XLIV

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~𝒜𝒹𝒶~
Disconcerted. An adjective. Meaning, bewildered or confused, as by something unexpected:
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The first rays of dawn peek through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room. The air is filled with the promise of a new day, and as I slowly open my eyes, the warmth of the morning sunlight greets me. Turning to my side, I find Gilbert still peacefully asleep, his features softened by the gentle light.

The world outside seems to hold its breath, as if giving us a moment to savor the quiet intimacy of the morning. I watch the rhythmic rise and fall of Gilbert's chest, feeling a contented smile tug at the corners of my lips. The events of the previous night linger in the air.

Careful not to disturb his peaceful slumber, I slip out of bed and tiptoe to the window. The apple orchard unfolds before me, bathed in the soft hues of dawn. The familiar sight triggers memories of childhood adventures and the countless hours spent exploring its hidden corners with Gilbert.

Lost in reverie, I'm startled by a voice from behind. "Are you alright?" Gilbert, now awake, sits up in the bed, his gaze searching mine with a mix of curiosity and warmth.

I nod, the corners of my mouth lifting in a reassuring smile. "Yes. Just lost in thought." I breathe out.

He joins me by the window, and together we watch the morning sun paint the orchard in golden hues. "It's a beautiful morning." he muses.

"Isn't it?" I reply, our shoulders brushing as we share a quiet moment of reflection.

"Sorry I fell asleep on you." He chuckles, rubbing his tired eyes.

I shake my head. "I think we are both the guilty party. I forgot how warm that quilt is."

"I can't say I blame you. After traveling on an ocean liner and many trains, I would want to sleep too." Gilbert stretches, his movements accompanied by a satisfying groan. "Shall we get ready for the day?" he suggests.

I nod, turning away from the window. "Sounds like a plan."

He leaves my room and we go about our morning routines, the air is infused with a renewed energy. Once I'm finished with my clothes, I tie my hair up with a ribbon and I head down the hall to the kitchen. Mary and Sebastian are already there, engaged in a lively conversation. Gilbert follows me in.

Mary greets us with a warm smile. "Good morning, you two. Sleep well?"

Gilbert and I exchange a knowing glance, a shared secret hidden behind casual smiles. "Very well. Like a dream," he answers, and I nod in agreement.

Sebastian, ever the teasing friend, raises an eyebrow. "Dreamy, huh?" He looks to me. "Ada, you've gotta get this boy out of this funk. He's been all weird here lately."

I give Gilbert a questioning look but he quickly changes the subject. "What have you made, Mary?"

Mary sets a spread of pancakes, eggs, and fruit on the table. "A feast, for my favorite Canadian." She grabs my shoulder making me smile.

We all gather around the table, the morning sunlight filtering through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on our little breakfast feast. As we dig into the delicious spread, the conversation flows effortlessly. Mary shares snippets of Avonlea's recent happenings, Sebastian interjects with his characteristic humor, and Gilbert and I exchange glances.

Sebastian nudges me playfully. "So, Ada, any Parisian tales to share? Did you meet a dashing Frenchman who swept you off your feet?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "No dashing Frenchman, but I did have my fair share of culinary adventures. The bakeries in Paris are a dream. None in Avonlea can compete with the ones on 23rd Street."

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