I don't see Anne for nearly a month, her door going unanswered and catching no sight of her in town when I'm not working. I'm not foolish enough to think of ambushing her at school but with every passing day I grow more concerned, more terrified that I've somehow pushed her further away.
It's ridiculous, I know, but still. Was it possible to lose something you never had? The question dogs me every night now.
"Here you go, Doctor Blythe," Elizabeth Collins chirps, looking up from the items I've purchased with a wide smile. I turn away from where I look out of the window to the store, my absent mindedness evident even now as I try to complete my weekly restocking.
"Thank you Lizzie," I pay and grab my bags, heading into the street to tuck the items safely in my saddlebag. I'm nearly to my horse when Susan steps alongside me, her hand catching my arm in a tight grip.
"Doctor Blythe, I hope all is well with you," she greets quietly, drawing my attention towards her.
"Mrs Baker, how is Miss Wright?" I try to remain neutral, my voice cracking as the memory of that night flashes in my mind's eye.
"I would prefer not to say… Perhaps we may borrow you for a moment at the surgery if it's not too much to ask?" Glancing around us I try to find her in the crowd, my eyes searching but eventually being drawn down towards the woman before me.
"Yes - I could arrange that. Let me just settle my things and I'll be right over." Tucking my purchases into the bags I suck in a breath and close my eyes to think over what to say. I couldn't afford a misstep this time - I needed to maintain my composure and try to offer her something, anything, to help her with what she was working through.
Coming upon the surgery's building I watch as Anne shuffles along the walkway, her black skirts shifting in the wind and her face drawn. Even from a distance I can practically see the dark circles under her eyes, the sight of her causing me to rush forward. In the blink of an eye I've opened the door to the office and turned to take her arm, Susan's hand snaking out to push mine away. I fight the urge to comment, stepping back as Susan helps Anne towards the examination room in the back.
By the way she moves I know it's not a social call, my stomach in my throat as I grab my medical bag and move to haunt the doorway as Susan gets her settled on the bed. "May I come in?" I ask, a stranger in this scenario looking in on something almost secret.
"Yes. I'm sorry - I didn't want to bother you but Susan insisted," Anne whispers, her voice tight with pain. My mouth dries at the sound of it, the only thing saving me being my medical training coming to the forefront.
"Don't apologize - what's going on?" I sit on the stool near the edge of the mattress and look up at her, watching as she closes her eyes and shakes her head.
"I think I'm having a miscarriage," Anne states evenly, opening her eyes to look at me head on. I have to fight to take a breath, my hands tightening on my knees instinctively. "I've experienced two before and they were quite similar to what has been happening this morning but Susan wanted to - "
"So you dragged her to town?" I snap and then exhale, closing my eyes. "My apologies - I only meant to question why you didn't call me to the cottage?" I get to my feet and begin my examination, motioning for her to lay back and reaching for my stethoscope.
"She is particularly stubborn, Doctor Blythe," Susan says in return, careful to remain steady as she grips Anne's hand.
"Ah, so not much has changed then…" I pause and look towards Anne's face, sympathy clear in my eyes as I remember the distance she's put between any contact since coming back into my life. "Are you okay with me doing a brief exam? You can tell me about your symptoms as we go."
She nods and starts to describe the cramping and bleeding, the lack of monthly cycles that she's experienced since coming to the Glen. I check her pulse and her temperature, the sounds of breath in her chest and sweep for any swelling in the abdomen. When she shifts upward to let me place my stethoscope at her back she groans and holds tightly to the bedsheets, her knuckles turning white.
"And you've - this has happened before?" I question calmly though it pains me to ask. She nods and recites the months and years numbly, her hands rubbing anxiously over her wrists and throat until her skin reddens. "I do think that is what's happening, based on what I'm observing and hearing here but I would like to check on you again in a few hours, just to be sure. Unfortunately - "
"Don't say it, please," she breaks in, her eyes snapping up to mine. "I'm well aware of my body's repeated failures."
"I wasn't going to say - "
"Please," she breathes, her gaze hardening. I take notice of the way her back straightens and Susan steps forward protectively. Holding up my hands to show my surrender, I step back from the bed and look between the two women.
"Mrs Baker, I would appreciate you taking Anne home and settling her into bed. I would also like it if I was permitted to stop by and check in again this evening…"
"You may. I do believe we would all sleep better if you did," Susan replies and moves forward to help Anne back to her feet. I stand back and let them pass, following them out into the waiting area and watching as they straighten their clothing and bags. "Thank you, Doctor. I'll be sure to have the tea ready when you arrive - it's getting colder out there now."
"Thank you Mrs Baker," I bid, settling the stethoscope around my neck and twisting my hands around it. They're nearly through the door when I jog towards it, Anne's step faltering as she looks back up at me. "I'm sorry," I add quietly and watch as she smiles gently, eyes clear.
"It's sadly better this way," she replies and then they're gone and I'm left to place more unanswered questions on my growing list.
When I arrive at the small cottage later that evening Susan opens the door before I even knock, her composure more welcoming than it's ever been as she shows me into Anne's bedroom without a question raised. I hesitate at the doorway, taking in the sight of the minimal decor and the lone carpetbag tucked into the corner.
"You can go in Doctor, we've already discussed it and she didn't feel quite up to getting out of bed," Susan urges, leading me into the room and to a waiting chair at the bedside. She sets the tea tray down on the side table and leaves the room to busy herself in the kitchen.
I settle myself into the chair and open my black bag to pull out my supplies, watching as slowly Anne's eyes open and she looks up at me with a curious stare.
"What?" I prompt when she doesn't speak, her body shifting until she's sitting up in her nightgown with a heavy sweater pulled tightly around her. It seems almost improper to sit here, next to her in bed, but I force myself to focus and treat her like any other patient I would care for.
"I know you may think that this is difficult but I beg you not to hold it against me that I'm thankful for this," she answers quietly, surely, her voice steady. I let her words sit with me for a moment, the evolution of my thoughts taking me through a whirlwind of feelings and dropping me back at her bedside.
"I wouldn't ever judge you for your feelings. I can only imagine what you may have experienced to make you thankful for something like this," I try to reply neutrally, hoping my words don't come out as prying for more. She looks up at me then, her grey-green eyes darkened in the low light.
"We haven't spoken in some time, Gilbert, and there are many things that have happened in my life that I'm not proud of," she states formally and lifts her chin as I press my stethoscope to her chest.
"It isn't my place to evaluate your decisions but I do hope you know that if you ever want to talk about things, I'm here for you." A silence spreads between us as I check a few more things, my thoughts focusing on the life she's lived and the pain she must have suffered.
"I wanted children, you know," she pauses as I look up at her, her gaze averted. "I thought I would build a home for them and they would be so loved. But then this… This happened and I thought that maybe it was the world telling me I wasn't ready. And when it happened again I knew that it was a sign that I wasn't meant to have kids. I wanted them too much, I think."
The heartbreak in her voice is almost palpable, my own throat forming a lump as she shifts uncomfortably under my watch. "Did your doctor provide you with a diagnosis when you saw him for the first two?"
Shaking her head slowly she glances up at me, uncertainty in her eyes. "The first doctor never talked to me, he would only talk to my husband in the next room. Something foolish about me being too weak to handle the news. The second one was a bit kinder. He told me when we had a moment of privacy that I likely couldn't have any children. That hurt more than you could believe, to hear that."
"Anne," I whisper, watching as a range of emotions cloud her expression. She looks away abruptly and inhales a shaky breath, settling herself. "There are many reasons why this may keep happening to you but none of them are your fault. I need you to know that." I withdraw my hands and tuck them in my lap, watching as she moves the hair over her shoulder after a quick nod. I can see the red starting to return to the roots of her hair, the dull change of the colour apparent through the dye. "Why black?" I ask as my fingers find her pulse in her wrist, my questioning determined to lighten the mood.
Her eyes light up for the briefest of moments before a small smile passes over her lips, reminding me of the girl I once knew. I knew she was still in there, somewhere, just tucked away under all this pain. There she was a little less broken, a little more vibrant. "It was the first colour I could think of that would make me blend in," she replies honestly, lifting her shoulders.
"It doesn't do you justice," I admit and wait for her to snap back at me, tentative in my approach. She only sighs and looks up at me, like she's trying to tell me something but coming up empty. "Though if you were trying to join the Wright family, I guess it's spot on."
That gets a laugh out of her, a small bark that brings colour back to her cheeks. "Is my name really that telling?"
"Oh, for me? Yes. When I heard the given name that you were using I nearly choked on my dinner. I had no idea that it was you but 'Cordelia Wright'? For anyone that knew you it would raise some red flags for sure," I chide, my voice lilting as she smiles up at me.
"I asked Diana if she would mind terribly if I used her name when I came here. She was the only one I wrote to after - I mean… After." Her body tenses and her brow furrows as she looks away, a shadow passing over her expression. With her hands twisted in her lap I shift in my chair, uncertain how to proceed and continue talking with her. "I believe I owe you some sort of explanation," she breathes after a moment, her gaze focused on the window.
"You don't owe me anything, Anne. But if you would like to tell me I will listen to you without judgement," I promise and inch closer in my chair, desperate to ease her mind in any way I can.
"My husband was not who I thought he was when I married him. I had idealized some of his traits and after the wedding it all came to a head. After my first miscarriage he - " she swallows tightly, her gaze averted. "He hurt me. I told myself it was just the emotions running high. That we both felt them so brightly that he got carried away. But it was like a dam broke and it just happened again and again. I tried to rationalize it. I wrote to Marilla but I never sent the letters. I - I even went to the train station once but he came and got me before the train left."
"Anne," I whisper, hoping that her name pulls her back from the memories that she's sinking into. It works, if only for a moment, and she exhales harshly.
"When I still couldn't give him an heir it just got worse. I tried to leave but I never had enough money to get back to the Island and home. I was alone and stuck and every time I tried he just found me again and again."
I swallow back the words of anger that fill my mouth, clenching my hand around my stethoscope until it bites into my palm. My bright and shining Anne, the hopeful girl with dreams and an imagination that ran wild, was forced into submission and had had to fight her way out. I couldn't fathom the type of person that would do this to someone, to her.
"Why didn't you ever ask me for help? You had to have known - "
"Gil," she interrupts me, her eyes sharp. "Even if I'd known where you'd ended up, did you truly believe that I would come to you for something like this? After everything?"
"I once offered to slay dragons for you, Anne Shirley," I remind her, hoping to break the tension that's sparking between us. She can't bite back the smile at that, her eyes rolling as she pulls her knees to her chest below the blanket. "I would have come for you. In a second, I would have helped you," I add quietly after a moment, pensive.
"Marilla would have too. She would have sold the whole farm to come get me if she'd had to. That's why I finally was able to get away. When I got Rachel Lynde's letter I fell apart. I pleaded with Roy - "
"Gardner?" The clarification clips out of me before I can stop it, the truth slapping me in the face as she nods slightly. I feel it hit me like a rock, settling in my chest and rolling over me with her confirmation. Some small part of me had hoped it had been any other man that did this to her, at least then I would have been unable to stop it. But I knew Roy. I knew when they were courting and I did nothing. The shame that floods into my chest is numbing and I have to focus as she presses on.
"Roy wouldn't let me go to her funeral and I lost everything when that happened. I had to leave then and it happened so quickly. I told his mother that I wanted to surprise him with a nursery crib and I used that money and the small amount I'd hidden away to get on a boat back to the Island. It was a terrible journey but when I arrived in Charlottetown I connected with Diana and explained what happened. I don't even understand how she made it work but within a day she had arranged for a position for me and assured me I wouldn't ever go back."
"But why change your appearance? And your name?" I ask foolishly, drawn into her storytelling like all of the times before when she'd entranced me.
"He'd found me before. I couldn't be Anne here. What if he comes looking for me? Or sends someone looking for me? How many redheaded Anne's do you think there are on this small rock?" She scoffs, waving her hand and tucking her chin into her knees.
"Are you still afraid he'll find you?" The question settles between us and she adjusts, slow to address it.
"It's been only a few months. I'm glad I'm ill because I'll have no connections to him now, but I do think about it. Every night I think about what will happen when he finds me," she admits and hides her tears in her sweater sleeve.
"He'll never take you, Anne. Not ever," I swear, settling my hand next to hers but not daring touch her without her action. I'd learned from the last time, from what she's told me. Touch was not a kind memory to her right now.
"You can't promise that, Gil," she breathes before linking her pinky with mine. A small bridge in a world of pain.
"I can. I am." It comes out of my mouth so confidently that I nearly don't believe it myself, my old habits of being ready to give everything almost stunning me into silence. I decide then I need to break the tension if we were ever going to find a new normal. "I am glad you shared this with me, Anne. I promise it's safe for you here and that I won't share this with anyone. Can you just tell me one thing though? Why you have been avoiding me? I mean," I pause and chuckle as she looks at me plainly, an eyebrow raised. "Why did you run from me those first few times we came across one another?"
She smiles slightly and looks away, shrugging. "I've tried to stay out of your way, I will admit."
"You've actively avoided me and used Susan to distract me. I'd say that's a little much, even for you," I add with a grin and shift myself an inch closer.
"Fine. I concede. I was scared to see you. To tell you why I was here, looking like this and using a fake name." The truth of it settles in my gut like a rock. I try to not let it drag me down, smiling through the hurt that rings in my body at her words.
"Why would you be scared to see me?" I force from my lips, watching as she sits up straighter.
"Because we never really left off on the right foot, I don't think. After… What happened in the orchard we didn't really talk. And I guess that made me nervous about simply showing up in your town and making a place for myself here." Her voice drops as she finishes, her hands busying themselves in her lap.
"That's partly my fault," I whisper after a drawn out moment, running my hand through my hair and scratching at the back of my neck. "We were friends and I closed myself off from you. I shouldn't have done that."
"What's in the past…" Anne surmised quietly, her eyes flicking up to mine and then darting away as quick as they'd come. The silence between us drags on, our tea cold by the time she's able to look at me once more. "It's getting late."
Nodding, I get to my feet and reluctantly move towards the door. I still have questions, hundreds, thousands of them, but they can wait for another night I tell myself. We have time.
"I would like to see you again. Definitely to ensure you're okay after today… But outside of that too. Would you maybe be okay with that?" I ask as I stand near the door, my bag in my hand and my jacket slung over my arm. She grins and shakes her head, looking up at me with a lightness I hadn't seen yet from her that night.
"As long as you refer to me by Miss Wright, I shall humour your request," she counters and I nod in return, the name unfamiliar on my lips.
"Really though, Cordelia Wright?" I tease, my gaze never leaving hers.
"I needed something to disappear into and you know I always had a fondness for a dear Princess Cordelia," she says and leans back onto her pillows, pulling her sweater across her chest in a marked change. "Goodnight Doctor Blythe."
"If I'm going to call you by your chosen name you at least have to call me by my given name," I remark as I step into the hallway. Her spark of laughter follows me down the hall and Susan meets me at the stairwell, showing me out with a careful smile. "Mrs Baker, please let me know if anything changes in the next day or so. I'm only just up the road."
"Understood, Doctor. Thank you for coming this evening. It's the first time I've heard her actually laugh since she got here," Susan remarks and closes the door as I step into the yard.
I take a final look up towards her bedroom window, a quiet anxiousness filling me as I head towards home.