Anne with an e- a new version of the story

Chapter 85 - Memories

GILBERT

Three days, three long days and Anne never showed up. Gilbert counted the hours, minutes and seconds since the last day he had seen her, and his heart grew sadder and sadder. Where could she be? Why hadn't she come to visit him? Had he offended her in some way? Perhaps he shouldn't have said that he wanted to kiss her, but he had been stronger than him, and as a result he had frightened her and probably driven her away forever.

How could he have been so stupid? Anne had a fiancé whom she loved, how many times would he have to repeat that to himself before he understood that she was out of his reach?

Another detail he couldn't forget was that he was also engaged, the problem was convincing his heart that the girl who looked at him with malice, and often smiled wryly, was the one he had chosen to spend the rest of his days with.

Sabrina was beautiful, with a well-built body, long black hair down to her waist, and a sensual gait that she made a point of showing off as if she thought she could seduce whoever she wanted. But her attempts didn't work with Gilbert. Her smile irritated him, the strong perfume she wore made him sick, and the kisses they exchanged, more at her insistence, didn't please him at all. So why carry on with an engagement that didn't make him happy, he thought, but then Sabrina hinted that they had both gone too far in certain intimate moments, which made Gilbert realize how difficult the situation he was in was. He couldn't leave her now. He wasn't the kind of guy who used a girl for pleasure and then dismissed her. He had to honor his word and marry Sabrina, that's what his father would have told him to do, and disrespecting the memory of the most upright man he had ever met, and betraying the principles he had taught him, would make Gilbert feel devastated and guilty.

However, no matter how hard he tried, Gilbert couldn't feel any kind of complicity with this girl, she seemed more distant to him than the icy Andes mountains. He had tried for several days to be interested in the things she said, but her futility got on his nerves. How could he marry someone with whom he had nothing in common? He missed Anne's intelligent humor, the way they discussed so many subjects that he didn't even notice the time passing. They didn't always agree on everything, but even in their disagreements they found a way to get along. Gilbert loved to see her eyes light up when he said she was wrong about a certain subject, it was a wonderful sight to behold. She tossed her long hair back, arched her eyebrow as if challenging him to prove what he had said, and her lips curved into a wry smile, giving him the clear impression that she would spend the next few minutes making him pay for his insolence.

Anne charmed him in different ways, her eloquent use of words surprised him. Gilbert had never met anyone who used "splendid and magnificent" in the same sentence and who sounded as perfect as Anne, and the way she made everything sound like an adventure left Gilbert completely wrapped up in her irreverence.

He knew he thought about her more than he should. In a single day, he mentioned her name so many times that it was impossible to count. Gilbert tried not to get carried away by memories of that collection of lovely freckles on her face, but he was always overcome by his growing fascination with her.

His own subconscious teased him, taunted him in his sleep, as it always brought red strands fluttering in the wind to his memories, while provocative lips excited his imagination lost in his dreams.

 It was forbidden for him to desire her, he knew, but Gilbert was no longer master of his own will when it came to Anne. He was in love with her, there was no point in trying to deny it, and he was going to marry another woman, torturing himself for not having the one he really wanted.

What a pity that Anne had come into his life late, because if he had met her earlier, everything would have been a real celebration, because having her around was like feeling spring in bloom, even when the cold winter snow left everything gray and lifeless. Anne was the warmth he needed inside him, which at that moment was extinguished by her absence. What would he do with that feeling that was oozing out of his pores, when he knew that his chances of it being reciprocated were zero?