Him:
Will padded into the living room and turned on a table lamp. He looked out the window at the city before him. Somewhere out there was her. The lights of city blinked at him. It gave him small comfort that he wasn't the only one awake. He turned on his parent's record player and lowered the needle onto the record. As piano music filled the room, Will grabbed his laptop and settled on the sofa. He couldn't help himself. He had to know if she had responded to his email.
A deep smooth voice began to sing. Sinatra. He was singing one of his father's favorite songs.
In the wee small hours of the morning
While the whole wide world is fast asleep
You lie awake and think about the girl…
Will couldn't sleep; Couldn't stop thinking about her.
Elizabeth.
He had not imagined it was possible to love someone so wholly unconnected to him quite so much. He loved her with his entire being, and it rattled him. His parents, he remembered, were deeply in love and very committed to each other. But he had always thought their love was a fluke, something special that was not meant for everyone. Then he had met Elizabeth, and his notions of love, relationships and the course of his future life had drastically changed.
When your lonely heart has learned its lesson.
You'd be hers if only she would call
If only. It felt as if this applied to him. He had sent her the email hours ago. He had hoped she would respond, but as the hall grandfather clock chimed three, that hope was quickly fading. The not knowing was slowly killing him. And the questions! The unanswered questions were surely going to drive him to distraction. Had she received it? Had she read it? Had she believed him? Had she forgiven him his interference in Charlie and Jane's relationship? Did she think better of him? Could she like him? Love him?
In the wee small hours of the morning
That's the time you miss her most of all.
He groaned at this truism. Will missed her desperately. He was so sorry for being stupid and blind. As a person who kept his emotions close, how had he not seen that Jane was the same? If her feelings for Charlie were half as strong as his for Elizabeth, then his friend was a lucky man indeed. He felt especially dense for not seeing how happy the two were. How happy he and Elizabeth could be now if only he had just been honest about his feelings. He was mad at himself for how poorly he had treated her. She, who deserved only the best, whom he loved beyond imagining! Had she read his email? Did she believe him? Forgiven him? Their fight had been a battle and he still felt a little bruised. She had said she never wanted to hear from him again. She was quite emphatic about it, so calling her was out of the question. He would have to wait to hear from her. Surely she would want to talk to him after reading his email, right? So why didn't she respond? Why didn't she call?
Ol' Frank certainly seemed to sympathize with him. But he was terrible at providing answers. Those only one person could supply, and she clearly wasn't.
If only she would call...
Her:
Elizabeth lay on her bed and looked at the clock. Three in the morning! She gave up on the pretense of trying to sleep and got out of bed. Crossing the room to her desk she picked up her laptop and settled with it back on her bed. She turned on her old CD player and pressed play. A gentle piano melody filled the room. Carly Simon's voice filled the room. Sleepless In Seattle. The Gods or Fate or some long dead ancestor were making merry with her.
When the sun is high in the afternoon sky
You can always find something to do...
Sighing she opened her laptop and brought up his email. She had read it two dozen times, at least, since she had received it the previous morning. In fact Elizabeth was well on her way to having it memorized. She felt so many things when she read it. This time she felt so very foolish. He was only watching out for his friend, just as she would have watched out for her sister. Jane always played her emotions close to the vest and gave away very little. Unless you knew her really well, which she did, and he did not. Charlotte had said so, and had been right, too.
But from dusk to Dawn as the clock ticks on
Something happens to you...
She sighed again. He had explained everything: Charles and Jane, George, and surprisingly, a horrible, terrifying story about his sister- involving George- which, given the details he provided, she could not doubt to be true. There was only one conclusion to be reached:
George Wickham was not a good man and Fitzwilliam Darcy was.
And he loved her. Loved her!
How had she not seen his love for her? How could she have been so blind? She could see it now! He plays his emotions close to the vest, too her mind answered. Yes, that must be it. He and Jane were alike in that. And her feelings for him? Well, suffice it to say that they were markedly changed, in his favor.
While the wide world is fast asleep
You lie awake and think about the boy
And never ever think about counting sheep...
She wondered why he hadn't called. Surely he would know that she'd read his email by now. Wouldn't he want to talk to her? See what she thought? Give her the opportunity to apologise? Or had she wounded him too much in their last meeting? Elizabeth considered this. She had been vicious towards him, taking particular pleasure in being so. Perhaps he no longer cared for her. Perhaps he was too hurt. Oh! Why didn't he call?!
When your lonely heart has learned its lesson
You'd be his if only he would call...
She now knew she'd be so very happy with him. They were so right for each other! Carly was right. She had learned her lesson, and was desperate for him to call. Did he think she was asleep? After that email? Was he asleep? How could he be after writing such an email?
You could call him, her tired mind offered.
How? she thought. How could she call him? It was impossible. It was too embarrassing. She, who had such pride in her ability to read people, had gotten things completely wrong. She was humiliated. No. No. She couldn't call him. He had to call her.
If only he would call...