home and then come kiss me passionately? Or would I come home to a sleeping Anne, hair sprawled out on my pillow, peacefully dreaming? I thought I could get used to either of those images just fine. Those are the sorts of things I can never say to you. It's certainly not proper. Although, when have you and I really been considered proper anyways? But since you won't see this letter, I can indulge my fantasy a bit and not worry what's proper.

I bet I can guess what you're thinking now. I was pretty full of myself wasn't I? Fantasizing about being married to you… well I will confess that for along while I thought you returned my regard. Well if I am being honest, I thought I deserved it. After five years in exile at your hand and five more spent in kindred friendship, wasn't that just the natural conclusion? There, isn't that awful? That was the last vestige of cocky Gilbert Blythe! That Gilbert died that night last spring in the orchard at Patty's Place. Do you remember that night, Anne? I was going to propose to you that night. I had little doubt of my reception. But you were acting so strange, like you wished me gone. In no time at all I was forced to think back on all our recent time together. I quickly realized speaking then would have been a fool's errand. So I didn't. I try not to regret it and I don't since I am still convinced you would have said no. But it pretty well shattered my dream I will admit.

But it never shattered my feelings for you. If anything, it brought me the clarity I needed to realize just how much you mean to me and just how much I was likely unworthy of you. I had taken you for granted, something I always promised myself I would never do. Not after I worked so hard to gain your friendship. I realized the perils of being in love with your best friend meant that the stakes are that much higher, the risks too great. After Patty's Place, I meant to regroup, to figure out what to do next.

And then Prince Charming showed up! Yes, Royal Gardner! I get it, I know he's your fantasy realized. I know he's everything you've ever dreamed of. I wanted to tell you it was all an illusion, this fantasy of yours, because you know that it is right? But I knew I wouldn't. I would never want to be responsible for spoiling one of those dreams you had to give up from childhood. I want my Anne to dream and to believe her dreams can come true. But then, you're not my Anne are you? Are you Roy's Anne now? Can he really appreciate the woman you are? I know what you're thinking right now… you're nobody's Anne, are you? You know how I know that? Because I know the independent spirit that lives in your heart. You wouldn't be Anne Shirley without it. She's as much a part of you as your beautiful red hair. Roy Gardner will never understand that about you, not in a million years.

But now I am rambling…. I guess none of this answers my original musing does it? When did I fall for you? Well, it was minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day. Each encounter with you carved a new feeling in my heart. I was dead gone on you before I even knew what it really meant to be in love. Thirteen-year-old Gilbert loved you in the only way he knew how. But today, looking back on everything, the seed was planted that day that grew into what I feel for you now. I guess I can't boil it down to one moment… It was the slate as much as it was the whole Avery rivalry. It was the day at the pond as much as it was the day you forgave me. It was your stolen dance card as much as it was the day I took you to the apple tree. It was you trusting me enough to share those terrible memories of your childhood as much as it was me trusting you about the Cooper. All those things have written the unfinished story of my love for you. Because each one of those moments taught me something new about you or showed me a part of you that I knew you didn't let many others see. Or perhaps those moments taught me something about myself. Those moments all showed me a new way to love you.

You're not the only one with dreams, Carrots. You are my dream… I dream of being able to hold your hand and kiss you, to one day marry you and make love to you, to have children together, to build a life together with you. I dream of all that. But mostly I just dream of the day I know you can return my love. Because no other dreams can come true if I don't have that one.

Can I ever have that, Anne? I wish I could be the kind of man who could be happy as long as I knew you were. I want to be that man. But, sadly, I am not. Maybe its because there's a small part of me that believes that even though you don't want to admit it, you might have feelings for me. Do you even realize how sometimes you shiver at my touch or blush under my gaze? I see it, I feel it, I know it because I've waited and hoped for it for years. I've waited to touch you and to have you feel the way I do when you are simply near me. You have no idea the effect your touch has on me, Carrots. Snowball fights will never be the same again. Now they will always be a reminder of the romance that can blossom out of friendship. Holding you as you shivered and blushed in my arms is now a treasured memory.

Do you remember when we talked about Miss Lavender and Mr. Irving? You thought it quite romantic that they should come together after so much time and misunderstanding. I remember I said I that I thought it would be better if they had come through life hand in hand, with no memories behind them but those that belonged to each other. That was the first time you blushed under my gaze. Did you know I was speaking of us? Something started between us that evening didn't it?

From the beginning, all my memories, all my work, all my future, all my love has belonged to you. And whether you can admit it or not, yours all belong to me. We belong to each other, Anne. It's the most sincere truth that I know. It's the truth I wish I could share with you…if only I thought you were ready to hear it…if only I had the courage to say it…if only you loved me the same way…

~Gilbert

Anne finished the letter in utter disbelief at Gilbert's words. That she was never meant to read it was clear enough. His jumbled, disconnected, almost rambling thoughts were all the evidence she needed of that. This letter was not meant to woo her-this letter was meant to purge her. Is that not what he said he had meant these letters for?

But then why give it to her?

And then it hit her. He could have written her another letter, filled with flowery declarations of undying devotion that pleased her vanity. He could have written her lines of poetry that she had once been sure were the pinnacles of romance. But instead he had invited her into his private thoughts, into his heart to see the unvarnished truth. This letter was never meant to flatter her, it was meant to show her the depth of his feelings. It was meant to show the blinding truth that she could not ignore. It was meant to show her the love that had consumed him for a decade. A love he was hopeless to remove from his heart. A love that they both at one time or another had taken for granted.

She couldn't look at it another second.

And then in the next instant, she would quickly reread various passages, trying to make sense of it all. Finally, she put the letter down in the bed, as though laying it there would remove it from her mind.

Anne could barely begin to unpack all the feelings that now tugged at her from every direction. It was a countless assault of emotions that ranged from anger to joy and love to hate and they all coursed through her violently and relentlessly, throwing her into further emotional unrest.

With nothing else to do, no one to talk to, no imaginative thoughts to transport her elsewhere, and no possible way to discern anything she was feeling in that moment, Anne Shirley laid down upon the bed in her pretty white room, pulled Gilbert's letter to her chest, and cried.