by Ari Rhoge
“Yeah, and I need aspirin,” Lizzy said, wincing, and cupping a hand to her forehead. She closed her eyes for a moment, then glanced around the room. Everything was a mess. His blazer tossed over the armchair. Her heels kicked off at the foot of the bed. The tangled sheets and the discarded duvet. “Why did I let you stay with me?” she muttered to herself incredulously.
“Because you were pretty drunk. —— And because maybe you want this, too,” he said, simply.
“I don't!” she insisted, desperately. “I mean —— yes, you do have your rare redeeming moments — I'm a big enough person to acknowledge that. It surprised me. But, Darcy, when push comes to shove, I can't stand you.”
Darcy's face registered shock. Then he crossed his arms defiantly. “Not that convincing, given what just happened back there. You kissed me back. If it weren't for that TV, we would probably be—”
“If you finish that sentence, I will maim you.” Lizzy's face flushed scarlet. “We got carried away. It happens! I got really drunk at a party in sophomore year of college, and I almost made out with a sofa cushion. No, I did make out with a sofa cushion. I was tipsy. And you smelled nice. Really, really nice.”
“I don't believe this,” Will muttered, rubbing the side of his face. “Did you try to undress the sofa cushion as well?”
“Probably — I was pretty easy in college.”
“Elizabeth.”
“What do you want from me?” she whined, actually stomping her foot. “I said no. Please don't make me open this can of worms. I am fucking exhausted.”
“But you're seriously rejecting me right now?”
“Yes, I'm seriously rejecting you right now. Heaven forbid. Is this the first time?” Lizzy mock-gasped.
“Tell me why.”
“Fine! Fine… you know what? I will. Darcy, I couldn't possibly be with somebody as conceited and manipulative as you,” she admitted. He bristled, and Lizzy remained strong, fixing him with a level stare. “You're so goddamn arrogant. I knew it the moment we met. And your friends? Well. If those you love happen to disagree with you, you make their decisions for them anyway. You're controlling and proud and I don't like you.”
“I'm controlling? I'm suddenly manipulative?”
“Yes, you manipulate situations to get what you want.”
“I don't understand what you're talking about.”
“I'm talking about Jane,” Lizzy said, icily.
Darcy closed his mouth, taken aback. He hesitated for a moment. “You know.”
She looked at him reproachfully. “At least you're not denying it. Very big of you.” Lizzy's lip trembled, and she shook her head. “And, yeah, I realize maybe you didn't start it. I could spot Caroline Bingley's fingerprints on this from a mile away. But you sure as hell didn't stop her from separating them! You encouraged it. How the hell does a person do that, Will? Your own best friend!”
He stared at her critically. “Because I agreed with Caroline, for once. I needed to be honest with Charlie. It seemed clear to me that Jane didn't feel as strongly for him as he did for her.”
“Oh, I see. And you're some sort of scholar on judging the level of attachment in any given couple? Do people hire you for your expertise?”
Darcy rolled his eyes. “Charlie's judgment was impaired — and I acted as any good friend would—”
“He's not a child!”
“I did it for his own good!” Darcy insisted, angrily. “Do you know how many times I've sat on the sidelines watching girls break his heart? Charlie, the everlasting romantic, chasing after the one. There was only so much abuse I could see him take over the years. Even if they had stayed together, it would've ended up being drawn out and painful. I didn't want him to go through that.”
“Um, that wasn't your decision to make!”
“He asked me for my opinion, Elizabeth. That was my opinion. Jane would've broken his heart. She was detached. She pushed him away. It was even clearer to me after they had been separated.”
“Hey, dickhead, Jane was in love with him!” Lizzy cried, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. “What right do you have to make that kind of assumption? What the fuck do you know? Congratulations, Will. He broke her heart instead — that's so much better, isn't it?”
Will pressed his lips together, quiet now.
“God, you never give anybody a chance!” Elizabeth blinked back angry tears. “Jane's guarded — she didn't want to freak Charlie out. Jane keeps her feelings hidden because she's afraid of getting hurt.” Her voice grew quiet. “Much good that did.”
Darcy regarded her slowly. “I'm sorry to hear that,” he said, after a minute, his voice low. “I truly am. But you have to understand my reasoning here. You would have done the same, had you been in my position.”
“I would have done the same? I would have done the same,” Lizzy scoffed. “Don't presume that you know me, okay? God, I hate that about you. You think you know everything.”
“I do know you.”
He said it with such certainty, too.
Neither of them spoke for several seconds.
“Anything else?” Will asked, sarcastically. He was flushed now, scowling and hurt. She hated that she noticed. She hated that she cared.
“Yes, actually — there is. There is something else.”
“Well, by all means, you're on a roll tonight, aren't you? Let's hear it.”
“Oh, you will! I had my doubts about you, especially in light of what I've heard from Richard. But there's one person who's had your character pegged from the beginning. I want to hear your bullshit excuse for the way you treated Greg Wickham.”
Darcy laughed, abruptly. “Really. Greg Wickham. Greg Wickham? This is the conversation we're having right now?”
“He told me what you did to him. You took away what was rightfully his. You ruined his future.”
“Oh, did I? I ruined his future,” Will retorted, taking a step forward. “Nice to know you have your facts straight, Elizabeth. Maybe you and I would have gotten along better if I had been more like him, right? A smooth-talking, cheating liar? The guy's an asshole.” Lizzy opened her mouth to argue, but Darcy stopped her, shaking his head. “It's funny, I expected you to know better. You're too bright for that.”
“Fuck you. Don't patronize me.”
“Well, you're blind.”
“You expect me to believe you, then?”
“When have I lied to you?” Darcy demanded, searching her face. Lizzy couldn't quite take the intensity of his gaze. She felt a blushing heat creep up her neck and through her cheeks, and she looked down. At that moment, she hated him. Elizabeth hated him, and felt so much more than that. Everything she felt about Will Darcy was tangled into a knot, and she couldn't discern one emotion from the next.
“Lizzy,” Darcy tried again, his voice quiet this time. She felt his hands close loosely around her wrists. She closed her eyes.
“I think you should leave,” Lizzy said, softly.
“Fine.”
She stared at the floor while he got his things together, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She tried to keep herself from shaking. Darcy shrugged on his jacket, and got his cell phone and wallet from the nightstand. He paused in front of the door, shoulders squared and tense. Lizzy couldn't bring herself to look at his face. She felt sick.
“I hope you have a safe trip home,” Will said, quietly.
The door slammed shut behind him.
Once he was gone, Lizzy relaxed her shoulders, and exhaled properly. She slid down the wall until she sat cross-legged on the floor, jaded. A few minutes passed before she realized she was crying, had been crying since he left. Lizzy got up silently, and walked barefoot to the bathroom to wash her face.
15
—
God Knows You're Lonely Souls
Sleeping seemed nonsensical now — she couldn't if she tried. Lizzy watched the sunrise from the balcony, her bare legs propped up on the ledge. It was cool outside, and she wrapped her sweater tight
ly against her body every time the wind whipped around her and sent chills up her arms. She peered over the railing — the streets below were pretty empty. It was only seven o'clock. Checkout was in three hours.
Behind her, the luggage stood neatly by the door. Everything inside was impeccably folded and packed, and the black dress was back inside its garment bag. The bed had even been made.
Time had never dragged slower.
Lizzy ran her fingers through her hair, occasionally pulling out a forgotten bobby pin from the night before. Her mouth quirked up in a smile. How distant Charlotte's wedding seemed now. The newlyweds had most likely landed in Italy hours ago. She closed her eyes for a moment, reflective, but then Will Darcy's face sprang to mind — hurt, angry blue eyes.
She opened her eyes, and touched her mouth with her fingertips.
It was useless trying not to think about him. The night played like a film reel in her mind, no matter what she did, in bursts and flashes that made her chest constrict. Lizzy rested her head on the back of the chair, and stared miserably at the cloudless blue sky. It was going to be a beautiful day out.
Richard came to see her an hour and a half later, when she was standing over the sink, washing up. She let him in, her toothbrush sticking out of her mouth, and marched back into the bathroom. He leaned against the door frame and smiled impishly, wearing the same green dress shirt from last night. It was wrinkled now. Lizzy smirked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. She spat, and rinsed her mouth. “You're such a slut.”
“Thank you,” he said, shameless.
“Hand me that towel?”
Richard obliged her, tugging a violet towel from the shower door behind him. Lizzy took it from him, and caught his eye through the mirror's reflection. She stared at him. “What?”
“What's this look you've got going on?” Richard asked, giving her a brief once-over. He grinned, and she rolled her eyes. “Hobo chic, is it?”
“Shut up. I packed away everything else,” Elizabeth murmured, defensively, turning back to look at herself in the mirror.
She hadn't even been thinking about her appearance. After Darcy left, she changed out of the black cocktail dress as quickly as possible, partially because it was getting to be uncomfortable — but also because she could still smell him on her clothes, and she was frightened of liking it. But now Lizzy wandered around in a T-shirt, a long gray cardigan, boxer shorts, and woolly socks. Her long dark hair was messy with curls. It was her standard homebody look.
Richard was laughing at her, and she eyed him sharply. He raised his hands. “Hey, listen, I'm not one to talk — I'm in last night's clothes.”
“Yeah —— seriously!” Lizzy eyed him sharply, then let herself smile. “How was Red Dress?”
He shrugged, smirking. “I don't kiss and tell.”
“Oh, okay.” She snorted.
“But she was rubbish.”
Lizzy began to laugh, and shook her head. She caught him staring intently at her through the bathroom mirror. “You all right?”
Richard was smiling at her, as he often did, but something was weighing him down. He rubbed the back of his neck, and sighed. “I didn't just get here, you know. I drove back around six. Parked the car. Took the stairs to my room.” Richard hesitated. “Fine, I won't lie — I took the lift.”
“Not judging you,” she promised, turning around.
“I didn't think Will would be up by then,” Richard went on, gauging her reaction carefully. “But I'm obnoxious enough to try anyway, and I did. He was up, of course. Hadn't slept a wink all night. But, then again… I don't think you have either.”
Her smile disappeared. Lizzy said nothing, and turned back around, unzipping her bag aggressively. She tossed in the travel-size shampoo and conditioner, and moved on to the tissues. “I slept fine,” she said, breezily.
“Lizzy,” Richard tutted.
“Yeah?”
“Lizzy, look at me.”
“I'm busy.”
“Would you stop? C'mon. Turn around.”
“No.”
Richard chuckled, and stepped forward, putting his hand over hers. Lizzy dropped her shoulders, and sighed. He looked serious now — and both corners of his mouth tugged down into a grimace. She was annoyed to find the expression very familiar — he was Will's cousin, after all. “I won't talk about it if you don't want me to,” Richard promised.
“I don't want you to,” answered Elizabeth.
He chewed on his bottom lip. “But I will say this—”
“Richard.”
“No, no — hear me out! Will is really cut up about this,” Richard explained. “He's a little mental, I realize that. But… I've never seen him act like this. At least not over a girl. —— Excuse me, a woman. —— And I would totally give him grief about it if I hadn't met you first.” Lizzy glanced up at him, and Richard smiled. “But I have met you — and you're… well, you're perfect for him. There's something about you two.”
“No, there's not.”
“Yes, there is,” he said, patiently.
“Did he put you up to this?” Elizabeth demanded. She narrowed her eyes, skeptically. “Did he ask you to come talk to me?”
“God, no,” Richard said, shuddering. “You don't know him at all, do you? He'd punch my lights out if he knew I was here. And he's pretty strong, too. I know he's a bit on the wiry, slim side. But looks can be deceiving — I learned that the hard way.”
Lizzy turned back toward the sink. She glanced at her reflection, and hooked her hair behind her ears. “Listen, it's more complicated than you think it is.”
She heard him sigh behind her. “You should have told me about your sister. I didn't know.”
“I don't regret keeping my mouth shut. You wouldn't have told me what happened otherwise, right?” Lizzy looked sternly at him from over her shoulder.
He frowned, apologetically. “Probably not.”
Elizabeth shrugged, and muttered, “it's not like it's your fault.”
“But I am sorry that it happened this way. And, Lizzy, I'm sure he regrets it. I know it's not my place to say,” Richard said, calmly. “But people do make mistakes. You know as well as I do that he's not perfect.”
Elizabeth snorted, and crossed her arms over her chest again. She looked at him awhile. He was defending Darcy, and she was dead set against his reasoning. But Lizzy had to admit that she liked Richard all the more for his loyalty — he had a good heart.
“So, why are you here?” she asked, quietly. “To convince me that I belong with him or some other bullshit like that?”
“No, actually,” Richard said. “Well, maybe. But there's this, too.” He reached into the inside of his suit jacket, and retrieved a white envelope. “The guy went and wrote you a letter.” Lizzy opened her mouth, but no words came out. Richard half-smiled, and dropped the envelope onto the counter. “Don't make that face. Will was an English major before law school. And, yes, I tease him all the time.”
“I'm surprised, that's all.” Lizzy stared at the envelope. Her name was written on it, simply Lizzy, in penmanship that was a lot tidier and more elegant than hers was. “I don't want to read it. Please take it back with you, Rich.”
“Nope.” Richard clasped his hands behind his back, and took two steps backward. “It's out of my control now. You have no choice but to read it.”
“Fine — then, I'll just trash it.”
“No, you won't.” He smiled slyly at her. “I'm going to leave, and you're going to stare at it for 10 minutes — then curiosity will get the better of you. But, because you're fucking stubborn as anything, I expect you to toss it first. Then there will be subsequent garbage-digging immediately after. In this, I have complete and total confidence.”
Lizzy glowered at him. “I hate you.”
“You love me,” Richard insisted, grinning. “Read it. Please.”
She sighed, and hugged her arms. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
Lizzy chewed on her lower li
p, and leaned against the counter. “So, where is Darcy, anyway?”
“He left,” said Richard, hopping up to sit on the countertop, his long legs dangling off the edge. “A couple of hours ago. He told me he had to head back early because of a case he has to oversee on Monday morning — but I'm completely positive he had other reasons.” At this, he met her eye. “He was going to deliver that letter himself, but I stopped him. I said that it was too early, that you'd be sleeping.”
“Even though I wasn't,” Elizabeth muttered, rubbing her elbow.
“Yeah, well… you probably wouldn't have opened the door for him.”
“That's probably true.”
Richard sighed, and leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. “Lizzy, Will is in love with you,” he said, softly. Elizabeth started, and glanced up at him sharply, expecting his usual shit-eating grin. But Richard looked stone cold serious, and her stomach clenched anxiously in response. “And what's more,” Richard went on. “Is that he respects you. There are very few people in this world that he respects. I just want you to know that.”
Lizzy was shaking her head firmly. “Rich, there's so much you don't know about.”
“I know,” he said, sighing. “I know, I know. There's a ton of shit to wade through, and you both have some serious issues. Like, personality issues, because you're both dominant and stubborn — and, Jesus, hearing you guys argue about radio stations kind of makes me want to stab myself in the eye.” Richard paused to beam up at her. “But — what can I say — I'm a closeted romantic, and I'm still pulling for you two.”
“Well, don't,” Elizabeth said, crisply. “I can't stand the guy, okay? I hate him, and I hate what he's done. And whatever he's feeling was probably extinguished last night, so let's all just move on.”
“You don't hate him,” Richard repeated. “And I seriously doubt that.”
“I do, and you shouldn't.” Lizzy glowered at him. “Because I'm right.”
“You're not,” said Richard, shrugging.
“Yeah, I am.”
“No, you're not.”
“I am.”
