The winter passes in the blink of an eye, the Glen starting to come alive as the spring sets in. Babies are being born at almost impossible rates and I find myself run off my feet more than once, both Susan and Michael cornering me regularly with food from their homes to keep me sustained in the long hours.
Though I'm working every day I still manage to somehow see Anne at least once a week, her calming presence soothing as she comes to find me at the surgery late in the evening when the lamps are low and the wind shudders the window panes.
"I miss you lately, you know," she says quietly one evening on such an occasion, the March storm raging outside making the effort to go home almost insurmountable. I don't mind though - no matter how much I want my bed - because I'm not alone here.
"What's that?" I reply distractedly, looking up from my paperwork to see her sitting on the edge of my desk. When had she gotten there? I wonder to myself, setting down my pen and getting to my feet instinctively to join her.
"I said that I miss you and you just ignored me," she huffs playfully, shaking her head and looking away. I clasp at her hand and draw it to me, bringing her attention back to me. Months ago this action would have opened a chasm between us, my touch having been like a burn. But we'd come a long way over these cold winter months and she finally didn't shy away from my touch like she'd used to. It had been a bittersweet victory that I'd revelled in secretly, hopeful that it would stay like this forever.
"I wouldn't say I ignored you. Just that I was working on this form and you didn't give me any warning that you were going to say something so sweet," I counter and step closer to her, our bodies near enough to feel each other's heat.
"Well, I could argue that's your fault for not paying attention to me when I come to visit you. That's just poor manners, Doctor Blythe." I glance down at her tiny smile, the way her eyes light up when they catch the light just so. I'm drawn to her so strongly that when I lift my hand to her cheek I do so without thinking about whether it's too much, whether it'll push her away. I just do it.
And I'm rewarded by her quiet sigh, the closing of her eyes as she presses her own hand to mine to keep my palm against her. In another breath she's resting her head on my chest, closing the distance between us and making my body sing with how she curls in closer. It feels almost too good to be true when she wraps an arm around me and exhales a shaky breath.
"Anne-girl," I breathe, wanting desperately to cling to her but forcing myself to remain still as she finds her home against me.
"I've missed you, Gilbert. All this time. All of this forever. I've missed you," she says with a broken voice, the crackle of it giving way to tears that soak into my shirt. I can't fight it anymore and I wrap her up in my arms, my lips pressing a kiss to the crown of her head as I rock us in the dim light of the surgery. For the briefest of seconds I think she's going to pull away as she freezes, her breathing catching as she slowly starts to relax in my embrace.
"I've missed you too. I'm so sorry I wasn't there," I whisper against her forehead, my own eyes fighting back tears as her fingers tighten along my spine.
"I was lost. I was stuck and in a world I didn't understand and when I got here to the Glen I was so scared. But then you were there and it almost seemed like I could keep living. These months with you, just talking with you again after all this time… Gil, I didn't know I could feel this again. I thought - "
"I know. I know, Anne," I repeat wearily, leaning back and taking her chin in my hands so that I can look at her head on. Leaning towards her I pause, a breath away from her lips, and wait for her to close that last bit of distance.
When she does it's enough to make me stumble, lightheaded and full of disbelief as Anne Shirley kisses me in ernest. In my haste to be closer my hands slip, the space between my thumb and forefinger pressing against her throat and she cries out, slapping at my chest and pushing away from me before falling back onto the floor. I see the terror in her eyes, the feral look that passes over her features as she scurries back from me and grabs at her own throat as though she were injured.
In the bleakest realization I've ever had I know exactly why she'd lurched away, my own hands having caused her to react instinctively to a memory that must have destroyed a part of her. My heart breaks as she crumbles, her hands coming up to cover her face as she turns away from me and leans against the wall as far from me as she can get.
I fall to my knees as I watch her shudder and sob, my voice weak as I try to apologize.
Our shattered tableau holds in place for what seems like forever, the hope from only moments earlier lost in one fell swoop. My own eyes leak hot tears as I wait in silence for her to still, for her crying to subside, the fear of making it any worse keeping me at a distance.
"Gilbert," she whimpers eventually, forcing her hiccuping breaths to slow. I watch her with care, my hands flexing uselessly at my sides. "Please, come hold me." I don't hesitate, not for a moment. I crawl to her frantically and draw her into my lap, holding her head against my chest as she cries heavily once more.
We sit together on the floor until she runs out of tears to cry, her panicked soul softening with exhaustion as I soothe her with my hands. I hate Roy Gardner in that moment more than I've hated anyone before in my entire life. What had been such a moment of closeness between us had been ruined by a man who'd taken everything from her and left her with demons too vivid to escape.
But still, I was here to hold her close. I was here to help her. There had to be some hope in that.
"You're alright now," I whisper into her hair, the light from the oil lamp flickering as it nears its end. In another second it's gone and we're left in the dark, clinging to one another as the evening moves and the storm outside continues its blustery fervor.
When finally she stills, her fingers looped in the lapels of my shirt and her knuckles shifting against the skin of my chest, I allow myself to exhale and press my forehead to her temple. Our breath intermingles in the silence, our hearts thumping heavily in our chests. Her lips find mine on a whisper light touch, almost like she'd intended to speak my name without sound.
"Gil," she sighs, her hand pulling my head towards hers and deepening the kiss until I've no air and no will to live without her touch. She drags me onward, holding me to her and seeking out everything I have to give. As her tongue slides against my lips I gasp and allow her entry, my hands clinging to her hips as we get lost in one another.
I don't know how long we sit together on that floor, exploring each others mouths for the first time in so long that it feels almost like when we were young.
"I love you," I murmur eventually, my lips tracing across her skin in the places I know where thoughts of him still linger. I long to take those memories from her, to give her fresh ones with no pain, and so I set about my task with a devotion that makes her shiver under my touch.
"I can't say it yet," she replies after a moment, drawing me back to the present and my own admission. I capture her lips once more with mine, a thumb moving across her brow slowly.
"It still stands," I answer with a soft smile, seeking out her eyes in the low light. She answers by burrowing into me tighter, her tousled hair playing against my chin and making my chest ache.
Eventually my stomach growls and she pulls away reluctantly, moving to her feet and dragging me to my own. We stand still together for a moment longer, my fingers tangled in her skirts and her own exploring the expanse of my chest and making my skin burn with want.
"I guess we should go home," she says lowly, withdrawing from me and leaving me feeling empty. The choice in her wording makes me long for a future where we shared a home, where going home meant never parting from her.
"Yes - perhaps we should. Did you walk here?" I ask as I step away and begin to gather my things in the dark. She pulls on her coat and I see her nod, the look she gives to the outside world almost furious. "Would you like to share a horse? I know it won't look proper but I promise it'll get you home in half the time."
She considers it for a minute, tucking her scarf into her jacket and pulling on her bright leather gloves. "I guess what we've done here wasn't really that proper either, was it Doctor Blythe?" She says with a throaty laugh, my cheeks burning with the realization.
"You've got me there. Horse it is."
We lock up the surgery and head towards the stables where my horse is already saddled and ready to go. I climb up easily and then consider the next step, weighing the comfort of my passenger.
"Do you prefer sideways or straddling behind me?" I ask with a laugh, watching as she looks up at me with fear. "Both are perfectly safe. But you may prefer to sit up front with those skirts, it's a better view and all…"
"Because I'm worried about the view!" She scoffs and sighs, dragging over a stool and stepping up onto it. "You're going to need to start bringing that buggy into town more regularly, Doctor Blythe," she chides, reaching an arm out towards me. I pull her up onto the saddle before me, her hip resting between my thighs as she turns to look at me.
I exhale tightly and look down at her, willing my body to behave as she shimmies closer. "Are you comfortable, Miss Wright?" I ask and gather the reins from around her. She doesn't respond, her cheeks red and her hands tucked safely in her lap. "I don't think you'll be steady enough without holding onto something," I murmur as I steer the horse towards the entryway.
The bumps of the horse's movements shake her abruptly and she gasps, wrapping and arm around my waist and tucking herself into my chest.
"Better," I laugh even though all I can think of is how I want her closer.
We head for home through the thick snow, her warmth against my chest so comfortable that when I eventually turn towards her small cottage it's with reluctance that I do so. She seems to feel it too because instead of hopping down from her perch she only cuddles in closer for a moment, her hands tightly curled in my jacket.
"I think Susan's watching us from the kitchen window," I mumble against her brow. She shrugs and burrows tighter, yawning as I run a hand along her side. "I don't want her to think badly of me, Anne," I continue, squeezing her hip in my hand. Lifting her head to look at me she blinks, her tongue darting out to graze across her lips.
"She could never… She adores you," she states evenly, watching as my cheeks flush. With a smile and a soft kiss she finally pulls away, slipping off the saddle and onto the ground with as much grace as she can manage.
"The Turner's are having me over for dinner tomorrow. Would you like to come?" I blurt out as she turns towards her front door, my words gaining me one more bright smile from her.
"Yes, that would be lovely." I nearly fall off my horse at the way she looks at me then, almost as if she were wanting me to chase after her and never let her go. Swallowing thickly I lift myself properly into the saddle and head for home, sure that if I were to stay a minute longer I would follow her into that cottage and up to her room without hesitation.