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"Bye, Cuz."
"Talk to you soon."
* * *
Elizabeth sighedas she climbed the stairs to her little beach house on Saturday morning, inhaling the familiar smell of the sand and salty air.It's so good to be home. She let herself in, dropped her bags, and began opening windows, letting the fresh air in. It was a gorgeous afternoon, but the Cape was in the throes of the dog days of summer—lots of heat and humidity with barely a breeze to speak of, even on the beach.
Her final week in South Carolina had been flawless. The weather was perfect, her team had completed a record amount of research in an abbreviated amount of time, and everyone had remained happy and friendly, even though they were under a tremendous amount of pressure. It was just what she’d needed to take her mind away from everything else.
Even Jason had kept his distance—until the middle of the week, when he’d had the audacity to ask why she hadn’t told him she had a boyfriend.
"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer,” she’d told him.
"Why not?"
"Why not?Because I don't owe you anything,that'swhy not. My having or not having a boyfriend is none of your business. You made it clear to me that you were hoping for something from me—reconciliation, a second chance, whatever—andImade it clear that I wasn’t interested in anything of the sort. That's all you need to know. After Saturday we'll never see each other again, which is just as it should be."
She was glad she’d spoken her mind, and as she reflected on the words she’d hurled at him, she realized it had feltgoodto say those things. Marie had unknowingly imparted some wise advice to Elizabeth a week ago: say what you mean, mean what you say. As far as Jason was concerned, she’d followed that advice to the letter. For the rest of the week, until she left today, he’d only spoken to her when it was necessary and pertained to work.
Elizabeth had finally caught up with Jane during the week, but couldn't bring herself to discuss what had happened over the weekend. She was almost afraid to, thinking her sister would see her as weak. And knowing Jane, she would find a way to spin it to make it look like it was Will's doing. Truthfully, that didn't make Elizabeth feel any better; granted, he’d shown up unexpectedly, but it was Elizabeth who’d taken things to another level.
She was excited to see Jane today, though Elizabeth wasn't thrilled at the prospect of going to her parents’ condo. But her mother would be distracted by the news of Jane's engagement and would probably leave Elizabeth alone—at least, that's what Elizabeth hoped. She would pick up her clothes, say hello to Jane and Charles, and hopefully make a quick exit with a plan to meet up with Jane later.
Walking through the living room, she glanced at the couch with its matching chair. She loved the bright pattern, the way it lent itself to making the house feel like a cottage. As she went into her bedroom, snippets of her conversation with Lydia kept working their way into her mind, and she eyed the bed warily before making a decision.Out with the old, in with the new. On Monday, she would order a new mattress, and would begin looking for a new living room set. She couldn't deal with the thought that Lydia and George had been on her bed, on her couch... If she could rip apart the showers, she'd do that too.
She pulled into the condo parking lot a couple hours later, and was relieved to see Jane's car was already there. Walking inside, she heard raised voices coming from the kitchen.
"Why do you always want to see her miserable?" Jane was saying.
"Elizabeth brings her misery on herself; she doesn't need any help from me,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Why couldn’t she just let George get his things?”
Elizabeth turned the corner into the kitchen, and her eyes sought Jane’s.
"Lizzy," Jane said, her eyes brightening.
The sisters embraced quietly, and when they separated, both were glassy-eyed.
"How are you?" Jane asked, holding Elizabeth’s hands as she looked her up and down.
"I'm well, Jane." Seeing her sister's doubtful expression, Elizabeth smiled lightly. "I'm okay, really." She turned to Charles. "Hi, Charles."
He offered her a small smile. "It's nice to see you, Lizzy."
Elizabeth faced her mother. “Do you have something to say to me?"
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I was just asking Jane why you wouldn’t let Lydia’s young man get his things from your house. It’s bad enough you sided with Charlotte. Lydia is your sister!”
Elizabeth’s anger went from a simmer to a rolling boil in a matter of seconds. “You think I chose Charlotte over Lydia, but you're doing the same thing! You’re taking sides and choosing Lydia over me. How is that any different? You don't even know the whole story.”
“I'm sure you're about to enlighten me.”
“I didn’t want to, but you know what? You need to hear the truth. First of all, George didn’t leave any camera equipment at my house. None. That was a lie, a way for him to get inside. Lydia took the spare key from here—remember we couldn't find it when I was getting ready to leave for South Carolina? It's because she had it. She let that man intomy houseand spent the weekend there. With him.”
“That's what this is about?” Mrs. Bennet asked incredulously. “All this fuss, because ofthat?”
“There's more. They took pictures. Lots of them. Very explicit pictures, which Lydia'syoung mandecided to leave around the house for me to find.”
“What–what do you mean, explicit pictures?”
