Heart Attack • Shirbert

• 55 • proposals, presumptions, and paris

'I've been there too many times to,

Hope for things to change'

--

Earlier that morning, Gilbert woke up startled. Not a headache in sight, but he was heavy with guilt.

What have I done?

He knew the repercussions he'd possibly face. Every time he asserted to Anne he loved her it ended in them tiptoeing around each other until they pretended like it didn't exist anymore.

But no, things were much much worse this time. Now they had a decision deadline on the horizon, and a dance in just a few days.

Not to mention, Winifred was on her way to his home, today.

Gilbert made his way to the bathroom and splashed water on his face.

What was I thinking?

The thing was, Gilbert wasn't thinking. He was acting on instinct.

What's more important? My head or my heart?

He descended the stairs into the kitchen to see Mary making something that made his stomach churn.

I guess food is not what I need this morning.

"Good morning Mary." He tried to sound at least a little happy in that moment, but the combination of a weak stomach and regret did not make his tone sound the least bit welcoming.

"Good morning there, heavy head." Mary teased, not turning away from her cooking, "there's some Trinidadian bush medicine on the table for you."

Gilbert walked over to the table and eyed a glass of something murky and green, "What is this?"

"Don't question it and drink."

Gilbert cut his losses and threw the drink back in his throat.

He didn't know what he tasted, but it was earthy if anything.

Gilbert coughed, "What was that?"

"You'll feel better in an hour, and that's what matters." Mary shook her head, "So how was-"

"She's coming today."

Mary finally turned away from her frying pan, "Who?"

"Winifred." Gilbert tapped his foot, "I invited her over for tea."

Mary wordlessly raised her eyebrows. This could go one of two ways: he's proposing or he's confessing.

Proposing would trap him in a marriage Mary knew he didn't want. Confessing would force him down a difficult path involving a certain red head who couldn't navigate her own feelings.

Either way, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. And Mary couldn't wait for that.

Ending the silence, Gilbert finally raised his eyes to meet hers, "I'm going to end our courtship."

She played innocent, "And why's that?"

"You know exactly why."

"Yes." Mary couldn't help the devilish smile that appeared on her face, "But I want to hear you say it."

Gilbert was unamused, "It's not fair to her. My heart is elsewhere, it always has been."

He thought of the previous night, "I can't pretend any longer."

Delly whimpered from across the room, so Gilbert instinctively went to the crib much too small for her now and picked her up.

Mary watched on fondly. As much as Gilbert's love trials felt trivial, she saw the good in him.