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Elizabeth finished packing, placing the last of her necessities into her suitcase. Marie would be along shortly to pick her up, and they would travel to the airport in Boston together. She glanced around, making sure everything was in order. Her father would stop by a few times while she was gone to make sure everything was okay. She'd had to make him another key, as he couldn't find the spare one she kept at their house. Snippets of their somber phone call drifted back to her.
“Is William going to keep an eye on the house for you too?”
“No. Charlotte will come by occasionally, but she'll just do a drive-by to make sure everything looks okay.”
Her father didn't immediately remark on her response, and his silence told her he was trying to puzzle out what was wrong with his uncharacteristically subdued daughter.
“Are you nervous about the trip, Lizzy?”
“No, I'm looking forward to it. You know I've always wanted to see the ACE Basin. It's a dream come true that I'll actually do research there, even if it’s only for a couple of weeks.”
“And is everything okay with William?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you're talking about this trip as if you’re going to the dentist for a root canal. You say you're excited, and well you should be, but I don't hear it.”
She swallowed thickly. “William and I split up.”
“Hm. Maybe it’s for the best, don't you think? This trip could open up all sorts of avenues for you and provide you with more opportunities to further yourself. Perhaps it's not such a good time to be tied down.”
“Perhaps.”
“Once you're down in South Carolina, you'll forget all about William Darcy. He wasn't your boyfriend for too long anyway, right? You couldn’t have been too attached.”
Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed, willing the tears away. “Could you do me a favor? Could you not say anything to Mom?” The last thing she needed to deal with was a hysterical phone call from her mother.
Mr. Bennet chuckled. “It'll be our little secret.”
Today, Wednesday, she’d reached a milestone: it was the first day she hadn't burst into tears upon waking. Her heart still felt heavy and her mind weighed down with thoughts of Will, but she didn’t give in to the pain. He’d been gone, for lack of a better word, for six days now, and they’d felt like the six longest days of her life.
She hadn't gone to work at all; Bill had seen to that. He wanted her home, recovering from her concussion and resting up before the trip to South Carolina. Brenda had been kind enough to gather all of Elizabeth's work and drop it off to her on Monday, so she'd had a couple of days to review and prep. Her headaches were now few and far between, and there was no more nausea. The bruising on her face had faded and was barely noticeable, and a follow-up visit to her doctor yesterday confirmed it was safe for her to fly.
Jane had spent the weekend with her, staying until late Sunday night. Once again, her older sister had been by her side, helping to pick up the pieces. She’d played nursemaid, cooking and cleaning while Elizabeth rested.
It was hard to believe the four of them had planned to spend this past weekend together. But while Jane was here, Charles had remained in Boston, and they’d never gone to tell her parents of their engagement. How quickly and unexpectedly things had changed—and Elizabeth still didn’t know why. But she’d kept her word; she told Will she wouldn't contact him, and she hadn't. Not since she talked to him Friday, when she’d been ready to dash to Boston.
His tone of voice, and the words he’d said... She wouldn’t chase him down. But she missed him. His voice, his smell, his smile… She missed the way he looked at her, missed the feel of his hands on her body, his lips on hers... She missed his entire presence, and fell asleep each night clutching the pillow he’d slept on, holding it to her nose, breathing in those last subtle traces of him.
When he said he didn't want to talk to her, he’d saidnot now. Did that mean hewouldtalk to her at some point? And if that's what he meant, was she supposed to just wait and bide her time untilhedecided he was ready? She had no idea what his expectations were, and she was tired of trying to figure them out, tired of living in limbo.
Yes, today was a milestone day. Today, there were no tears. Today there was anger.
* * *
Will satin first class and stretched his legs out in front of him. He’d boarded the eight a.m. flight in Boston, heading to Los Angeles, and Richard would meet him at the airport. From there they would head to a hotel where Richard had reserved a suite.
He looked out the window as the plane taxied down the runway, and felt the familiar pull in his stomach as it left the ground and steadily climbed into the cloudless sky. Sighing, he closed his eyes and leaned back, relieved to be leaving Boston. No, not just Boston; Massachusetts. Better yet, the East Coast. The proximity of Boston to the Cape was dangerous; it would have been so easy to hop in his car and zip down the highway, cross the canal, and pull up at her doorstep. Too easy, and very tempting.
The past five days—today being the sixth—had given him ample time to think, to weigh everything in his mind. He’d spent a lot of time with Charles on Friday, trying to come up with reasonable scenarios that would have resulted in those photos being in Elizabeth's house. It was an exercise in futility; even Charles's sharp mind—much sharper than Will's most days, but especially Friday—couldn't come up with reasons why they would be in her possession. No reasons other than the obvious, that is.
He’d called Georgiana on Friday night to reassure her that he was fine and to apologize for his behavior the previous night. He was sure he hadn't made a shred of sense, and was embarrassed he’d spouted off as he had. She was understanding but wanted more of an explanation, and he just couldn't give her one. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her again, and that was exactly what would happen if he told her what he’d discovered in Elizabeth's house. He would lie through his teeth before he ever told her about those pictures, before that bastard's name passed from his lips to her ears again.
After hanging up, he’d stared at his phone for a long while, a part of him wishing Elizabeth would call. And on Saturday night, under the influence of another bottle, he’d actually picked up the phone and stared at her number, his thumb hovering for endless minutes over the screen, waiting to put the call through. Eventually, he’d put his phone in a desk drawer and walked away from it.
Misery had enveloped him. Trying to sleep in his bed was a lost cause; she’d only spent two nights with him there, but it may as well have been two hundred. He moved down to one of the bedrooms on the second floor, but it didn't help. Sleep eluded him, unless it was coaxed along with a bottle of booze. But after his repeat binge on Saturday night and waking up with a monstrous hangover on Sunday, he decided he’d just have to deal with the insomnia; alcohol was not the tool to get him through this.
