Chapter 18
The obstetrician told Jane that her sickness would improve once the first trimester of pregnancy was over but there were still occasions when she woke up with an unavoidable need to throw up. Today was one of those days. Fortunately, it was Saturday, she didn't have to work and there was no risk that that situation would happen when she was in the tube or on the way to the studios. Patiently, Jane sat on a stool in front of the toilet until her nausea was over and then she walked wearily towards the kitchen to make herself some tea with toast to help her recover her energy.
But it was not the sickness or the tiredness that was making her feel so bad, it was the loneliness she had to face every day. She was missing Elizabeth's friendship so much. She missed her company and their long chats on those lazy Sunday afternoons. Though, if there was someone to blame for this silly rift that existed between them, it was herself. She knew now that she should have told Elizabeth about what was being said about her from the beginning, though she was sure that that would have affected their friendship too. She only hoped that Elizabeth would be able to forgive her someday.
A long, deep sigh mingled with the low whistling of the kettle. Her hand was drawing circular movements over her belly and worry and sorrow turned her thoughts to the baby that was inside of her. What was going to happen with her child? Charles never called back and now she would never know if he ever cared about her or if he would accept this baby or not. Her family wasn't informed yet about this and she didn't know how she was going to raise it on her own. But what really was making her so sad was that she was still in love with Charles. She couldn't forget about his charming smile, his deep blue eyes, and that sweetness mingled with recklessness that made him the most adorable big boy that she had ever seen.
Tears of longing blurred her vision. She missed him, she loved him and she needed him. She needed his tenderness, his jokes, his seduction and his protectiveness. She needed him as a man, as a companion and as the father of her child. She just needed him.
The doorbell rang and she dried her tears. She looked down at herself and frowned. Gray jogging pants, a T-shirt that was too tight at the belly and tennis shoes. Who cared about her appearance anyway? It was probably the mail or something.
"Yes?" Jane opened the door.
"Miss Jane Benedict?"
With no little surprise she looked at the young messenger carrying a huge bunch of pink roses standing in front of her. "Yes."
"These are for you, madam." The boy grinned.
Jane looked around the bunch for a card. She didn't find any. "But, who is sending this?"
"I am." Charles stepped in front of the door.
Jane was speechless. She stood there, looking at him as if she had seen a ghost. "Charles!" She whispered.
For almost a minute, neither moved. Jane was rooted to the ground, Charles was measuring her reaction and the boy was expecting a sign from either one. The boy cleared his throat and called them out of their daze.
"Oh, yes," Jane extended her hands and took the roses from his arms.
Charles pulled a one hundred dollar bill from his pocket and told the boy to leave. "And don't tell anyone you saw me, all right?"
"Yes, sir," the boy was sporting a huge grin. "Good day, miss."
Jane was still standing under the threshold, looking at the movie star, unable to move.
"Hi, Jane." Charles ventured to speak.
"Hi," she replied.
"Can I come in?"
"Oh, yes, sure, of course, come in." She turned and walked into the small apartment, her heart pounding and her hands shaking. "I'm going to put these in water."
Charles followed her to the kitchen.
"So, what brings you here?" Jane tried to sound casual as she put the roses inside a jar.
"You." He was standing right behind her.
Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach fluttered in such a way that she was afraid she would get sick.
"Jane," Charles put his hands on her shoulders, "I know you've been trying to reach me. I want you to know that I only received your message five days ago."
The moment she felt his hands on her she felt her breath faltering. Her mind was in such turmoil that she didn't know if she was happy with the knowledge that he didn't get her message or disappointed because he didn't come back on his own.
The actor stroked her arms up and down, very gently. He took a deep breath and turned her around so he could see her face. "I know you are pregnant, I ..."
His words pulled a trigger inside of her and her nervousness turned into anger. She pushed him away and walked hastily out of the kitchen. "Is that the only reason why you came? To see if this child is yours or not?"
"Jane!" Charles followed her. "I'm here because I love you!"
"Don't lie to me!" She yelled. "You left me four months ago and now that you know I'm pregnant you are coming back?"
"Janie, sweetheart," he tried to calm her. "It's true, I know that what I did was completely wrong, but there was no other thing I could do, I had a plane to catch ..."
"Oh, please!" She cried as all the anguish she had been holding back surfaced. "You shagged me all night long and you left without saying goodbye! You didn't even call me afterwards! How could you say that you love me?"
"Yes, I love you!" Charles raised his voice, "I didn't know what to do that morning. I ... I thought you would hate me for doing that, that you would think I took advantage ..."
"And that's exactly what you did!" Furious tears filled her eyes. "You left, Charles! You got me drunk, you shagged me all night long and you left!"
"I'm sorry, Jane, but I don't know how to fix this! If there is a way that I could make it up to you, be sure that I would," Charles walked to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. "That morning, when I woke up and saw you sleeping, I realized my mistake." He saw her eyes widening the moment he pronounced that phrase. "No, please, listen. You were not a mistake. My mistake was to make love to you the way I did, get you drunk and taking you to my room. You deserved better than that. Janie," His voice turned soft and gentle, "I realized that I loved you and that I had treated you unfairly and I was afraid that you would hate me for that."
"But you left." Her voice was cold. "You treated me like a hooker, Charles."
Charles sighed in frustration and looked down. "I know. I know it's not an excuse, but I had to leave and my head was aching so much that I couldn't think clearly. I wrote you that stupid note and then I realized that it would only make you hate me even more."
"You left me a note?" she whispered.
"I know that that was not the right thing to do, but I was going to miss the fucking plane and someone was knocking at the door and ..."
"What did it say?" she asked in a soft, hopeful voice.
"I can't remember exactly," the actor continued. "I was so ashamed, so confused. I said I'm sorry for doing what I did and then asked you call me if you forgave me ..." Charles frowned, "... didn't you see it?"
Jane shook her head.
"Oh, God, Jane, this is all wrong," he sighed. Only then he realized how humiliated she might have felt that morning and her suffering during all these months she had been trying unsuccessfully to contact him. "I'm sorry, I should have called you afterwards, I should have thought that you wouldn't see it. That would have been the right thing to do, but I didn't. I was so afraid that you would refuse me that I didn't. Please, forgive me."
She was so moved that she couldn't speak. Suddenly, everything was all right, he was back, he loved her and she dared to hope again.
Charles took her face in his hands and made her look at him. "I love you, Jane, I want to make this right, for you, for us. Please let me. I don't know what happened to that note, but I left it and ..."
"Well, the window was open," she said with a smile.
He grinned broadly, and the relief and adoration that washed his features made her heart flutter. "I love you, Janie, I really do."
Charles leaned down and brushed her lips with his. The kiss was soft and tentative and he only increased the intensity when he was sure she was accepting it. He was kissing the woman he loved, the mother of his child and it felt as if this were the first time he had ever kissed her, that he ever touched her. He had no memories of their previous encounter and he doubted she had them either so this made it more special. Slowly, with the greatest tenderness, they both discovered the other's taste and shape, how it felt to touch and kiss and hold the person they loved.
Jane let herself go in his arms and mixed emotions overcame her. Joy that he was finally back and fear about what the future would bring. No matter how much she loved him, she knew who he was, his past and what he was capable of. This was Charles Bingley, the most rakish man on earth (after Di Caprio) and she didn't know how long it would this last, when he would hurt her again or if she would be able to compete with the dozens of girls that were lining up at his door. But she also knew that she fell in love with a celebrity and that she would have to learn how to deal with that.
He left her lips and tightened his hold around her body. "You don't know how much I missed you."
She rubbed his back and snuggled in his arms. "I missed you too."
Charles lifted his head and looked into her eyes. He saw longing and hurt. "I'm so sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you."
A new rush of insecurity made her look down.
"Jane, what's wrong?"
She pulled herself out of his embrace. "It's just that I don't know if this is going to work."
Charles swallowed visibly and fear became evident in his eyes. "Why?"
"You are you, Charles. I don't know how long this is going to last."
That was the truth and it hurt. "My reputation precedes me, correct?"
Jane dared to glance in his direction and saw his sorrow. "Yes. You already left me once."
"I don't expect you to believe me, I know that I'll have to prove to you that I'm trustworthy, but I have changed, Jane, you made me change."
She was looking at her hands when she asked her next question. "What happened between you and Caroline?"
Charles sighed heavily. "Nothing happened between us. We're just friends."
"That's what you told the reporter, but I know what that means." She didn't dare to raise her eyes because she was afraid that what she saw would confirm her fears.
"Janie," he tilted his head to look at her but she turned her face away, "this is how it works. No matter what my reply is, they'll always say I'm having an affair with the girl that's standing next to me, even if I don't know who she is. In this case, our agents suggested the entire thing to obtain more publicity. We only showed up together at a party and the rumor started by itself."
"But I saw it on TV," she sniffed.
"Did you see something that bothered you?"
Everything about that bothered her. It bothered that they were standing so close, how they smiled to each other, how glamorous they looked and how he placed his hand on the small of her back as they walked. "No, but you looked so..."
"So?" He asked softly.
So in love, she was about to say, but she knew that was not true. "You looked as if you cared for each other." She pouted.
"It's just promotion. When you have one hundred cameras pointing at you, you must pretend that you are enjoying it. You know how it is between Caroline and me, you saw us in Africa."
"I also heard comments about you two."
"Janie," Charles lifted her chin so he could see her, "don't believe everything you hear about me. Not everything is true."
That meant that some things were true and some weren't. Trying to find about his past sins was ridiculous at this point and it would only end ruining what they had now. If she didn't give him the chance to redeem himself for his past mistakes, they were never going to make it. He was here, she needed him and she desperately wanted to believe him. Time would tell if she was wrong or not, but now, here, this was what she wanted.
"Oh, Charles," she crushed her body against his chest, "I love you so much, please don't hurt me again."
Charles was overwhelmed by her tears. Jane was indeed his angel, the sweetest, most forgiving creature on earth. She was embracing him so tightly, she was sobbing so loudly and she was shaking so much that he didn't know how to comfort her. The only thing he could do was hold her and rock her until she calmed down.
"I promise I won't. Please don't cry, sweetheart, please don't."
Jane slowly calmed down and Charles raised her face to his. He kissed her mouth and tasted the salty sorrow of her cheeks. His own anguish overcame him, his kisses turned hungry, desperate and for a moment, he forgot that this woman, his woman, was pregnant and that he should treat her with the greatest tenderness and love he could bestow. His kisses turned softer, more tender and when he raised his head, he was smiling.
"Is this my baby?" He lowered his hand to her abdomen. He was so happy and moved and overwhelmed by all this that he couldn't stop himself from grinning stupidly.
Jane chuckled and sniffed and wiped her eyes at the same time. "Yes."
He looked down, almost shyly, and spread his fingers so he could touch all of it. "Kicks?"
"Not yet."
Mesmerized, he traced the round shape of her belly popping under the T-shirt with his fingers. He looked up at her and she giggled, enchanted by having him there, with her.
"You are beautiful, do you know that?"
"I know I'm not," she blushed at the compliment. "I'm pale, my hair is a mess and my pants are stained with bleach."
He chuckled, she was right but he wouldn't have it any other way. Very gently, his fingers combed her hair behind her ear. "You are pale indeed, are you feeling all right?"
"I spent half of the morning sitting in front of the toilet. I guess that throwing up for nearly ten minutes will not make anyone look well."
Charles frowned instantly. "I'm sorry I made you face all this on your own. Had I known..."
"But, you're here now," Jane touched his face. "That's what counts."
Gently, he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her closer. Jane sighed and rested her body against his. Something about having this man, this super important movie star in her house was making her feel completely awkward. Though this was the man she loved, the father of her child to be, they were practically strangers and she was still trying to assimilate the changes that were happening. Smiling nervously, she escaped his embrace and walked towards the kitchen.
"Do you want some coffee? I was about to drink some tea when you came."
"Sure." Charles walked after her.
"And, how long are you staying in London?" She put the kettle on the stove.
He stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders, massaging them gently as his lips kissed her cheek and neck. "For as long as you will have me."
Jane turned her head to look at him. "Really?"
Charles grinned seductively. "My bag is outside."
She raised a skeptical eyebrow. Charles laughed and went to the front door, retrieving the bag he had left outside.
"It's true!" She laughed.
He left the bag on the floor and placed his hands on her waist. "I'm not planning to leave you ever again."
"No?" She asked as he leaned down.
"No."
The kiss he gave her left her in no doubt of what his intentions were. He wanted to make love to her, and he made it obvious in every caress. He kissed her with total abandon, holding her against his chest, discovering curves and mounds and flavors he had never felt.
"I love you, Jane." His mouth left her lips and traced an imaginary line from her ear to her neck.
"The ... water is boiling." Jane said breathlessly.
"I don't want any coffee." He lips brushed her throat with every word.
"Neither do I." She wrapped her arms around his neck.
His lips searched hers for a wild, hungry kiss. His hands pulled her against his body, sliding inside the back of her T-shirt. Jane was melting in his arms. She was un-tucking his shirt from inside his trousers when the whistling of the kettle called her out of her daze. Without parting from his lips, she murmured an 'I'll be right back' and rushed towards the kitchen to turn off the stove. Charles remained in the living room, trying to control his breathing, and most of all, trying to rein his desire and slow down. He knew he had to do this slowly, but he just couldn't hold back. Months of abstinence, of lack of desire and now that he had her in front of him, it was almost impossible to control his love and lust and need of her.
She came back and stood in front of him, leaning her hands on his chest. Smiling, Charles raised one hand to her hair and played with a golden strand.
"Are you sure this is not dangerous for you or for the baby or...?"
Jane shook her head and that was enough to ease his worries. He kissed her again and this time they walked the route of love, knowing that from now on, they would never be apart.
"Lizzy!" Amanda rushed towards the door. "You're back!"
Elizabeth smiled and put her backpack on the floor. "Hi, mom."
Mother and daughter joined in a tight embrace. "Lizzy, you gained some weight, what did you eat in France?"
"Those croissants are so delicious that I just couldn't avoid them." She linked her arm with her mother's and walked towards the couch.
"Hi, Lizzy."
"Hi, Lydia." Elizabeth replied. "So you failed grammar."
Lydia frowned. "What? You came back from France only to tell me that stupidity?"
Elizabeth laughed. "No, to give you something I bought for you. I was planning to give it to you only if you obtained good grades but ..."
"Where is it?" Lydia said enthusiastically.
"Bring me the backpack and I'll give it to you."
Lydia fled to fetch it and was opening the zippers on the way back.
"Lizzy, when are you leaving for aunt Maddy's?" Amanda asked tentatively.
"She's expecting me tomorrow night."
"Oh," so her daughter was staying only one day, Amanda sighed in resignation. "At least you'll be in Sheffield. I can go and visit you whenever I want."
"Of course, mother." Elizabeth smiled. "Any calls?"
"Jane called you the other day, wanting to know when you were coming back. I told her I didn't know."
Elizabeth sighed. Jane. She didn't know why, but she wasn't able to let go of that either. "All right," She turned towards the backpack and pulled out a pair of T-shirts. "Here Liddy," she handed them to her sister, "I hope they are the right size."
"They are just fantastic!" Lydia said enthusiastically.
"I'm glad you like them." She glanced at her mother, who was failing miserably in disguising her anguish. "I'm going to take a shower."
"Stop that!" Jane giggled. "You are tickling me!"
"Will you stay still?" Charles brushed the curve of the side of her body with his fingertips, from the side of her breast to her hip. He just loved to see how her skin tingled and how her nipples hardened every time he did it.
"Can I move now?" He had told her to lie on her back, without moving, to wait for the baby to move, but in nearly an hour this had not happened.
"No, you can't." He rested his hand on her tummy again. "This baby will have to move." He tapped the mound with his finger. "Hey you! Are you going to move or not?"
The response was immediate. He felt something moving under his palm and his hand bolted up instantly. Jane started laughing at his astonished face and Charles, when the shock was over, grinned and placed his hand back over her belly.
"He heard you." Jane smiled sweetly and touched his hair.
Charles looked back at her with adoring eyes. "He knows what's good for him."
Jane giggled. "We are already assuming it's a boy."
"Whatever it is, I only care that it's healthy and beautiful as its mother."
He moved his hand down her body, reaching her leg and then going back up, caressing the tender skin of the inside of her thigh. He shortened the distance between their bodies and kissed her from her shoulder up to her neck and to her ear. Jane was sure that he was warming her up for a new session of lovemaking. She counted six since he arrived on the previous day and by no means did he seem satiated or tired. He was a great lover, proficient, careful, gentle and so aware of her needs that she could affirm that he was absolutely the best man she had ever been with. She purred when he nibbled her earlobe and shivered in expectation when his fingers brushed her inner thighs. She knew that in only a moment, he would roll over her and make love to her with the same tenderness and devotion that he had loved her the previous six times.
"I'm hungry." He murmured in her ear.
So this time he needed to satisfy his other appetite, again. "You already ate all that was in my refrigerator." She chuckled.
He brought his hand up to her chest and held one of her breasts. He kissed the pink top. "I really am."
"I'll see if I can find something to cook." Jane caressed his hair as he nibbled her breast. "If not, we'll have to go to the grocery store."
"No," He raised his head. "Stay, rest, I'll see what I can find."
Charles rose from bed and headed towards the kitchen. Jane watched him go, biting her lower lip to repress the lust that the sight of his naked body produced in her. He had indeed had the most beautiful body she had ever seen. It was lean, and without being bulky, every single muscle of his chest, abs and back were defined. And if there was something Mr. Bingley was proud of, it was his body. He worked very hard to stay in shape and he didn't mind exhibiting it to the world. There was not a single ounce of shyness or modesty in him and she was sure that if someone asked him to walk around Times Square naked, he certainly would do it.
She looked down at herself and couldn't help feeling at a disadvantage. She had a slim, nice body but she knew it couldn't be compared with his. She didn't like to exercise, her breasts -though now swollen- were small and she was looking undeniably pregnant now. Charles, though, seemed absolutely delighted with that circumstance and was all reassurance. Every attitude, every word and every caress left her in no doubt about his affection. He couldn't stop himself from looking at her, from touching her. There was desire and love in his eyes, tenderness in his lovemaking and vulnerability in every word. She didn't have a clue of what would happen when they were in the outside world, but now, here, he had shown her that she was the center of his existence.
Stretching, she rose from bed and put his shirt on. After a trip to the bathroom, she joined him in the kitchen.
Charles heard her coming and smiled in adoration at the sight of her in his shirt. "Hey there, couldn't you stay in bed?"
Jane slid her hands around his waist and rested her head on his back. In practically one day that they had been together, she felt she learned a many things about him. Despite all his fame and fortune and even the oddities that his profession presented to him, Charles was a simple, plain man. He liked simple things, simple food and he enjoyed living simply. He had this recklessness about him, he probably raced his Porsche down the streets of LA and got drunk at those typical Hollywood parties, but when at home, he was the guy with the toothpick between his teeth, the farm boy from Wisconsin that enjoyed a plain life.
"Not without you." It was so funny to have her own sex symbol cooking naked in her kitchen.
One of his hands covered hers while the other stirred the contents of the pan. He was so absolutely happy about all this that he thought that his life couldn't get any better. "Then I'll have to hurry up so you can lay down again."
"What are you cooking?" She walked around and stood next to him.
"An omelet. You don't happen to have any peas or something I can add ..."
The sight of the eggs coagulating put her delicate stomach in uproar. Charles saw her face turn from pink to white to green in a matter of seconds and realized that she was becoming sick. Jane clutched her mouth and walked towards the bathroom as hastily as she could, trying to avoid throwing up in the living room. Muttering a 'Oh, Christ!', he removed the pan from the fire and ran after her.
When he reached the bathroom, Jane was kneeling on the floor, hands firmly securing the toilet, arching her body as nausea overcame her. There was not much Charles could do, just accompany her, so he knelt beside her and caressed her head and back as she threw up everything that was in her stomach. When it was over, he dampened a towel and sat on the floor, holding her against his chest as he wiped her face and mouth.
"Are you any better?"
"Yes." Jane replied shakily. She was pale and sweaty and her body felt cold.
Charles stroked her arm, allowing her to recover slowly. "How is that someone that eats so little can vomit so much?" he said playfully.
Jane smiled weakly.
"Does this happen often?"
"No, but when I saw your breakfast, I just couldn't resist it. I'm sorry."
"I'll be more careful with what I eat in the future." His voice was soft and comforting.
She curled her body between his legs and made herself comfortable in his arms. There was a moment of silence until she spoke again. "Charles, what is going to happen next?"
"Next?"
"With us." She lifted her face to look at him.
Smiling tenderly, he smoothed her hair. "Getting married, finding a new house, decorating the baby's room..."
"Marry?" Jane bolted up and looked at him with a frown, not agreeable with the fact that he was deciding about her future, just like that, without consulting her. "You never asked me to marry you."
"Will you marry me?" he asked her simply. For him it was obvious that they would be getting married so asking her was just a formality.
"Do you really want to marry me?" She asked in a small voice, "you are not doing this just because of the baby or ..."
Charles turned serious. "I want to do this right, Jane. I want to take care of you and our child every day for the rest of my life. I want you with me, I want to wake up every morning and see your smile, hold your hand when you're sick and see our baby grow inside of you. I want to be your husband, Jane. I want to be yours as much as I want you to be mine."
Tears moistened her eyes. "I will marry you, Charles."
A long, sweet kiss sealed their engagement.
"Where are we going to live?" She sighed. "I have my work here. I have to work tomorrow morning and you are here and I don't know what I'm going to do..."
"I didn't come here to turn your life upside down, Jane. You'll go to work and I'll start fixing some things from here. I have some obligations to attend in two weeks, but until then, I'll stay here with you and we're going to figure all this out. Don't worry about me, I can entertain myself."
"I think I can ask them to work part time. We are in pre-production phase and I can work from home if I want."
"You decide. I don't want to be a pain." He smiled sweetly. "The only thing I would ask you is not to tell anyone that I'm here or the paparazzi will stalk us. They are a lot more aggressive in Europe than in America. I fear that if someone knows about this we'll lose this privacy we are enjoying so much."
"Does that mean we can't leave the apartment?"
Charles nodded. "Maybe we can, but we must be very careful."
Jane giggled. "Are you going to wear sunglasses and hats and do all those stupid things celebrities do to escape from the public's and the media's harassment?"
"Exactly." He laughed. "I don't mind going through that, I chose this life, but you didn't and I don't want them to make you crazy. You don't have any idea of how it is to live with a camera always pointing at you, photographing what you eat, what you drink or if you flushed the toilet or not. I want to protect you from that, you are pregnant and you need tranquility. All right?"
She nodded and snuggled in his arms. He felt so right and cozy that she never wanted him to let her go. "Isn't it ridiculous?"
"What?"
"I became engaged to a naked celebrity while sitting on the cold floor of the bathroom after vomiting everything that was in my stomach."
Charles laughed and held her tight. "Don't tell me it isn't an original way to propose to someone."
Jane met his eyes. "I love you, Charles. I really do."
"I love you too, Jane." He smiled.
She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed in utter joy.
"Janie?" he asked softly.
"Mmmmmmm?" she purred.
"Do you think we can get up now? My ass is freezing."
Jane gave her consent and Charles stood, raising her to her feet. They dressed, they found something to make Charles not look so much like himself and departed to the cafeteria to have breakfast. To anyone that would cross their way, they looked very much like the happiest couple on earth.
The release of 'The Secret of the Mountain' was getting closer and Darcy's social life was set into a sort of chaos that he was not very agreeable with. Cocktail parties, openings, releases and dinners were coming up one after the other. He usually succeeded in avoiding them though there were occasions when Ann -who had to attend because of her job- convinced him to accompany her to those events, even if his taciturn attitude was in direct opposition of the final goal to promote the movie. He didn't like to be there and sometimes his discomfort was so obvious that Ann had to pinch him out of it or they would end up leaving the party before it was fashionably acceptable. She tried not to argue with him, knowing that getting him there was almost a miracle in the first place, but her annoyance about the situation was sometimes visible.
This night she succeeded in keeping him at someone's party until a reasonable hour and -no matter if it was only out of resignation- he even behaved nicely. Then, quiet and absorbed in his own thoughts, Darcy drove her back to her apartment in London.
"Thank you for coming along tonight, and for not yawning during the speech." She smiled and squeezed his cheek.
Darcy chuckled softly. "I guess I have not been good company lately."
"No, but I know you well enough to know that you are worried about something. I'm just trying not to push you. With the release so close it's better if I don't put any more pressure on you."
"Sometimes your patience is admirable. Any other woman would have sent me to hell already."
"That's true." She smiled. "Is this about Georgiana? You said she was doing fine now."
"Georgiana is doing well." His tone told her that he was not willing to answer any more questions.
"Will," Ann sighed, "I care for you and I don't like to see you like this. I won't insist that you tell me about it, but I want you to know that I'm here if you need me. Anyway, leaving you on your own now would only make it worse."
He extended his hand and took hers, squeezing it gently before returning it to the wheel.
Ann knew she should insist on this, but she was not willing to end the evening with an argument. Battling wills with William Darcy wasn't easy and though she knew that letting him be wasn't the best thing to do, she was not up to a discussion tonight.
The rest of the drive was in silence. Darcy still pensive and distant and Ann a little fed up with his stubborn attitude. She really cared for him, but if he didn't put out little more of himself to make this right, she was not going to make the effort.
"Are you coming up?" She asked him once he parked in front of her flat. He didn't turn the engine off so it was highly improbable that he would stay for the night.
Darcy glanced in her direction. He really wasn't up to it. "No, Ann, not tonight. I'm tired."
Ann knew him too well to insist. He wasn't tired. As it happened before, Darcy was starting to put some distance between them. She placed a hand on his knee and gave him a quick kiss. "All right, maybe the next time."
He smiled apologetically. He knew perfectly well he couldn't fool her. "Good night."
Darcy remained at her door until she was safely inside. He drove towards his flat, reaching a dark, empty house. Shoes were kicked off, jacket and tie removed and shirt unbuttoned. A glass of scotch rested in his left hand and a Cuban occupied the fingers of his right hand.
He couldn't handle this pain anymore. He couldn't handle the agony of loving her and knowing her lost, the longing, his mistakes, her contempt.
'Even after knowing what you did I fell in love with you.'
Instead of accusing, of forgiving, he should have loved her for what she was. He had been selfish, omnipotent, insulting and arrogant. She had every reason to despise him and he did not know how he was going to live with that.
The whiskey poured down his throat and the smoke fogged his vision. He puffed the cigar, one, two, three times. His eyes closed and she was there, in his mind; angry, resentful, unforgiving. He could almost feel her rejection. He crushed the cigar on the ashtray and walked towards the bedroom.
Elizabeth kicked the covers and looked at the ceiling. A new city, a new bedroom and there was no way she could feel at home. She couldn't blame her aunt and uncle for that, Ed and Maddy were doing their best to make her feel like that this was her house, but she couldn't bring herself to feel that she belonged here or any other place. Everything had changed so much that she didn't know who she was anymore. She blamed her mother for keeping her in the dark for so long, her father for not being a father and Darcy for being the trigger that made all this come out into the light. But most of all, she hated herself for not acting, for not reacting earlier. She respected her mother's silence when she should have confronted her a long time ago it, she continued with George when she didn't care about him and she didn't stop Darcy from getting into her heart after hurting her so much.
What scared her now was her inability to forgive, to let go or even to cry over it. She was still angry, resentful. With her mother, with her father, with Jane, with Darcy, with herself.
At least she finally broke up with George. That was something that should have been done long ago. She called his home and left him a message, asking him to call her back at her uncle's when he arrived. Maybe she should have done this personally, breaking up with a guy on the phone wasn't what she considered a correct way to end a relationship, but at least she finally did it. It even was easier than she thought it would be as George didn't seem to mind about 'loosing her affection', if it ever existed. He even sounded as if, for him, the 'affair' had been over for some time and this would only make it official. But at least, for her, that was a finished issue.
Sleep came and a fog enveloped her, there was an unusual scent in the air. Unlike the other times, it didn't bring comfort or pleasure or happiness, it only transmitted melancholy and despair. Someone was in pain and she couldn't have mercy, someone was trying to reach her and she wanted to walk away. But the connection was broken and that oppression left her chest. Now that he was gone, she missed him. Her anger was replaced by longing and for the first time in weeks, she wished that the spice were back, that her dreams were what they were before.