by Krista Lakes
I slammed the front door hard enough to make the walls shake. “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” I told her. I vibrated with an uncontrolled fury that I was afraid I was going to unleash on her. “Go to your yoga class.”
Frustration filled Jane’s face at not being able to help me. “You pull us out of a fancy restaurant and fume the whole way home,” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders. “Come on, talk to me. Maybe I can help.”
I shrugged her hands away. “You can’t help,” I told her, doing my best not to sound cruel. “And I don’t want to tell you because it will just make things worse.”
“That’s exactly why you should tell me,” Jane reasoned.
“Go to the gym. You have your yoga class that you love,” I replied. She didn’t move, so I sighed. “I’ll tell you when you get home, okay? I just need to cool down a little bit first.”
“Are you mad at me?” Jane asked, her big eyes concerned.
“Oh, no, Jane!” I shook my head hard. “Just the opposite.”
Jane chewed on her cheek for a moment before going to her room and grabbing her gym bag with her yoga gear.
“I want you to promise you’ll tell me when I get back,” Jane said.
“I will,” I replied, making an X across my chest as promise. Jane still looked torn about leaving me alone.
“Oh, good. You guys are home,” Lydia announced, coming into the living room. “Hey, Lizzie, can I borrow a couple of hundred dollars?”
“What?” I felt like I was living in crazy town today.
“It’s not a good time to ask, Lydia,” Jane cautioned.
“Why in the world do you need money?” I asked Lydia.
“Wickham found out about this party where a bunch of famous photographers will be at,” she explained. “I said I could cover the cost of admission.”
“Lydia!” I rubbed my temples. This was the last thing I wanted to deal with right now. “What did you tell him? You don’t have any money!”
“I told him I had some inheritance money,” Lydia replied with a shrug. “Listen, it’s not a big deal. This was just an opportunity I thought I should take.”
“I don’t care about the photo thing.” I took a deep breath. “I care about you lying to Wickham that you have money!”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Just go with it. I’ll get more parts if I say I can afford not to get them. Understand?”
“No, no I don’t understand.” My head was ready to explode.
“You know what, I’ll lend you the money.” Jane went and put her arm around Lydia, saving her from me. “Lizzie’s having a rough day, so just tell me about this amazing opportunity you found on the way to the gym.”
“Okay, Jane.” Lydia grinned at her.
“Grab your stuff, and we’ll head out,” Jane told her. “And remember an umbrella. It’s starting to rain.”
I watched as Lydia grabbed her gym bag by the front door and the proceeded to take my umbrella. I didn’t have the energy to yell at her. I knew if I did, I would just end up exploding at my sister. I didn’t want to take my frustration out on her. She didn’t deserve the level of rage I was currently holding back.
“So, this is the real deal,” Lydia told Jane as they went out into the hallway. “I’m so excited.”
Their voices disappeared as I shut the door behind them. I pressed my forehead against the wood of the door, feeling the cool grain against my skin. Everything felt hot.
The world was spinning too fast for me to hold onto. I prided myself on being able to think on my feet. It was a critical skill for me to have as a nurse, but right now I couldn’t do it. Mr. Darcy had me dizzy and off balance.
I knew that if he walked in right now and kissed me, I’d melt. I’d fall into that kiss all over again. My sanity and all decision making abilities were gone when it came to him. I didn’t know why, but he had this effect on me that I couldn’t deny.
I hated him for it. I hated that I wasn’t in control of my emotions or libido when he was around. I hated that even after learning all the awful things he’d done, I still wanted to crawl into his bed and have his hands touch me again.
I stood in the middle of my living room, hating Mr. Darcy and hating myself. I wasn’t quite sure who I hated more at that particular moment.
I couldn’t stay here. All I wanted to do was hit things, and I knew that neither Jane nor Lydia would appreciate me breaking up the house. So, I grabbed my raincoat since Lydia had my umbrella, and headed out to walk. I would walk to the park and burn off the angry energy so I could think. It sounded like a good plan in my head.
Outside the rain came down in sheets. Cold, wet, and gray were the only adjectives to describe the world, and I was okay with that. It matched my mood: miserable. I knew the rain would probably turn to snow sometime tonight. Maybe a fresh coat of white would make the world look bright again.
I let myself wander the city instead of going to the park. The park had too much beauty, and I wanted the raw gray buildings. I looked inside the various glass windows to see happy people drinking and eating. I watched as they smiled as they made their purchases and I let myself envy them.
They didn’t have to deal with Mr. Darcy.
I walked along the barren sidewalks, enjoying the emptiness of the city. The usual crowds were tucked safely inside as I stomped my way through the rain. No one bothered me because there was no one outside to bother.
Until I heard my name.
“Elizabeth.”
I froze at his voice, my traitorous body already warming at his call.
He ran across the street to get to me, rain dripping out of his dark hair. He didn’t have an umbrella or even a coat. All he wore was his expensive suit jacket, which I was sure was now ruined.
“Elizabeth,” he repeated as he closed the distance between us. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
He kissed me, sending glorious heat radiating through every nerve and making my knees go weak. It was everything I remembered in his touch and more. Anger managed to burn through the heat of his touch, igniting me in a different way. I pushed him away, suddenly hot with wrath.
“You didn’t call,” I spat out, wiping my hand across my mouth. My hood had fallen off during the kiss, and now my hair dripped with the cold rain.
“I needed to see you,” he replied. “I wanted to tell you in person.”
I crossed my arms, now angry, cold, and wet. My hands were damp now from pushing him, and the cold was biting. I had no idea how he was standing in the pouring rain and not shivering.
“Come here,” he said, stepping under the awning of the closest shop. It was the coffee place we’d met at accidentally the other day. Inside people waited in line for hot coffee. It was busy on this cold, wet night.
“What do you want?” I asked, joining him, but keeping my distance. It was nice not to be directly in the rain.
“This isn’t how I planned it.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, sending droplets of water flying.
I sighed with annoyance and stepped away to go back to the rain, but he caught my elbow and pulled me back under the awning.
“I know you aren’t wealthy, that you have no idea what it takes to be a part of my world,” he told me. “I know I could have anyone. Any supermodel, heiress, or actress. I could have women more beautiful and accomplished than you in a heartbeat.”
I just stared at him, unsure of why I was being insulted. Apparently, I wasn’t beautiful or accomplished.
He swallowed hard and set his shoulders. “But I don’t want them. I want you,” he said. It wasn’t soft or kind. It sounded more like he was giving me a job I didn’t really deserve. “I don’t know why, but I want you.”
“What?” I asked, pushing some wet hair out of my face. Inside the coffee shop, I could see a couple of patrons looking at the two crazy people talking outside in the rain. “What do you want me for?”
“I’m willing to take the risk that you may ju
st be after my money,” he continued. “My family will disapprove, but for the first time in my life, I don’t care.”
“I don’t understand,” I told him, completely lost.
He fixed his serious blue eyes on me. “I love you.”
If someone had told me the sky was made of lemon meringue pie, I would have believed them over what I just heard Mr. Darcy said.
“Is this a joke?” I asked him. “Are you serious?”
“Very serious,” he said softly. He took a step forward and put his hands on my shoulders, peering into my face with unjustified hope. “Please, say that you feel something for me, too.”
I pulled back from his touch. “Oh, I feel something, but it is very far from love.”
Confusion and something that might even be mistaken for hurt crossed his face, but I knew better than that. He had to be playing some sort of game with me.
“You honestly think that this was the way to tell me you love me?” I asked. I wasn’t cold anymore. I was livid.
“This wasn’t what I planned,” he said looking around at the rain. “This isn’t how I planned to tell you.”
“No, not the rain,” I corrected. “‘I can have anyone. Any supermodel, heiress, or actress. I could have women more beautiful and accomplished than you in a heartbeat,’” I repeated, mocking his accent. I felt like I was getting pretty good at it by now.
He opened his mouth but didn’t say anything.
“That’s not how you tell someone that you care about them,” I told him. My voice was raising without me meaning to, and people inside the coffee shop were now looking out at the two of us. I consciously took a breath to try and keep my cool. It wasn’t working very well. “That’s how you tell people that you don’t want them.”
“Elizabeth...”
“No, that’s not even the half of it.” I was mad now. Steam should have been coming off my wet hair I was so hot. “You didn’t call. You didn’t even bother saying goodbye the other night. Who does that?”
He managed to look slightly chagrined. “It was important business,” he replied. “It couldn’t wait.”
“Right. And it’s been so pressing that you couldn’t pick up the phone for two days?” I asked. “Your phone doesn’t have texting ability? You somehow lost the knowledge of how to use a piece of paper and write a note?”
He took a step back.
“You’re right,” he admitted. “That was impolite of me.”
“Impolite?” I barked an incredulous laugh. “Impolite is using the wrong fork at dinner. You slept with me and didn’t have the decency to say a word after. You just left.”
“I had business.” He crossed his arms. “Anything else?”
His haughty arrogance at being called out pissed me off. This was the time to apologize. To tell me that he was incredibly sorry and that it would never happen again. But he wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t do that. He was a smug, rich, asshole who somehow thought this was what love looked like.
“Yes, yes I actually do,” I told him. “You destroyed my sister.”
“What?” He managed to sound surprised.
“You told Charles that Jane wasn’t interested in him,” I said, keeping my voice low for Jane’s sake. “She’s heartbroken. I know that you said something to him. You want to deny it?”
“No,” he replied. “I don’t. She didn’t want him. It was obvious.”
“Oh my god.” I nearly turned and walked right then, but I had to understand how he could do such a terrible thing. “Why in the world would you think that?”
“The pictures from the club,” he replied. “She’s leaning away from him in every one. She looks like she’s about to be sick just being there with him. Her body language was unmistakable.”
“No, her body language was that she hates crowds,” I corrected. “She hates going out to public places, but she was there at that club because he asked her. She did it to make him happy.”
“She certainly could have fooled me,” he snapped back.
“Obviously she did.” I was out of control with anger. “And the fact that you called her a gold-digger?”
“I wasn’t wrong,” he replied. “He has money, and she wants it.”
“You are incredibly wrong,” I informed him. “Just because he has more money than she does, does not mean she wanted his.”
Anger flickered in his blue eyes. “I saw how she looked at those art pieces at the auction,” he growled. “She wanted them, and using him was the easiest way to get them. She wanted his money.”
“She wanted them because she loves art,” I yelled at him. “It’s her entire world. If you had actually watched the two of them for three seconds, you’d see that they both wanted those paintings!”
I was breathing hard now, but I wasn’t done.
“And what about Wickham?” I asked.
The flicker of anger turned to a full flame in his eyes. “What about him?”
“You ruined him,” I snarled. “You stole his inheritance. You wanted to keep your precious business all to yourself, and you stole his rightful share from him. Just like you stole Charles from Jane. You don’t care about anyone but yourself! You’re nothing but a selfish pig!”
Mr. Darcy took a step back, staggering as if I’d struck him. He stared at me for a moment. “So that’s what you think?”
“Yes.” I raised my chin defiantly. I knew I could make this less painful. I knew that I could be kind and docile, but I didn’t want to be. I felt spiteful and full of vengeance. “From the moment I met you, you’ve been arrogant, elitist, and uncaring of anyone. I couldn’t love you, even if I tried. You’re money’s not even worth that.”
He blinked twice as rainwater ran down his hair and into his face. He looked away and back to me. I made sure to stand strong. I wasn’t backing down. He deserved this and so much worse.
I met his gaze, but his eyes were guarded now. The loss of their openness hurt more than I expected, especially when paired with a twinge of guilt for being so cruel in my delivery. I wasn’t about to back down, though.
“I apologize,” he said softly. “Excuse me for interrupting your evening. I won’t bother you again.”
He looked me over as if memorizing my face for one last time before disappearing into the dark of the rainy street.
My shoulders heaved as if I had just run a mile rather than just standing there. I looked over to see faces in the window watching us. The entire coffee shop was staring at us. One industrious man was even recording our argument. I wondered how many hits on YouTube I would get for this.
I considered storming in there and slamming his phone into the ground, and while satisfying, it would be a waste of time. It was probably already uploaded.
Besides, it wouldn’t matter anyway. Mr. Darcy and I were through, even though we’d never even really began. If we had been in some sort of relationship, it was over now.
Something inside me ached. The adrenaline was wearing off, and my anger was cooling. I shivered and pulled up my hood. I didn’t have that white-hot rage powering me anymore, and I was cold inside and out.
I walked out into the rain, more confused than when I’d started walking. Only now, I also wasn’t sure if my face was wet with tears or rain.
Chapter 14
“Are you okay, Liz?”
I startled and looked up to see one of the CICU night nurses standing in front of me. Her hand rested on my shoulder, and she looked concerned.
“What?” I shook myself, still lost in thought.
“You’re only half dressed, and your shift ended twenty minutes ago,” she said gently. “Are you okay?”
I looked around the changing area. I was still in the CICU locker room after my shift. I’d managed to put on jeans, but I still wore my scrub top. I’d been sitting on a changing bench with my blue scrub pants in my hands staring into nothingness.
“Oh.” I did my best to smile and shake my head like it was nothing. “Just a lot on my mind.”
&nbs
p; “Okay.” My co-worker paused and took a careful breath. “I saw the video. If you need someone to talk to, just let me know. Men suck.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
“Okay. Have a good night,” she said, heading back out of the locker room. I stared at the closed door behind her, hating and loving the silence of the changing area. The video of Mr. Darcy and I arguing had gone viral, as a woman screaming at a billionaire was likely to do. Luckily, it was hard to make out what we were saying, so most people just thought I was nuts. I just hoped that some new cute cat video would come along and save me from my misery.
I finished getting dressed and headed out of the hospital and to the subway. The train ride home was uneventful, which was good since I was on autopilot anyway. Today, I was just the sad, lonely woman on the train. Nothing strange about that in New York City.
I headed out of the subway to find the night sky dark. Or as dark as it could be this far in the city. I found myself wishing for stars if only to make a wish, but they were all drowned out by the bright city lights.
“Ms. Elizabeth Bennet?” A voice called out from my building as I approached. I paused, reaching for my pepper spray.
“Yes?”
“I have a letter for you.” A man with a bike helmet reached into his satchel and pulled out an envelope. I could clearly read the lettering on his bike messenger uniform as he handed me the letter and then rode off to deliver his next package.
I watched him for a moment before looking down at the letter. I’d never had anything delivered by bike messenger before and didn’t know who would send me something like this. All that was on the envelope was my name in a tight, neat script.
I headed inside and tapped the button for the elevator. Luckily, I was the only person riding up tonight, so I was able to open the envelope by myself. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but given the way my week had gone, I didn’t want an audience for anything right now.
I pulled out a neatly typed letter with an Oceania Airlines symbol emblazoned on the top. I nearly dropped it.
