AHEAD BY A CENTURY - ANNE WITH AN E

19. Stay with me

Anne Shirley Cuthbert paced the bleak, hospital corridors. After the previous nights events, Marilla had a wooden carriage-wagon come and deliver Matthew to the hospital in Charlotte-town.
"You must try and eat, Marilla." Spoke Anne, breaking the seemingly eternal silence.
"Don't you fret about my eating habits, Anne." Marilla croaked, "why don't you freshen up in the washroom. Your hair is a tangled mess." In times of emotional discomfort, Marilla Cuthbert only seemed to harden more so than she already was.

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Peering at her reflection in the washroom, Anne could identify an exhaustion prompted darkness forming below her eyes. "Matthew will be..." Anne hesitated for a moment and inhaled, "okay!?.." She spoke with uncertainty.
Anne returned to the waiting room, where Marilla awaited her usually hopeful presence.
"Any news?" Anne tried to convey hope and optimism within these austere times, without much luck.
"Oh, for goodness sake, Anne. I'll tell you if so. But for now try to hold your tongue." Marilla sighed. Deep down, Marilla knew Anne wasn't vexing her, but If she didn't show anger or annoyance, she wouldn't be able to contain her sadness. And if Marilla couldn't hold in her tears, there was no way Anne could.

Hours passed, but to the distressed Cuthberts it felt like an eternity of an unknown fate. At last a bearded man, decked out in a doctors coat, emerged from the room containing potentially life-changing contents.
"How is he, Doctor? Croaked Marilla, Anne sat up in her seat, eager to hear the highly anticipated news. The paleness of Anne's delicate, freckled face highlighted her radiant fire-like locks, currently stuffed into a messy side braid out of lack of caring for anything but Matthews health. She had changed from her newly received gown to her old penny brown dress.
"He's recovering from a minor heart attack. We'll keep him here for a few days. He'll be home by the weeks end."
Anne and Marilla exchanged relieved glances.
They returned home after 16 hours of sleep deprived anticipation.

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As the warm amber sun was setting and the dark, looming clouds closed in on it, Anne awoke from her rest to the sound of rapid knocking on green gables. Anne fumbled for her rather tattered house coat and stumbled down the stairs.
"Anne." Marilla had opened the door, "Gilbert Blythe is here to see you - come in Gilbert." A rather distressed Gilbert Blythe materialised from the front, kitchen door.
"I'll leave you two to talk." Excused Marilla.
They both sit across from one another at the kitchen table. Their once locked eyes do not meet. They barely glance in ones direction.
"How are you. Anne." The silence was now broken and the awkward aura had vanished.
"I'm... good." She lied.
"Thats... good." Gilbert gave Anne a look full of sympathy.
They exchanged bleak, stiff words, both repressing their true feelings with half-hearted smiles.
"Well.. glad you're okay." The silence had reappeared and stuck around a little longer before urging Gilbert to go home, and so he did, they spoke of awkward goodbyes and barley gave each other a second glance.
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Anne broke down in tears, clutching the tear stained fabric of her dress where, beneath, her heart lay, she felt so overwhelmed, why couldn't she talk to Gilbert the way she always did, openly.
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Gilbert came to a halt outside of green gables, without so much as slight hesitation, he turned around and raced back down the cobble-path leading to green gables, and through the door. He rushed to a broken down Anne, and engulfed her within this lightly muscled, firm, comforting arms. He placed his head into the space between her jaw and shoulder. He removed one arm from Anne's trembling back and interlocked his fingers with Anne's fingers - shaking, and bony.

A/N

Here's a cute lil chapter that took me a week to write because I don't trust my impulsive writing.
Comment and vote for the next chapter. :)