It happens at the end of a long day, my hands busy locking up the surgery door when I look in the reflection of the window and see Anne standing across the street, her gaze focused on my back. When I turn around to see her she doesn't move, doesn't flee or disappear like every other time I thought I'd seen her. Instead she stands frozen in place, her grey eyes wide and stricken as I look towards her.
Though there's a street between us I can practically feel her slam into my chest, my breath catching as she lifts a gloved hand in greeting. Her hair is black - jet black - but almost everything else is the same. Her freckles are bright, her eyes shadowed but still beckoning me in. She's thinner than I ever remember seeing her but I blame that on the time that's passed and the change that's grown between us. Her black sleeves reach to her wrists and despite the warmer weather she still wears heavy skirts that seem to swallow her whole.
But she's still Anne. Somehow, she's still the girl I once knew.
I don't know how to proceed when she crosses the swatch of road, my thoughts spinning as she gets closer. I stand frozen as she moves before me, her lips tight as she reaches out a hand towards mine.
"Cordelia Wright," she offers, waiting patiently for my hand to slip into hers. When it does it's like a fire is lit inside of me, my body sparking as I swallow thickly. Anne. No, Cordelia.
"Why?" Is all I can manage as her tight smile falters.
"May we go inside, Doctor Blythe? I realize you're just closing up but it took me ever so long to get up the courage to cross the street," she asks quietly. I stuff my hand in my pocket to retrieve my keys once more, my hands shaking as I turn and attempt to open the lock.
I fumble once, twice, before dropping the keys and swearing as I bend down and grasp at them, my hand wrapping instead around her knuckles. Jerking back like I've electrocuted myself, I watch as she opens the lock slowly and hands me back my keys.
Inside the building the silence spreads out between us, thick and heavy and unbroken by the sounds of the street outside. I move to sit on the edge of my desk, watching as she looks curiously around the small space. Her searching gaze eventually lands upon me once more and she closes her eyes, the tears coming silently as she turns away from me.
I let her have the moment despite my desperation to ease her pain, certain that my comfort was the last thing she wanted in this moment. There was too much time between us for that and I was certain that there was so much more to the story than I could even imagine.
"Doctor Blythe - I realize that - "
"You can call me by my name," I snap abruptly, harsher than I expected. Immediately I close my eyes, my hand coming to rub my brow. This wasn't possible. Why was she here? Why after so long? Wasn't she married and happy in Kingsport? What had happened?
"I realize that this must come as a shock and I'm sorry for not providing you a warning but I didn't know when I took this job that you were here otherwise I never would have - "
"Seen me again? Written me again? Anne," I scold, knowing fully that my words would be best kept inside in this moment but unable to contain them. I try to breathe through the chaos in my mind, my chest aching as I watch her recoil at her name.
"I apologize," she whispers, her arms clasping tightly across her chest. "I don't intend to stay past the school year. I'll be gone as soon as the year is out, I promise."
Her words break a piece of me that I'd thought was lost long ago and I groan, stepping towards her and reaching for her. When she scuttles back, her hip bumping into a cabinet she nearly bolts out of her own skin, wildly looking around her. Before I realize what's happening she's yanking open the door and barreling onto the street, taking off like a frightened rabbit and leaving me to stew in my thoughts.
I barely wait a few hours before I decide to press her arrival in the Glen, stalking up to her cottage as the sun dips lower in the sky. There's a quiet anger that stokes my thoughts and when I rap on the door it's a bit harder than I had wanted to, my movements getting away from the tight hold I typically had on myself.
"Doctor Blythe, Miss Wright is unwell this evening. Perhaps you could come back another - "
"Mrs Baker - I apologize but I simply cannot wait to see her. Please let her know that I'm here and that - "
"It's alright, Susan," Anne calls from where she's descending the staircase behind the woman, a large sweater wrapped tightly around her frame and her hair pulled back to reveal reddened eyes. She looks broken down, the black lines under her eyes deepened by the dimness of the evening.
"Would you like me to prepare some tea, Miss?" Susan questions, her eyes never leaving mine.
"That would be lovely. Doctor, please come inside." I step through the small space that Susan grants me, shoving my hands in my pockets as I stand on the threshold of the small cottage. I watch as Anne moves closer, her mouth set in a tight line as she looks at me.
Lifting my brow in silent question, I wait for her to start. Even though I was the one standing in her house I knew that launching into my barrage of questions would end with less answers than I had come for and that wouldn't do.
"Why don't we go to the living room?" She offers, drifting through the doorway without further prompting. She settles in a high back winged chair, perching on the edge as I sit down onto the deep couch.
"What shall I call you?" I whisper as we stare at one another, judging, evaluating.
"Susan knows me now as Anne," she replies quietly, her gaze falling briefly to the floor. When she looks back at me it's with a fierce steadiness that I've never seen from her. "It became a necessity to tell her what was troubling me after I made her distract you at church."
"I thought that was what was happening," I sigh, trying to settle in the cushions but growing anxious once more. I lean forward, my elbows resting on my knees as I watch her in the low light. "I feel like there's a story that I'm missing here and I would very much like to know what is happening, if you should feel so inclined to share it with me."
My words are formal, tight and controlled in a way that sound so unlike me. I know though that if I were to say what I was actually thinking I'd be thrown out of this house faster than a mouse in a pantry. So I choose to approach cautiously, swallowing back what bubbles up in my chest.
"I came here for the position at the school. Like I said, I didn't realize you were here," she offers lightly, shifting on the seat and looking at the fireplace.
"I'm not mad that you're here, Anne. I'm confused," I counter when she doesn't add anything.
"Well - I mean, I'm sorry that you're confused. I never intended to - "
"Anne," I sigh, rubbing my hands brusquely over my face. I couldn't deal with this formality right now. It had been years since I'd seen her. Years since anyone had even bothered to mention her to me and now she was here, in my town, with her beautiful hair gone and a paleness that spoke more than either of us would like to admit. "Where have you been? You disappeared after… After what happened in the orchard. I thought you were married in Kingsport to that Gardner fellow and you just show up here with a changed appearance and a new name. A name, I should admit, that gave you away - "
"I was married, Gil," she interrupts, my eyes snapping up to hers. I nearly launch myself to my feet, my heart in my throat as I look at her. She was married. She chose someone else. It wasn't just a rumour I'd heard, it was real. Here I'd been hoping for fate to bring us together and she'd already moved on.
Everything hurts, I realize as I look at her, the colour rising in her cheeks as fresh tears pool in her eyes. I long to comfort her like I once had but there was no place for that here, not anymore, and all I can do is clear my throat and blink away my own tears at her admission.
"Why didn't you come to Marilla's funeral?" The question escapes from me before I can stop it, my hurt lashing out and whipping against her as she gets once more to her feet.
"You were there?" She replies weakly, standing and looking out the window with her back to me. Instinctively I move to join her, lingering over her shoulder as she presses her hand to the glass. "Did Rachel lay the dried flowers I requested?"
"Yes. Why didn't you come?" I press, watching as the emotions cross her face. Hurt and anguish fill her features and for a moment I think she's about to collapse, her breathing so erratic that she has to gasp for air.
"I couldn't go. He said I couldn't go so I left," she whispers the last part, her shoulders shaking as the tears come thickly then. With her face pressed against the window I distract myself from her pain by watching the fog fill and disappear from the glass, wishing I was able to help her.
"Will you come sit down again?" I ask after another moment as she starts to regain some of her composure. I reach my hand out towards her and she turns to stare at it blankly, her arms instead wrapping tightly around her waist.
Susan brings in the tea as we both settle into the couch, a cushion between us but a distance that feels like miles. Though the tension in the room is thick, none of us mention it as we sip at the hot liquid in silence. When I lean back against the side of the couch and look at the girl before me, the one who'd been so fiery when we were growing up, I can't help but notice that the fire is now out and her eyes are no longer lit with the intensity that had once been there. Her eyes are dull, her skin gaunt. She's only an echo of the Anne I once knew, that much is clear.
"Will you tell me your story?" I ask after a while, leaning on my hand and watching as she looks towards me. Her expression is stricken for a moment and then she eases her shoulders and sets down her tea.
"I don't think tonight is the night for stories," she whispers tightly, casting her eyes down towards the floor. I bite my tongue, looking towards the fire and trying to tuck away the frustration I feel.
"If not tonight, then will you ever? Or do you wish me to leave you in peace?" It pains me to ask it but I know it must be done. We had to agree on a way to go forward in this sleepy place we'd both landed in.
"Gilbert," she breathes, her eyes sliding up towards mine and pulling my attention back to her. A collapse happens behind her eyes, her chest heaving as she watches me intently. When her face crumbles, when her eyes close and the tears escape down her cheeks, I reach my hand out and grab for hers.
"You're okay, Anne. Whatever it is, you're okay," I affirm, clutching her hand to my chest and trying to soothe away her pain. My words only seem to increase her pain and when a sob breaks from her chest I reach for her instinctively.
It's the wrong thing to do. The absolute worst thing I could do, I realize as she stumbles off of the couch, her hands clutching at her corset and her frame tripping towards the doorway. Susan comes into the room at the noise, her eyes wide as she wraps Anne in her arms and soothes her hands over her back.
Somehow I find myself on my feet, my tea staining my shirt as I watch things fall apart in an instant.
"Doctor Blythe, I think perhaps it's time you went," Susan states, looking over Anne's shoulder towards me.
"Anne - I'm sorry - "
"Now, Doctor," Susan snaps when I persist, my mouth hanging open. I nod absently and stride towards the front door, stepping into the cold night air and gasping for oxygen. Resting my hands on my knees I focus on my breaths before looking back towards the small cottage where behind the sturdy stone walls a woman I once knew continues to fall apart.
With my hands yanking at my hair, I swear and turn anxiously in the yard, looking out at the night and trying to piece everything together. Nothing made sense. Nothing. And yet I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened, what would have made her recoil so quickly at the first sign of comfort. The questions plagued me all the way home and well into the night, concern and pain creasing in the corners of my mind at the life she'd led since we last parted.