Devoted To You || Gilbert Blythe

XXXIX

~𝒜𝒹𝒶~
Freight Car. A noun. Meaning, any car for carrying freight. Freight being cargo or goods.
_________________________

When we arrived home, Sebastian was nowhere to be found. As the evening settled in, Gilbert and I found ourselves near the cozy fireplace. The soft crackling of burning wood created a comforting backdrop to our conversation.

"When do you think Bash will be back?" I ask.

"I don't even know where he is so there is no telling." He takes a seat on the sofa beside me. "Let me take a look at that ankle," Gilbert suggested, his tone gentle. I hesitated for a moment but nodded, allowing him to assess the aftermath of my impromptu tumble.

He crouched down, carefully lifting my foot onto his lap. His touch was considerate, he pulls my sock down, his fingers probing gently around the affected area. "Does it hurt a lot?"

"It's manageable. I've had worse," I admitted, trying to downplay the discomfort.

He looked up, his eyes meeting mine. "You shouldn't have to endure pain in silence, Ada."

I offered a small smile. "I appreciate your concern. It's just a twisted ankle."

He continued his examination, his expression thoughtful. "You know, you're quite resilient and stubborn. That's the word you should've used to describe yourself."

"I learned to be resilient out of necessity," I replied, a hint of vulnerability creeping into my words.

Gilbert's gaze softened, and he reached for a nearby cloth, moistening it with warm water. "Hold on, this might help with the swelling."

As he gently applied the warm cloth to my ankle, I couldn't help but notice the tenderness in his actions even after I was a jerk to him all day.

"Thank you," I murmured, appreciating both the physical care and the unspoken understanding that passed between us.

Gilbert looked up, his eyes meeting mine. "Anytime, Ada."

"And I'm sorry for snapping at you this morning— and at lunch." I mumble.

"I forgive you, Ada. I can't ever stay mad at you for too long."

***

We went to bed expecting Bash to come home later, reassuring ourselves with the hope that he had found distraction elsewhere.

The following morning, worry etched lines on Gilbert's forehead as he sought information about Sebastian's whereabouts. As the day unfolded with no sign of Sebastian, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense.

Gilbert went out back to repair the fence that Bash had been trying to fix by himself for days. I went out to check on him. Frustration knitted Gilbert's brow as he grappled with the stubborn fence. His hands, calloused from hard work, clenched into fists, and a frustrated exhale escaped his lips. In a moment of raw emotion, he kicked the unyielding obstacle, a silent release of the tension that had been building within him.

"Ada, what are you doing outside?" His voice held a mixture of concern and exasperation as he noticed me lingering despite being under the weather.