Hey everyone! This is it! I have been so busy the last few days that I totally forgot abt the story, and I told myself that TODAY I needed to finish it otherwise chances were...

Well, I sat down and I wrote it in a hour so I apologize before hand bc it is likely that this piece is far from one of my best.
I am, however, happy with the way the story ended and relieved that it wont be a burden on my conscious anymore.

In other news, I think this maybe the last piece i will write on FF. It seems that this chapter has come to a close, and while I am so incredibly grateful to the support and encouragement, i think it is time to move on to bigger things (me maybe freaking outtt)

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart! What a journey it has been! I am leaving this story incomplete bc I don't trust myself enough to say that I'm done, and honestly I may come across this story and be like hmm, maybe i should add...
But for now, Good morning, good evening, and good night!

With love
-A.G

It took three days for Gilbert to wake from his illness, three days for the stained blush on his cheeks to fade and for the fire in his temple to burn out.

Few words were exchanged during that time, and he wondered if his heart was healing the rest of his body, eager as it finally found his partner, eager for its journey to come to a rest.

They didn't speak much. But she was there, beside him. Holding a cloth to his forehead, tending the cuts in his foot from the broken glass, sweeping the floors, baking biscuits and breads.

Each morning he woke his face already turned to the couch on which she slept so ensure that she was here. That she was real, that she had really come back to him.
He fell asleep with her fingers against his temple, and touching the pulse on his neck, and although his stomach was burning and his lungs were furling, he felt as if they were the best days of his life, some of his most contented nights.

He had questions, lots and lots of questions, enough to fill a thousand letters, and hundreds of scrolls, but as his body healed, he let his heart do so as well, until he prepared himself to possibly rip open the stitches newly placed.

It wasn't like he had any trouble finding distraction. He would sit and watch for hours, the way she wiped her floury palms on the apron she had sewn from a spare bedsheet, the way she stood silent looking at the window, nearly frozen as the sun gleamed over the cobble streets.
The way she hummed as she washed her face, the way she blushed as she caught his eye, the way she glowed brighter than any iridescent and larger than the greatest star he had ever seen.

Anne was real, and she loved him.
Anne was real and she read him Hemingway, as he fell asleep.
Anne was real, and made him breakfast and tea just the way he liked, sitting beside him holding the new teacup to his parched lips.
Anne was real. And she was here. In Paris, miles and miles from Avonlea, from everyone and everything she had known because she wanted him. Because she chose him.

Gil hadn't known joy like this. And no matter what was yet to come, he swore he would keep it inside his heart, never forgetting the feeling these days evoked.

…

By the time Gil's fever broke it was Wednesday morning.
His apartment was cleansed from bottom to top, with several new dishes Miss Parious, she quickly learned was the woman who had led her up to Gil's apartment, had kindly supplied her.
"Oh dear, it's not a problem at all! Anything for Gilbert and his lovely wife! Now you must tell me, how is that poor young man..."
She was a kind sweetheart of a lady and quickly introduced her to others, others who too were shocked to learn of Gilbert's secret wife
"Now where has he been hiding you?" They would chuckle, as Anne was introduced.
It was awkward to say the least, but she hadn't the time to mention it to Gilbert, so she said nothing and smiled along. There were many pressing conversations to be had, and her new supposed identity was not a priority.

"Anne."
She turned from the dough she was kneaded and almost didn't register as the bread thumped from her hands.
Gil stood behind her, exiting the bathroom. She hadn't seen him heathy and alive, so she stood there, gaping unbashfully.
He was a man now. Tall and slender, his arms golden and his neck golden. The ridges of his face were sharper, more defined. The line of his jaw and his cheekbones etched artfully, the bridge of his nose slender as he looked down at her.
He smirked as he watched her take him in, his eyes hazel and whiskey and caramel.
He was beautiful. And a paradox, all sharp edges and then the softness of his lips, the languid arches of his eyes, the subtle curls that hung over his forehead, kissing the nape of his neck-

"You all right there, Anne?" He spoke with humor, and she flushed
"Yes, no I'm great. Nothing is up, what's up? You all right over there too?"

Gil grinned, "Get dressed, I'm taking you out for a real dinner. Not you feeding me and having to tuck me in... Although," H
e took a step in her direction and Anne gulped. Loudly.
"Maybe later we can do that again, aye? I don't remember everything, but those particular moments were... quite fun, weren't they?"

She smiled, eyes twinkling mischievously, two can plan this game,
"I cannot quite recall what you are referring to... maybe you'll show me this time?"

His grin widened, and he nodded to the bathroom door,
"Better get dressed Anne. I might take up on that offer sooner than you were insinuating."

She giggled like a schoolgirl, as she draped her green dress over her shoulder, closing the bathroom door behind her. "Don't leave without me Gil!"
There was no answer, and she paused leaning her head against the door,
"Gilbert?"
A snicker like a low vibration, one he probably hadn't thought she heard, "I know you're here Gil!"
This time it was silent.

...

He chose a little French café across from St. Joseph's. Earlier that morning he had spoken to the Doctor and without a moment's hesitation he was told to take the next two weeks off
"This is not a suggestion, Gilbert. This is a commandment. I need you to heal completely, not only for yourself but for the patients here who are... we can't take any risks and we most definitely cannot have doctors who are not healthy. Heal. Do not come back until then, and if you need more time, I will give that to you. It that clear?"

Now, he sat across from Anne, fingers itching to brush away the one stubborn curl that hovered over the side of her face. He was sure she would let him, and that gave him a sort of thrill that was so overwhelming in it's glee that he almost laughed out loud.

But they needed to talk. To get it out, so they could begin on a fresh page.

"Anne Shirley,"
Her eyes flicked up to his, and a smirk twisted on her lips, as she folded her arms before her,
"Gilbert Blythe."
He leaned forward, and delighted in the glimmer in her eyes as he did so, rejoiced in the blush that crept up her neck.

"So..." He would play it like a game, the way they were familiar. A question for a question, a mystery begging to be acted out. Like the way they had when they were children.
"What are you doing here? In Paris? So far from Avonlea!"

She leaned back, and looked up at the evening sky,
"I was chasing something, I think. Or someone."

He nodded seriously "Davy, I presume."

She turned back at him, mirth dancing in her eyes
"No... not Davy... I can't... hmmm. I can't seem to remember..."

"Hmm..." He echoed "Hmmm..."
They hummed their way through a glass of wine,

"What about you Gilbert? How did you get so far from home?"
Her question, innocent in its tone, but it sparked a match in his throat.
He coughed to clear it, and studied his fingers.
"My home got engaged. Hardly a home if it isn't really yours."

The humor fell from her lips and she looked at him.
Truly looked at him, past the brigades and the walls, passed the broken mirrors, and the torn passages of dreams unfulfilled.
"I never got engaged Gil."

His eyes shot up. "But I saw you. I saw you walk out with him... I saw- I mean we all knew- I"
"He proposed to me. But I never got engaged. I am, well, I'm kind of shocked that you never knew..."
"I never asked anyone. I just assumed..."

There were so many emotions twisting in his gut, he felt nearly dizzy,
"Why?" words hardly audible, but they were loud enough, "Why did you refuse?"
He was scared of her answer, scared of the truth she would reveal, truth he had always promised himself he would rather not know, than be disappointed. But he needed it now, craved it.
"Why did you say no?"

Anne stared at him, her gaze unfaltering and it felt like years before she answered.
"He wasn't you."

Maybe the world ended at that moment, maybe rain was pouring down on his face and neck, maybe he was struck by the lightening, purple as it reflected on his face.
He couldn't feel a thing.
He couldn't see a thing.
Just Anne and the coils of her red hair, the glass of her green eyes, the freckles that adorned her nose, and the little ways she smiled, she laughed, she cried.

Her voice, soft as silk, and she poured her heart out before him
"Gil, I have loved you for... for longer than I can remember. I was delusional, I was crazed romantic who spent so many years searching for everything I never needed. I had you, all along I had you and yet I let my mind rule my heart, and I just- I kept pushing you away! When Roy proposed it was as if my entire world snapped into focus- there is no one for me if it isn't you. No one. And I knew then, I knew, I was a fool! I pushed you and I pushed you and I destroyed what we had."

She inhaled

"After... that incident, I ran back in. I looked everywhere for you! I hated what I did to Roy, hated myself for it, but the love that I had finally owned up to was overflowing in my mind and my heart, and I needed you."
The first tear, a beckoning of a storm, paved its way down her cheek quietly
"But you were gone. I ran you out. I- I broke you-"
"Anne, no-"
"I spent months doing nothing. I went home to Avonlea, and I sat there for months... I had never in my life felt so- desolate. Like nothing mattered. And it hurt so bad, but you know what was worse? To know that I did that to you!"

Her voice cracked, and she shoved the words out of throat.

"How many years I spent... hurting you. Every time I would start to feel bad for myself, to feel sorry that I wasn't loved by who I wanted to be loved by, I remembered. This callous voice in my head laughed out loud, and would say You feel bad for yourself? You did this to him for years! For years! You have no right- you have no right to act like this, to be pitied. I treated you- Gil- I treated you horribly. Horribly. I love you, so much I love you more than I have ever imagined I was capable of. And if you could give that back to me, if you could love me even half as much as I do to you, I would- I would never need a single thing for the rest of my life. And if you can't... if you don't- "

The words stuck to her tongue
"Then all I'm asking is for forgiveness. I'm so, so, sorry for the way I treated you."

He didn't know what to say, and he stared at her.
Words he dreamt of her saying, she had said,
Looks he had dreamt she would make, she made,
She loved him. After all this time, she loved him.

"There has never and will never be a someone I could ever love the way I love you Anne Shirley."

And they embraced, right there, under the yawning of the little Café, the birds singing as they clapped for them, the wind dancing around them and the leaves rejoiced together.
There was a life they could have had.
And now, they would.

THE END.

prob of L.a Mont.