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___ "Gilbert?" Marigold was flabbergasted. She did not expect to see her best friend during her trip or at all for that matter. Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it in her ears. Her palms were sweating. Her breath quicken. And when their eyes interlocked, time froze still. The group stood in silence, but the tension screamed in awkwardness and regret.
"I-I'm, um, going to find Jerry," Anne excused herself from the situation, giving Gilbert a polite nod before walking away, leaving Mary and Gilbert alone.
"So, um," Gilbert suttered, not sure on what to say. Therefore, Marigold decided to be the one to break the discomfort.
By slapping him.
"You're a twat," She spat at him, full of rage and a hint of sadness. Gilbert reached up to touch his face, that was slightly red from her hand.
"I deserved that," He nodded, getting where the blonde was coming from.
"You deserve a lot more than a slap for all the things you did to me, Gilbert Blythe."
"Mary I... um," He still couldn't find an excuse.
"Not even a goodbye? You confess your love for me and don't even have the dignity to tell me you're leaving?"
"It was hard to say goodbye."
"But it was easy to leave?"
"Marigold, it's not like that."
"Then what is it like, Gilbert?"
He was hesitant at first before he spoke, "Do you want to get some tea? Go someplace warmer and talk?"
"Fine," She reluctantly allowed, brushing pass him as she headed for the tea shop.
___
"So you like working on the docks?" Mary asked as she focused her eyes on the teacup in front of her, doing whatever it takes to calm herself before the inevitable conversation.
"It's a means to an end. I hope to get hired on a steamer soon."
"May I ask what about your farm?"
"I don't have to decide right now. I want to see some of the world first. If I come back to Avonlea I want it to be my choice, not an obligation. It's what my dad would've wanted. I'm sorry to hear about Mr. Cuthbert taking sick and all those troubles."
