The next few days have me twisted up inside. Part of me is glad that Anne is back in my life, even if just peripherally. The other part of me can't stop thinking about the life she's lived since I distanced myself from her.
She'd experienced an entire lifetime without me. Had courted, married, found herself lost and alone. The man she'd married hadn't understood the importance, or hadn't cared enough about it, to let her go to Marilla's funeral. What kind of man did that? What kind of man doused her fire instead of building it?
When Anne and I had stopped talking she had been in her prime, young, beautiful, a passion for learning and an imagination that couldn't be stopped. It had been the reason I'd been so in love with her, why withdrawing from her had taken everything I had and left me gutted. But the man she'd fallen for instead of me… He'd wanted to capture her and keep her for his own selfish reasons and he had held on so tightly, had clung to the power of it so forcefully, that in the process he'd starved everything that made her shine so brightly.
It pained me to think about it but I couldn't stop. I wanted to know everything. I wanted to make her come back to life and be the girl she once was. I couldn't go back in time and change things but I could move forward and try to find the pieces of her that she'd dropped somewhere along the way.
I could be her friend. I could do that for her, even if it hurt.
"Gilbert, I've been talking to you for nearly five minutes now," Michael groans, snapping his fingers across the table at me. "I was trying to tell you my deep dark secrets and you just ignored me. I'm hurt."
"Oh, come now! You know that's not true!" I counter and shake my head, mirth lighting up the man's face. "You do have to remind me what we were talking about though…"
"What has come over you lately? It is like you're lost in thought far more than usual."
"Probably because I am. The practice has been busy and I've been trying to figure out a few things for a friend of mine but it's proven to be a bit difficult, I will admit." Michael smiles, his eyes lighting up at the door I've just opened.
"A friend, eh? What kind of friend are we talking about here? Perhaps a lovely one?" He whispers conspiratorially, leaning forward in his seat. I feel my cheeks heat as I look away, biting my tongue. "Ah - I see, I see. Well isn't this a spectacular turn of events…"
"Michael, please. It's not like that," I lie. I lie so clearly that my ears burn with it.
"Yes, well of course it isn't. Clearly you turn this shade when you talk of me to your other non-existent friends!" He boasts with a puff of his chest. I shake my head and cover my face, sighing into my palm.
"Why don't we circle back to this another day?" When my head isn't spinning, I think to myself, desperate to get away from this line of questioning. For a moment I think he'll press on, his mouth opening widely and then pausing, before he sits back and watches me curiously.
"Fine. I'll give in for now," he agrees, looking me over once more. "But do keep me in the loop when you propose, will you? I love a good wedding."
"It's not - " I start and freeze, my eyes lighting on Anne a few steps away as she looks over at us. In an instant she's turning back to the cashier, collecting her items and tucking them against her chest before hurrying through the door. I sit with my mouth agape as she goes, half a mind to go after her but stopping when I see her disappear down the street.
"Gilbert, are you referring to Miss Wright?" Michael prods after watching me with keen eyes, his logic putting the pieces together easily.
"Michael…" It slips out as a warning, my voice breathy as I look down at the table.
"I feel there's a story here that you're not sharing and while I understand you don't want to speak it now, I will tell you that the look of utter defeat on your face as you watched her go was quite possibly one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever had to witness," he says, shifting anxiously in his seat. "I hope she isn't being too hard on you - "
"She's not - I mean, she isn't - " I sit back and rub my face, looking towards the door to the shop once more and groaning. "It's complicated."
"Aren't they all?" The statement sits on the air between us, heavy but honest.
"I knew her a long time ago and she's had a rough go of things since then. I won't discuss it but I will say I've been trying to find a way around the difficulties and it's not easy," I admit finally. He watches me quietly, waiting out my thoughts. "For example, I'm worried now that she's overheard you and will spend the rest of her life angry at me. It's probably an exaggeration, but that's where I'm convinced we're at."
"I doubt that highly. But if you would like to go find her, I can settle up here," he offers softly. I shake my head and sit up straight, meeting his gaze.
"It's fine. Let's continue to discuss the practice's finances to get my mind off of it."
We settle into a rhythm after that, Michael pulling out the records and going over the expenses with me. Neither of us mention the odd sighting or how it had tinged the room with a sense of uncertainty. When eventually we wrap up and step out into the street, Michael is the first to clap his hand on my shoulder and pull my eyes towards him.
"I know it's not my place but I wanted to remind you that great things are never easy. If it's meant to - "
"Fate has already reminded me, Michael," I sigh, smiling as I look towards the direction of the schoolhouse. He chuckles and gives me a light squeeze before turning to head on his way.