Everyone cried on Meredith’s last day at the estate. In fact, it would be fair to say that the whole day was dedicated to mourning Meredith’s departure. Anthony cried, too, but not in front of anyone else; not even with Meredith.
It was quite a scene. Everyone had lined up in front of the house making various wailing, sobbing, and sniffling noises.
Even Fletcher encountered some difficulty wishing her farewell. Mrs. Oakley had wiped away a small tear as Meredith gave Philippa a tight hug.
Since Kenneth wanted to be—or at least claimed that he wanted to be—back in town for the Little Season, he too, was leaving that day. But needless to say, his goodbyes to everyone were not nearly as emotional as Meredith’s.
At last, she came to Anthony and Cecilia.
As Meredith knelt down, Cecilia practically leapt into her arms and tearfully whispered something in her ear. They maintained the embrace for a while.
Anthony deliberately avoided listening to their hushed conversation; he believed that eavesdropping during such a precious moment would be a violation of their privacy. At length, Cecilia released Meredith, who stood up and straightened the skirt of her gown.
Anthony remembered how he had almost lost his composure when it was his turn to say goodbye. He almost broke down and begged her to stay one more time.
I wonder what would have happened if I did? Would she have stayed if I had asked her to, just once more?
It was a pointless question. Even now, he had no doubt that she still would’ve left. She felt very strongly that sheneededto.
He returned to the daydream once more.
She stood in front of him, with her eyes and cheeks red and puffy from all of the crying. The gentle light from the setting afternoon sun, which Anthony had always though suited her exceptionally well, made her red hair shine as though her whole head were ablaze.
If he weren’t so devastated, he would have laughed. Not because he found her appearance humorous, but because the butterflies in his stomach were tickling him once again.
Neither of them moved. Anthony knew that once either of them said something or did something, it would mean the beginning of the goodbye. He wanted to prolong this moment for as long as possible.
If only the sun wouldn’t set, if only she didn’t have to leave. If she could just stand there, if only he could just stand here and be with her. If only the world could just… stop.
He briefly gazed heavenward once more to silently make that request. But that was a mistake, for by doing so, he broke the moment. His movement had inadvertently started the goodbye.
“What are you looking at, Anthony?” she had asked as she, too, looked at the sky.
“It’s nothing.”
He wanted to restore the moment to go back to just standing. But it was too late, he had shattered it. There was no going back to it now, there was only moving forward. Or at least, she was the one moving the painful process forward whilst metaphorically dragging him along as he metaphorically objected.
“Anthony, I…”
He remembered how his heart skipped several beats in anticipation of what she was going to say. He had only explicitly saidI love youonce—during the proposal.
And now she seemed ready to say it back, or was she? She seemed unsure. And maybe it was the fact that this was an especially emotional day, or the fact that there were almost two dozen servants plus Cecilia and Kenneth all staring at her, but Meredith appeared to be struggling to reach the end of her sentence.
So Anthony took her hand as a way to assure her that he had heard her even if she hadn’t said it out loud. The butterflies in his stomach were calling for one more taste of her lips, but that would be quite awkward to do with Cecilia and everyone else staring, so he instead settled for giving her a hug.
As the soapy scent of her skin and hair flooded his nostrils, the butterflies danced and somersaulted. Anthony silently rebuked them, reminding them of the painful detail that like the rest of all good things, this hug would soon come to an end.
As a form of retaliation, the butterflies briefly took control of his lips and before he knew what was happening, his lips were firmly planted on Meredith’s forehead. He almost went blind from the bright red flames that had suddenly appeared in front of his eyes. They turned out to be her hair.
After wrestling with the butterflies, he just about managed to tear himself away from her.
With his voice hoarse from emotion, he said, “Meredith, you know that I’m not— I’m not very good at handling these kinds of situations.” He cleared his throat, “So I’ve written it all down here.”
His hands were significantly shakier than he wanted them to be, but at least he was able to successfully give her the note.
“Thank you, Anthony. Goodbye.”
“I’ll see you soon, right?”
