Page 10 of Ardently Yours

“I’d better get going.” Wickham smiles at me again before nodding at Will and Wolfsheim.

To me, he says, “Text me later.” He writes his cell phone number on a napkin, using a pen from his pocket. I take it and smile stupidly at him as he goes.

Will says nothing, brushing past me to go back to the kitchen. Wolfsheim looks at me with raised eyebrows.

“What?” I ask him.

“Hm.” Wolfsheim smirks at me, but goes back to tidying up the front counter like nothing happened.

And I wonder if I missed something.

Chapter Four

Will

Back in the kitchen, I’m aimless. I stand by the counter in the middle of the room, trying to convince myself to do something. To bake, to flip through my journal, to do anything.

But I can’t move; a mix of emotions runs through me. I can’t seem to decipher why. Why did I react that way to Wickham flirting with Lizzie?

I pretended to be her boyfriend for less than a minute today. Maybe I am upset because Lizzie was so affected by Billie and then here comes Wickham, flirting with her. I think it’s too soon to be flirting with that guy after I just heard her crying in her office. Then, she was smiling at Wickham as if she were okay again, like he made her feel better.

Why does that bother me so much? Maybe I want to be the one to make her smile again, to make her feel better.

I care about Lizzie, even though she gets under my skin and we spend most of the time bickering. She’s my friend, though, so I have to notice these things…like when a guy who is not me makes her cry or makes her smile. Right?

I can’t decide if that’s the right reaction, so I settle on the fact that I may be feeling a little overprotective of Lizzie. I don’t want her to end up with just any old guy. She deserves the best.

She’s too smart to end up with a guy who won’t appreciate how funny, bubbly, and business-savvy she is. She lights up every room she walks into without trying, like the time I first saw her at a town hall meeting.

She stood out to me in the audience when she spoke up for Nic’s bookstore, Green Light Books, and Gatsby’s Inn, which used to be owned by Jay’s dad before he retired.

Lizzie wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted, to be brave, bold, and look good while doing it.

It’s like nothing can get her down. But today, something got to her. And I don’t know how to be there for her.

This side of Lizzie that I heard this morning, the crying and sad side, wasn’t the one I’ve spent a lot of time with. But I want to be there for her.

The kitchen door opens, and Lizzie walks in. I turn and bump into her. How did I wander all the way over by the door and away from the counter? I’ve been so lost in thought that I hadn’t noticed.

“Watch it, Darcy,” she says, rolling her eyes at me.

The worry I feel for her fades a little. Hearing her call me Darcy feels right, as if she is back to normal. But I don’t know what to say next.

I can’t make jokes or say anything witty. I don’t know if I should be funny or if I should be concerned. I don’t know if she’ll respond well to me checking on her, but if I am really her friend, then we should be able to go beyond the banter.

“Lizzie?” I ask, unsure.

That smug look on her face fades away. Her eyes tear up and she sniffs, not letting a single tear fall. She looks at me defiantly.

Her lip trembles as if she wants to speak, but she says nothing. I close the space between us and wrap my arms around her. She stands there for a moment, not moving, not returning the hug. Then, she relaxes into the hug, wrapping her arms around me.

Her tears fall onto my apron, soaking through. I hold on tight, resting my head on hers as we stand there. We’ve never hugged before, but this doesn’t feel like hugging someone for the first time.

It feels like the most natural thing in the world to hold Lizzie Bennett in my arms…and that scares me.

Lizzie sniffles again, pulling away first. When she looks up at me, I wonder if she can read my mind. I wonder if she feels what I feel. She reaches up to wipe her eyes, but I find myself reaching up too, wiping her tears away.

“I’m here for you, Lizzie. What are friends for?” I step back and grab a paper towel from the roll on the counter for her.