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Chapter Text

Anne Shirley sat upon the worn wooden bench under the old maple, whose autumn leaves now strewn across the yard, made piles of gold around the base. The afternoon was well advanced, as an overcast sun sprinkled threads of bright orange throughout the cozy familiar landscape of Green Gables. Everything seemed to be exactly as she remembered it-except, of course, that she was no longer the wild red-haired girl she once had been. Time had taken the harsh edges off her youth, but the memories, those bright, untamed remembrances of her childhood days, were still a part of her heart.

She had always wondered if she would ever come back to Avonlea as an adult. Years had whisked her away to other parts of the world-teaching in far-off lands, writing novels that had brought her a degree of fame, and settling into a life that often felt both expansive and lonely. But something about today felt different, as though the town was calling her back, tugging at the strings of her soul.

Anne sighed, looking at the old, ivy-clad house. The windows were still the same, and she could almost hear the echoes of Diana Barry's laughter coming from inside. Diana. She hadn't seen her best friend in nearly ten years. Their paths had diverged after Anne left for college, and despite a few letters exchanged in the early years, their connection had frayed with time.

But today was different. Diana was coming. They had made tentative plans to meet here, at Green Gables, where it had all started.

Anne's fingers fidgeted at the hem of her woolen sweater, her mind racing with memories. Diana had been her anchor in those early years, the one person who understood her quirks, her dreams, her outrageous imagination. They were two halves of a whole, united by a friendship that seemed unbreakable.

But life had a way of shifting people, changing them, and their bond had been tested by distance and time.

Anne glanced at the old path leading down to the main road, knowing that Diana would soon materialize there. Her heart fluttered with anticipation mixed with a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness. What would she be like now? Changed? Would their friendship still be the same?

The sound of footsteps crunching on the fallen leaves interrupted her thoughts, and Anne looked up. A figure was approaching-a tall, slender woman with dark hair now falling in waves over her shoulders. Her face was familiar, softened with time. It was Diana.

Anne stood up, her breath catching in her throat. Diana's eyes met hers, wide with recognition and a hint of disbelief. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the years between them stretching out like an invisible chasm.

"Diana," Anne said finally, her voice thick with emotion. "Is it really you?"

Diana smiled, a little hesitantly at first, but then the smile grew, lighting up her face in a way Anne had always known. "Anne, it's been too long," she replied softly, her voice steady but warm.

Anne took a few tentative steps forward, and before she knew it, they were standing face to face. A quiet tension lingered between them, but the familiarity of Diana’s presence soon melted it away. They embraced, the kind of hug that only the closest of friends can share—long, warm, and full of unspoken words.

When they drew apart, it was as if each of them had taken a deep breath in preparation for the storm of emotions that now came. 

"Can you believe we're here?" Diana exclaimed, eyes wide with wonder and disbelieving surprise as they took in the sight of Green Gables. "I never thought I'd see this place again. It feels like a lifetime."

"Tell me about it," Anne replied, a smile tugging at her lips. "I thought I'd forgotten what it felt like to be here. But now that I'm standing here again, it's like I'm eleven years old, running wild through the fields with you."

Diana chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, those were the days. Before everything got so complicated."

"Before we grew up," Anne added, her voice growing softer.

A short silence occurred as they both took in the gravity of that statement.

"Life's been. different," Diana said, her voice distant, a moment later. "I'm not that same girl you knew, Anne. I don't even know if I'm the person I was when you left."

Anne frowned at something deeper underlying Diana's tone. "What do you mean?"

Diana hesitated. "I've changed, Anne. I have had to. Life. it doesn't stop for anyone, not even for us. I thought I'd be content living in Avonlea, married, with kids, but it's not what I expected. And I think I lost a piece of myself in the process."

Anne nodded, her heart aching at the sadness she saw in her friend's eyes. "I understand," she said quietly. "I've changed too. And I don't always know who I am anymore."

The subject changed then, and for an hour, they strolled around Green Gables, reminiscing over the old days in childhood-about the haunted wood, the "I told you so" of Diana's dread moments, and how they used to make out to the woods by stealing away to read poetry together under the moon. Words flowed, the past real as if it had never left.

But as they walked through the fields, the conversation grew strained. Diana began to talk of her life in Avonlea—her marriage to Fred, her children, the quiet routine that had settled into her days. Anne spoke of her travels and writing career, of loneliness and longing for something more.

"Why didn't you tell me, Anne?" Diana said suddenly, her voice sharp. "About all the things you were doing? About how successful you became? I felt like you left me behind, and I didn't even know why."

Anne winced, her heart shriveling. "I never meant to leave you behind," she said in a soft tone, a pang of guilt settling in her chest. "I just. I couldn't stay in Avonlea. I had to leave. But that doesn't mean I forgot about you, Diana. You were always with me, even when I wasn't here."

Diana's eyes flashed with hurt. "It doesn't feel that way. You were out there, living your dream, and I was stuck here. I wanted to be part of your life, but it was like you erased me. I had no idea what was going on with you, what you were feeling."

Anne's face reddened. "I didn't know how to share it with you. You were building a life of your own, and I didn't want to burden you with mine. I thought maybe it would be easier that way."

"Easier for who?" Diana's voice cracked. "It's like we stopped being friends because our lives were different, and I couldn't keep up. You changed, Anne. And I. I couldn't keep up with you."

The words hung between them, painful and raw. Anne could see the hurt in Diana's eyes, the years of quiet resentment that had built up.

For a moment, neither spoke, the weight of the argument pressing heavily on their chests. The world around them felt still, as though it were holding its breath.

Anne finally broke the silence. "Diana, I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to feel left behind. I was just. lost. I thought I was doing the right thing by not asking for help, by not burdening you. But I see now that I should have been more present. I should have reached out."

Diana's face softened, but the hurt did not entirely leave her eyes. "I wish you had," she said quietly. "I missed you, Anne. More than I can say."

Anne's heart swelled with emotion as she reached out and took Diana's hand. "I missed you too. So much."

For a long moment, they stood there, holding hands, the past between them like a bridge that was being rebuilt. The weight of the years they had lost began to lift, and in its place, something new blossomed—small, fragile, but hopeful.

"I don't want us to be strangers," Anne said softly. "I want us to be friends again. I don't care how much time has passed. We can start over, if that's what it takes."

Diana nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'd like that. I'd really like that, Anne."

And so, despite the pain of the past, they began again.

Chapter Text

The next weeks were filled with long conversations and quiet walks, and the bond between Anne and Diana slowly mended. Not in an instant, but with time, they found their way back to each other. They laughed together, cried together, and shared their lives with each other in a way they hadn't in years. Their friendship wasn't what it once had been; deeper now, molded by the fire they had both lived through, but real, still powerful.

And as autumn turned to winter, Anne and Diana sat together on the porch of Green Gables, watching the snow fall softly around them. There were no more unsaid words between them, no more regrets. Just two friends, standing side by side, ready to face whatever the future held.

Together.