It'd been four months since they'd last spoken. In the first month apart, Amy had thrown herself into school, deciding whether art was something she wanted to pursue. Sometimes she stayed up on the roof long enough that Gabby had to come up and drag her to bed. Too many thoughts would swirl around her mind, about Laurie, about Fred, about what he had confessed to her. She never drew a single thing.
She had cried, the night he had told her. For months, Amy had thought she was mending Laurie's broken heart, but it had never occurred to her that he could fall for her. The second Laurie's confused look and frayed voice had reached her, her bones had felt weary and heavy with his confession.
Except she wasn't so sure he loved her, it seemed too perfect, and anything that perfect was just a facade. Concord Academy and the socialites she'd met proved that. Amy was sure that living in Paris, away from the reality of life, of their families made him see her as something else, the idea of someone he could be in love with. He told her that's what he saw with Jo, and what's to say he didn't think the same of her?
At night, looking over the city and the stars, she'd let herself hope for just a moment, that Laurie was sitting beside her. The ghost of his fingertips on his wrists, the way he would peer over her shoulder to look at her sketches till his lips were only a breath away from her neck. Amy hadn't realized how intoxicating he was till she was deprived of him.
She felt like a fool who was blindsided by her own versions of him. She had met Laurie at twelve and fallen in love. She had known Laurie at thirteen and he became her friend. She had trusted Laurie at fourteen and he understood her. She had missed him at fifteen and she hoped he missed her too. Then he was gone, and then he wasn't. So, at twenty, Amy healed Laurie and he had left her with fragmented pieces of her own identity.
In the second month, Amy had decided enough was enough. She had lasted a long time loving Laurie when he didn't love her back. She was no longer a twelve year old little girl, she'd grown up in the time Laurie had disappeared from her life and now that he'd disappeared once again, she didn't need him to validate her.
Of course, as she had resumed her life, things were still exceedingly complicated with the fact that their friends were still pretty immersed with each other. Dominique and Elijah were officially dating, which Dominique didn't always like to hear out loud, but Elijah would kiss her cheek and present her with a flower, so she didn't really mind at all. He was also the only one allowed to call her Mimi, to fit her bitter personality.
William and Christian had made it their personal mission to coax out a wild side from Charlotte, but in the end she'd be the one getting them out of incriminating situations. Then there was Gabby, who would never admit it, but kind of liked having the boys in her life for a different kind of pace.
It wasn't hard to miss the tight smiles and curious glances she'd received from her friends every time Amy was asked to go out or to go to dinner. She never accepted a single time. Once, on Elijah's birthday, Amy was asked to go celebrate with them, but she had politely declined and feigned a weak excuse. It wasn't until Xander had waited for everyone to file out of the room and told her Laurie wasn't coming either, did Amy realize she'd isolated herself so far from her friends. The second thought that had occurred to her right after was that Laurie was doing the same.
In the third month, Amy's life had eventually evened out, the only problem was that it was just so mundane. She woke up, went to class, and saw her friends. It wasn't a bad thing per say, she was just growing very bored of it all.
At night, that's when Amy's thoughts would drift back to the days when life with Laurie never bored her, whether they were simply sitting on the balcony or people watching at the cafe across from her apartment. When she would wake up in the morning, Amy would feel two things so vividly, remorse and curiosity.
Another thing that tended to occupy her mind was the continuous arguments her and Laurie had gotten into. She would run the words over and over again in her mind, but they all seemed to blur together.
On a crisp warm day in France, Amy sat on a stool, staring at her blank canvas. She'd barely sketched or painted something real, nothing that was anything more than an assignment.
The roof doors flung open with a loud creak and Amy turned around to see Xander poking his head out.
"Hello, love." He smiled widely and planted three kisses on her cheeks before unceremoniously falling onto the sofa nearby the girls had put up there long before all of Amy's art supplies took residence.
"Hello." Amy answered, looking at her blank canvas once again. "What're you doing here?"
"I just thought I'd grace you with my presence today." Xander responded, laying back so the sun would shine over his ethereal features.
"Are the others downstairs?" Amy asked, shooting a look behind her.
"No." Xander answered softly. "No one is in fact. They've all gone out for the day."
"But not you?" Amy asked, mocking an appalled expression. One of Xander's favorite things was to get lost in the city.
"Come, love, come sit down." Xander demanded, pulling her down onto the sofa with him so she was draped across him and he had buried his fingers in her hair. Amy laughed at the abrupt movement and sighed when his fingers massaged her scalp. "What has you so troubled?"
"You're not a therapist." Amy said, basking in the sunlight flood through the glass panels.
"Of course not." He said offendedly. "I'm gloriously blessed with beauty and wealth."
"Which hardly makes you qualified to psychoanalyze me." Amy pursed her lips.
"Well, my dear, maybe I want to pursue psychology, indulge me." He demanded lightly, tapping her forehead.
"What are you really after?" Amy asked, waving away his hand.
"I'm appalled you think I have another vendetta." He said, turning his head away from her, but the longer Amy glared at him, the sooner he cracked. "I give, what happened with you and Laurie?"
"Should've known." Amy sighed, relaxing back down. "Did he send you?"
"Of course not." Xander answered, and the conviction in his tone almost made Amy ashamed she'd even questioned his intentions. "But you guys haven't spoken in three months and Laurie hasn't told me what happened."
"Then that's his right." Amy said, walking back to her stool and sitting in front of her blank canvas.
"I won't push for an answer." Xander assured her. "But he's not himself, Amy."
"He's been like this before." Amy retorted, thinking back to how he'd fallen into drinking and gambling after Jo. How fitting to fall back into old patterns.
"No, he hasn't." Xander said in a hard tone. It was almost enough to shock Amy, because Xander never spoke so intently about anything. "He doesn't leave his room, Amy. All he does is sit on his balcony and stare."
Amy grabbed a pencil and placed it on canvas, starting out with a few simple lines and basic structures. "I don't know what you want from me."
"It's not my place to interfere and that isn't what I came here to do." Xander said, letting the harshness leak out of his voice. "I just came to see if you were alright."
"Because he's not?" Amy asked, adding more and more lines that were starting to resemble buildings and wrought iron bars.
"I didn't mean anything by it." Xander defended himself. He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. "I know you love him."
Amy's hand started moving faster, drawing out more and more details. "Okay." She wasn't about to deny the statement. She did love Laurie, there was no doubt about that, and she wouldn't deny it when it wasn't the problem. "I know he's your best friend, but you're my friend too. So please don't plead his case, I don't want to hear it."
"That was never my intention." Xander murmured softly. "I just, I've never seen either of you like this."
"Like what?" Amy questioned, softening at the sadness in his tone.
"Like you don't know who you are." Xander responded. The words felt like they were etching themselves into her skin.
Xander stayed with her after that, but he didn't say anything else. Neither did she for that matter. It was quite unusual of him, he was always talking, he'd even admitted to talking once just so he could make sounds. Nonetheless, Amy appreciated the companionship and oddly enough the sound of his breathing calmed her.
It was late into the evening when Xander pushed himself off the couch and promised to take her out on a date later in the week. Amy laughed and nodded along, promising to wear her prettiest dress. Once again, he'd kissed her cheeks, only in goodbye this time and disappeared out the door.
Amy sighed to herself and finally took a moment to look at her canvas again. With no Xander to distract her and the thoughts recently plaguing her starting to return, she stared blankly at her artwork. The first real thing she'd done in a long time.
It was the view of Paris from Laurie's balcony.
"Hello, Fred." Amy said softly as he pulled out the chair for her to sit down. He'd leaned down to kiss her cheek, but Amy almost shied away from it.
"Hi, Amy." He greeted softly, settling down across from her. They were at some fancy restaurant that Amy was sure he had taken her to once before. She almost felt guilty about what she was going to do, yet realizing nothing in her relationship with Fred was significant enough to imbed itself into her mind only solidified her decision.
They quickly ordered and Amy garnered her time, eating slowly and nodding along to his tales about what working for his family was like. The other parts of Europe she hadn't seen, even asking about his sister and brother, Kate and Frank.
"Is everything alright?" Fred asked her suddenly, shooting her a weary look. "You seem distracted."
"Everything's fine." Amy responded. A sudden pang of guilt hit her when she realized she'd actually meant the words. "I, well, I've been wanting to talk to you about something for a while now. About us."
"About us?" Fred repeated, urging her to go on. "So there is something wrong?"
"There's really nothing wrong." Amy sighed, swirling her finger around the edge of her tea cup. "I just, Fred, where do you think our relationship is going?"
"I don't understand." Fred said, his tone turning slightly defensive.
"I meant what I said." Amy responded, imagining how she'd landed herself in this position. "In a year from now, or a few months even, where do you think we'll be, Fred?"
He looked taken aback for a moment and set his fork down. "Is this about Laurie?"
Amy's head snapped up abruptly. "What?"
"Laurie?" Fred asked again. He didn't sound angry or even shocked, just curious.
"This is not about Laurie." Amy sighed, shaking her head. Which was true, this was not about Laurie, nor was it supposed to be. After the countless passive aggressive arguments and the not so passive aggressive arguments, she'd known exactly what Laurie had been telling her. It was just that she'd finally made a real decision about Fred.
At first, she'd been charmed by Fred and her aunt had highly encouraged her towards him. He was everything she wanted and needed, at least everything she thought she needed. Except, her mind began to wonder about her future, and the scary part was that she knew exactly what it would look like if she'd really married Fred. Her art would become a hobby, she'd become a socialite playing at amatuer business politics, and her family would be secure. Security was one thing, but eventually, the thought of her life becoming so empty was against everything she'd grown up knowing. Despite the responsibility, Amy was a March, and as March she was never meant to reduce her life to be an ornament.
Then there was the Laurie of it all. While she mended his broken heart, he'd simultaneously opened up hers. Their relationship would never be simple or just that he'd fallen in love with her and she loved him too, but that it wasn't enough. Those were just facts on the surface. Laurie had been one of her greatest art obsessions, the easy lines of his features and pristine elegance. It was how Amy learned that beauty was subjective and somewhere along the way she'd lost that. It wasn't until Laurie had collided into her life once again, that she'd started to see the allure life provided with all its idealism and imperfection.
Despite Laurie being the catalyst, it was always inevitably going to be Amy who had to make the change in her life.
"I'd hope we'd still be together." Fred finally answered, looking blankly out the window. "But I suppose you don't?"
"I'm sorry." Amy said softly, picking at her fingers. A nasty habit she acquired when she was nervous or anxious. "We're barely together now. I'm still in school, you're constantly traveling the world for work."
"I understand." Fred murmured, smiling softly at her. "I just always assumed that with my life and yours, we would end up together. Your aunt seemed to think so at least."
"But," Amy began, "Fred, maybe we could be happy, eventually fall in love, but it would be all for the wrong reasons. Staying together for my family's future and, I may be presumptuous when I say this, but your need for a trophy wife to play hostess is not reason enough."
Fred didn't look shocked or offended by her words. They'd always had this understanding and agreement when it came to the real nature behind their relationship, or what was really a beneficial deal.
"I always figured this might happen." Fred said, sipping on his own coffee. "And I really do understand, Amy, it's alright."
"Maybe in another life." Amy offered weakly in a sweet tone. He smiled at her and Amy returned it with a relieved sag in her shoulders.
"I never stood a chance, did I?" Fred asked, thumping his fingers against the table. "Against Laurie, I mean. I see the way he looks at you and the way talk about him."
"This isn't about him." Amy started, but Fred waved her off lightly.
"It's alright." Fred told her. "It may not be now, but I can tell you care for him. Since even before that day at the beach all those years ago."
"Laurie and I aren't like that. Growing up with him does make us close, but I would never break up with you because of him. I did this for me, for us. It wouldn't be fair and it wouldn't be a life." Amy said softly.
"I understand." Fred nodded lightly. He understood her, there was a reason they'd stayed together so long afterall. Fred understood that part of her, the obligation that weighed heavy on her shoulders, simply because he had the same weight on his.
"I really am sorry, Fred." Amy mumbled out. "There's a lot of people out there who you deserve, people better suited for you than me."
"But there's only one Amy March." He reminded her, kissing her knuckles lightly. "It was a pleasure to have known and been a part of your life, Amy."
Amy had always known she'd see Laurie again. Him completely disappearing from her life was never a real concern. Maybe he wouldn't always be present, but he'd always be there. Secretly she would run over scenarios in her mind of accidentally running into him, what she would say, what he would say. She felt like he would apologize, but Amy wasn't sure whether that would be better or worse. Nonetheless, it shocked her to the bone when she arrived in Concord and Laurie was the only one there.
Amy had some time off from school after finishing a few of her finals and she didn't have another for a few weeks. She had saved up just enough money by not going home during Christmas, and she thought it'd be the perfect time to visit Concord. So she had packed her bags, hugged her friends, (especially Xander who had insisted on driving her to the airport and picked up her off the floor in a tight hug), and got on the plane. She had debated calling Meg or Beth before coming, but earlier in the month, Meg had told her Marmee was coming home around the same time and Amy decided a surprise seemed more fitting. She was really regretting it now.
Upon sitting on the incredibly long flight, paying for a stupid expensive car ride back to her home, and struggling to get the door open. There wasn't anyone there to greet her. Amy had dropped all her luggage in the doorway and knew Hannah would have a fit about it later, but it was the least of her concern when she called out and no one answered. The next thing Amy decided to do was go down the road to Meg's, who also wasn't home.
Amy settled into the living room back at her childhood house, calling all her family members, not a single answer. Logically speaking, they could all be working, busy with kids, hospital visits, it wasn't all that surprising that the March's were hard to get a hold of, so Amy wasn't too worried, but it did strike her as odd. As her last option, Amy walked across the street to the Laurances and rang the bell. She was hoping Mr. Laurence would be home and not traveling for work and could tell her where exactly her entire family had disappeared too.
Amy tapped her feet against the concrete and twirled the baby blue ribbon in her hair around her finger, only pausing in her movements when the door swung open and Laurie was standing on the other side.
The first thing Amy did was study him. His hair was slightly disheveled, like he'd been running his hands through it. His face seemed just the same, but Amy could note the heaviness behind his eyes. Yet, dressed in a loose button up and dress pants, Amy believed he was unfairly blessed with beauty.
"Amy." He whispered, it sounded breathless and tired. "Amy?" This time the word came out in surprise, like he'd only finally realized she was real and not a phantom of his imagination.
"I'm, uh…" Amy trailed off, taking a few steps back. It was surreal looking at him again, back in Concord at least. Some part of her was definitely shocked, but another part of her was so familiar and expectant that seeing him standing in the doorway of his grandfather's estate didn't faze her like it should. "I'm looking for your grandfather."
The words felt empty coming from her lips, because honestly, she wasn't sure where her and Laurie stood anymore. She wasn't angry with him, she just felt like he exploited her. For her art, for her company, for her heart. He took too much and although he'd confessed exactly what she'd wanted to hear all her life, it wasn't enough to erase the fact that he needed to know what it was like to lose her first.
Laurie's eyes were tracing her face, like she often traced his with a pencil, but this somehow seemed more personal, so Amy turned her head to the side. "He's not here." Laurie murmured out, rubbing the back of his neck. He moved forward like he wanted to hold her hands, or caress her cheek, or toy with the ends of her hair. But Amy's sharp inhale made him back away. "I didn't know you'd be in Concord?"
Amy pursed her lips in a tight manner and turned to face him, eye to eye. He didn't deserve an answer. "Do you know when he'll be back?"
"I'm not sure." Laurie drew out, his voice thick with remorse. The syllables coming out just a little slower so he could talk to her a little longer. "He took your family on a trip to New York to see Jo."
Amy's head snapped up and she sighed in exasperation. "Goodbye, Laurie."
"Amy, wait-" Laurie called, holding onto her wrist, much like he had at the charity back in Paris.
Amy didn't yank her hand back this time, she simply turned around calmly and he flinched back. "What do you want from me, Laurie?"
The words were strained and the insinuation was not lost on him. "I just," he sighed out, running a hand through his hair, "is it a crime to miss you?"
Amy wrapped her arms around herself and back away once again. "You can't miss what you never had."
The next few days were spent in silence. Laurie stayed in his grandfather's estate, Amy stayed in the house, neither venturing far enough to really interact with each other. Amy almost considered booking a flight back to France early, but she'd finally gotten a hold of Marmee, and she promised Amy they'd be home just in time to spend at least the weekend with her before she flew back to Europe.
Thursday night came faster than Amy expected and as she settled down in the living room for the night, the door swung open and chatter immediately filled the house. Lots of luggage was being pushed into the entrance way, followed by Meg and her twins. Then Beth who had her arm hooked into Hannah's, and then Marmee with John helping her bring in suitcases.
"Amy!" Her mother exclaimed as soon as she caught sight of her younger daughter. She dropped whatever she'd been holding and crushed Amy into a tight hug while Amy kissed her cheek.
"Hi, Marmee." Amy murmured into her mother's neck, relishing in the joy of seeing her mother after such a long time away.
"Amy!" This time it was her sisters and they both engulfed her in a hug, which Amy returned happily.
"Meg, Beth." Amy greeted, stepping back to observe them. They were both still as beautiful as ever, with Beth's rosy cheeks and Meg's motherly nature.
"My girls." Marmee whispered, looking at all three of them dreamily. "Come, we should eat something, or I can bake something to celebrate!"
Despite it being nearly ten, Marmee managed to bake them muffins and little pieces of fudge. Tea was passed around as well as they all scattered across the living room to catch up. John had taken Daisy and Demi upstairs to sleep for the night and Hannah had gone to bed as well, claiming she needed the rest.
"How was New York?" Amy asked, her head laying in Beth's lap. "How's Jo?"
"She's Jo." Meg laughed, and that was all Amy needed to hear. "New York was beautiful though."
"Tell us about Europe, Amy." Her mother insisted. "You don't call home enough."
Amy winced a little at the guilt and nodded apologetically. "It's the kind of place you dream about." Amy murmured. "It's always lit up in the most beautiful ways, there's interesting people with interesting stories, and I'll never tire of the view."
"And Laurie?" Beth asked quietly, but that was just Beth. "We heard that you were both in Paris, did you see him?"
Amy tensed up at the questions. She hadn't told her family about seeing Laurie, an unspoken agreement between them both. She didn't tell them she stayed during Christmas just for him. She didn't say anything, because she knew exactly what would happen. Amy knew that it would somehow make its way back to Jo, and no one was ready for that.
"I saw him." Amy nodded, she didn't offer much more. Yet curiosity did get the best of her. "I didn't know he came back to Concord though?" She wasn't even sure why she asked in the first place.
"Oh that boy." Marmee murmured softly, like he was just another one of her children, he basically was. "He came home at the end of last month, and started working for his grandfather. Mr. Laurence said it was the strangest thing, that Laurie just showed up one day on the doorstep and decided to start working."
Amy sat up and looked blankly at the fireplace, words echoing in her mind about the last time her and Laurie had a conversation by the fire. "He's working for his grandfather now?"
"Honestly," Meg said softly, eating her muffin, "I think it's because of Jo. I think he's throwing himself into work to finally get over her."
Amy simply got up and walked away.
Amy walked downstairs the next day and for a moment it was like she was a twelve year old little girl again. With her mother's and Hannah's cooking permeating the air, the chatter of her sisters, and just the overall ambiance of her home was overwhelmingly nostalgic.
"Good morning, Marmee." Amy murmured as she walked into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around her mother.
"Hi, sweetheart." Her mother said and kissed her youngest daughter's cheek. "Did you sleep well?"
"Better than I have in a long time." Amy said, hopping onto a stool and picking at the leftover baked goods.
"Amy March, make yourself useful and set the table for breakfast, please?" Her mother said pointedly. Amy smiled sweetly and gathered plates and utensils to take out to the dining room. It didn't take her long to set out all the place settings before she wandered into the living room to see her sisters.
Beth was sitting at the piano, her fingers moving away creating a beautiful melodic tune. Meg and John were nowhere in sight, but Amy could hear the tinkling laughter of their two year old twins in the drawing room they never really used. Amy was not prepared for the sight in front of her when she walked into the room.
Meg and John still weren't there, but Laurie was. He was splayed out on a blanket with one of his arms supporting his head so he could lay on his side. Daisy was laying on her side as well, happily poking away at Laurie's cheeks and tugging on his curls. Demi was sitting next to his sister and playing with his toys, blissfully unaware.
"Oh, thank you, Daisy." Laurie laughed as Daisy nearly poked him in the eye. He simply leaned away from her and poked her back lightly. She giggled and rolled onto the floor.
"What're you doing here?" Amy asked, leaning against the doorframe. Her tone was a little sharp, but not harsh enough to draw away the attention of the twins.
Laurie's head barely glanced at her before turning back to Daisy. "Your mother invited my grandfather and I over for breakfast. He knew I didn't have work to do today and I figured it would strike the others as odd if I didn't come." Laurie explained, smiling down at the babies. "Seeing as how neither of us told our families anything."
"Tell them what you want, nothing exactly incriminating happened." Amy murmured, wondering where exactly they stood now. In four months, Amy had gone through anger, grief, remorse, anger again, and now she just didn't feel anything. She glanced down at him like it would give her an answer, but instead her heart clenched at the sight of him playing with Daisy so delicately. She turned away to stare out the window. "Where is your grandfather then?"
"He asked John for a consultation due to his extensive knowledge in everything, he was my tutor after all, and Meg tagged along." Laurie answered her, slightly sarcastic, slightly distracted. He looked up at her, staring her eye to eye. "Do you want me to leave?"
Amy pursed her lips and her breath hitched. "Do what you want, Laurie, you always have."
Laurie's face turned stoic. "What a very complicated statement."
"I don't owe you anything." Amy murmured, unsure of what to say.
"I never said you did." Laurie retorted back. "It's been four months, Amy, and as much as you'd like to deny that something happened, I will not."
"Don't do that." Amy hissed, wondering how she landed herself in this position.
"What would you have me do, Raphaella?" Laurie demanded softly. The nickname rolled off his tongue in an unconscious way and Amy flinched. "I've done what you asked. I came home, got my life together and started working for my grandfather."
"Laurie," Amy exasperated quietly, reaching down to run her hands through Demi's hair as he'd gotten bored of his toys and clung to her legs, "I never wanted you to do it for me."
"I didn't do it for you." Laurie whispered, standing up and tentatively reaching out to caress her cheek. Amy stepped back and Laurie let his hand drop, but he didn't move away. "You brought me back, Amy, I did it because of you."
"Hello, Aunt March." Amy said, walking into the drawing room and sitting before her aunt. It was only Thursday night and Amy didn't leave till Sunday night, she thought it'd be nice to see her aunt while she was still in Concord.
"Hello, dear." Her aunt greeted her, smiling at Amy's form. "I didn't know you were coming home."
"It was an impromptu trip." Amy explained, thanking the maid as she poured Amy a cup of tea. "I had a break between finals and I thought a week home would be nice."
"How is school going?" Aunt March asked, sipping delicately on her tea.
"Well I suppose, Aunt March." Amy said, the words sounding more proper and enunciated, a habit she'd picked up when talking to her aunt and the people her aunt tended to associate with. "I've been trying to focus on my art, but the more I work it seems like my talents will never be as accomplished as I'd like."
"Oh, my dear," Aunt March sighed, waving off Amy's concerns, "does that mean you intended to pursue something else?"
"I haven't decided." Amy said softly, trying to decipher what her aunt was thinking. She'd been both the most and least supportive person when it came to Amy's dreams of becoming an artist. While she did want Amy to succeed in life, going as far as to pay for her schooling, she also knew the weight of the March family would depend on one of the girls. With Meg already married and out of the house, Beth too ill, and Jo chasing her own dreams, it was Amy's responsibility to ensure her family didn't suffer the consequences.
"And Fred?" Her aunt questioned, her eyes wandering away from Amy's form.
"Fred and I…" Amy trailed off, wincing as her Aunt narrowed her eyes at Amy's improper speech. "We are no longer together."
Her aunt looked stoic and pursed her lips. "I see."
Amy looked down at her hands like she'd just been scolded like a child. "I just didn't think it was a proper relationship. With my schooling and him traveling."
"And you understand what this means, yes?" Her aunt asked, primly smoothing our skirt.
"I do, Aunt March." Amy whispered, it sounded petulant coming from her lips, but it hurt all the same. "I do."