Chapter title from "gold rush" by Taylor Swift.

A little bit of a shorter chapter here, but I'm excited to keep developing this story. Thank you to everyone who still reads and supports this fic! Your sweet comments mean everything to me. I hope you like this one too :)


Christine doesn't start packing her things until the evening before she left Kingsport. It was funny, she thought, how she'd been a complete stranger to this town six months ago — yet now she was loath to leave it, even for three months. It felt more home to her than Bridgewater ever had. Perhaps it was the freedom she had here, away from the prying eyes of her family and everyone that knew her. The town and its people felt alive in the way they embraced her and made her feel part of it. Doris, of course, the sweetest girl among them all. And Gilbert...

Gilbert.

His photograph lies on the table, faintly illuminated by lamplight, and she feels a little twinge of guilt in her heart. She knows how it would look if any of her family or friends discover the picture. They would assume the worst, probably inventing stories of her running away with another man. Her mother would be irate, of course. Andrew probably wouldn't care about the photo, but he would definitely care about the gossip. He was a rich man that wanted the perfect wife, and it was in her best interests to provide him with what he wanted.

Perfect wives certainly didn't come home from college with a photograph of another man.

Christine knew in her heart of hearts that she could not explain Gilbert away as a friend of Ronald's who was looking after her in Kingsport. He had grown to mean so much more to her than that. No one had ever shown her the kindness and patience that he had. He always seemed to know what she was thinking, even if she never outright expressed it. And he was certainly handsome. Every girl at Redmond would agree to that. But the one thing about Gilbert that struck her, moved her, drew her to him — was the way he looked at her like he could see right through her. Like his hazel gaze pierced her in every direction, knowing everything about Christine Stuart that there possibly was to know. Not just Christine, pretty face; or Christine, music student; or even Christine, someone's future wife.

Christine laughs bitterly, her face growing hot. Future wife indeed. Bridgewater's most eligible belle about to be married off when her heart very clearly belonged to another. It was the first time she'd admitted it to herself — that she did love Gilbert. And she would never be able to have him. There was no question in the fact that she could not break off her engagement with Andrew. It would be social suicide. And in any case, Gilbert was still completely in love with Anne, and probably always would be.

Their predicaments were mirrored. They both wanted someone they couldn't have.

Someone knocks on her door. It's a quiet sound, but Christine bolts upright from where she's perched on her bed.

"Christine?" Doris's voice is slightly muffled through the door.

Christine quickly wipes her wet cheeks. She hadn't even noticed the tears running down her face. She wasn't really a crier. Apparently everything about her changed when she came to Redmond, she thought derisively.

Doris must have heard her sniffles, because the door opens a crack to reveal her concerned face peering around it. "What's wrong, Christine?" Her eyes scanned the room. "I thought you'd be done packing by now. And... you've been crying. Did something happen?"

Christine gives her a wan smile, another stubborn tear rolling down her cheek. "No. Nothing happened." And nothing ever will.

"Oh, Teeny," Doris says, closing the door behind her. In a few steps she's gathered Christine into her arms.

For once, Christine lets herself be held. She lets herself sob into her friend's shoulder until she doesn't need to anymore. When she finally lifts her head up, Doris is waiting to listen to her. She's never felt so loved in her life. "Doris, thank you, I..."

Doris smiles. "Don't mention it. Tell me what happened, Teeny." The nickname was one she'd picked up seeing Christine playing with the dog. Teeny and Jasper. It had felt appropriately cute. In this moment it felt like a sister's embrace. "Is it Gilbert?"

"Yes," Christine gasps. "How did you know?"

"I can tell you fancy him. Did you quarrel or something?"

"No... no, nothing like that."

"What then?"

"I..." Christine falters. "I think I might love him."

Doris grins. "I knew it! But then... why are you crying?"

Christine fiddles with the fabric of her skirt. She takes a deep breath. "Doris, I'm engaged." Her voice is so quiet it comes out as a croak.

The sweet girl's brow furrows in confusion. "To Gilbert? Already?"

"No. No. Someone else... from back home. In Bridgewater." Christine looks up at Doris, whose eyes are wide. Bit by bit, the whole story comes tumbling out. "His name's Andrew. It's been... a while, actually. Almost a year. I don't love him. Never did, really. He's rich and he thought I'd make a good wife. And everyone thought it was a good match... so I said yes. Because it's what everyone expected... because I'm beautiful, I suppose. And then — and then I came here. And Gilbert doesn't even care for me like that anyway... so everything's just a mess." She sniffles.

"Does Gilbert know?" Doris asks. She looks slightly dazed. Not that Christine blames her.

"That I'm engaged? Yes. My brother told him." She blinks away the tears that have started dripping afresh. "Of course I can't tell him I love him. Especially since I'm engaged... can you imagine what he'd think? He's a good man. He wouldn't... and besides," she wipes her eyes, trying to steady herself from her rambling. "Anne Shirley is the only woman for him."

"Has he said that to you? About Anne?"

"No," Christine says, defeatedly, "But I know Gilbert well enough to know that if she won't have him he will never marry."

For a moment, Doris doesn't say anything. Her expression is a mixture of sympathy and shock. She reaches out, taking Christine's hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "Oh, Christine..."

Christine clenched their hands together in her lap, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "I don't want to go back to Bridgewater. To Andrew. To any of it." Her voice cracked, and she felt a tear slip down her cheek. "I love Gilbert, Doris. And I know he'll never love me." She bit her lip, trying to hold back the sob that was building in her chest. "I've tried to be what everyone expects me to be, but I can't. I can't pretend anymore."

Doris looked at her with such understanding, such quiet compassion, that Christine felt her resolve not to cry crumble completely. "What are you going to do?" Doris asked softly, her voice steady.

"I don't know," Christine whispered. "I don't know how to fix this."