This one's a little longer and more involved. Hope it makes sense. Thanks for reading!
"Do you believe that we wasted a year?"
Lizzie blinked drowsily and rolled over to face William. Even in the near darkness she could recognize his having-trouble-sleeping pose. He lay flat on his back, hands steepled across his chest, staring at the ceiling. "What are you talking about?" she asked, stifling a yawn.
"Yesterday, when Gigi called to wish us a happy anniversary." He sighed. "She wondered, after a year of marriage and three years of being together, if I felt that we had finally made up for wasting a year."
"Hmm. What did you say?"
It was hard to tell without the light on, but his lips might be twitching in a devious smile. "I answered that technically, it was only ten months, three weeks and three days between the moment of our first meeting and the inception of our relationship."
She let out a snort. "Of course you did. Bet Gigi loved that."
William gave her a sideways look. "Then I went on to say that I do not feel that the first year was wasted. Though there are certain details I might wish to alter, it was overall a crucial time of learning and growth for me. I was far from worthy of you when we first met. Though I hesitate to say I am worthy now, I am at least striving to be so, more every day."
"Pfft." Lizzie poked him affectionately. "Like I was totally flawless. I did a lot of learning and growing too. It's publicly documented." She pulled close to him, resting her head on his shoulder, and she could feel some of his tension ease as he wrapped his arm around her. "But we're agreed that it wasn't a wasted year. So why does it still bother you?"
"I recognize that I needed that time to improve myself, to become aware of my flaws and work upon them. I only wonder if the process could have been – expedited somehow."
"I see." Lizzie traced a circle over his chest. "That I understand. I've run through a dozen scenarios, imagining how I could have seen the real you sooner. How we could have trimmed off at least a couple months of misunderstanding each other. And each scenario is less plausible than the last."
"I'd like to hear one anyway."
"Would it help you get to sleep?"
"Perhaps."
"Okay…." She rifled through her mental lists of what-ifs. "Well, since Gigi was the one who brought it up, let's run a scenario that she would trigger. Let's say that while Jane and I were at Netherfield, I happened to overhear a phone conversation you were having with your sister."
"That would be next to impossible. I always took such calls in the privacy of my bedroom."
"I told you this would strain plausibility. Come on, just play along."
"Fine." He shifted beneath her. "When would this mythical overheard conversation have taken place? And how would it have altered our circumstances in any significant manner?"
"So here's the scene." She sat up, her sleepiness fleeing. "Jane and I are maybe one week into our visit. I'm getting pretty restless, because Jane has been sick and I miss Charlotte and I don't want to be here and so on and so forth. One night I just can't sleep at all. So I get up and head for the kitchen, hoping a snack or some tea will help. But on the way there, I hear voices. One of them is yours; the other I don't recognize."
"And what am I doing taking a call from Gigi outside of my room?"
"Bear with me. You can suspend your disbelief just a little more, right? You were having trouble sleeping too. Because that irritating, abrasive woman who's been getting under your skin for the last couple months is now living under the same roof as you."
William straightened, joining her against the headboard. "I never thought of you that way."
"Maybe not with those words. But I was driving you crazy; you can't deny that."
"I did have more than one sleepless night while you were staying at Netherfield," he acknowledged reluctantly.
"I thought so." She scooted closer to him, absently fussing with the buttons of his pajama shirt. "And this particular hypothetical night, you took your laptop to the kitchen and figured you'd get some work done as long as you weren't sleeping. But that's interrupted by a frantic video call from Gigi. She's still really vulnerable after what a certain unmentionable did to her, and she can't wait till tomorrow to talk to you. She needs you to promise her you're not angry, that it wasn't her fault and she's not a horrible person for loving someone that horrible."
His hand tightened around hers. "How did you know she said things like that in our phone calls?" he asked, quiet but urgent.
"She told me," Lizzie said. "Not every detail. But I got the idea. And I've had similar conversations with Lydia."
"So you would overhear all of this," William said, and she could tell he was uncomfortable even at the hypothetical circumstances.
"I'd hear someone crying, and I'd hear you comforting her. And let me tell you, my viewpoint would change very abruptly once I'd heard you comforting someone you love."
"That's all it would take?" he said, openly dubious.
"Well, I wouldn't have rushed in there and proposed marriage," she said wryly. "Let's be reasonable. I would have been really, really, disoriented. For starters, I'd realize I was hearing a private conversation that was absolutely none of my business. I'd want to run to my room then and there, but I'd be terrified that you would hear my footsteps, making an already awkward situation way more awkward. Plus, the sound of your voice being all soothing and comforting would have been virtually hypnotic. I'd wonder if I had entered some sort of bizarro-world where Darcy was nice and cared about people." She squeezed his hand. "Sorry."
"No need to apologize."
"So I'd be standing just outside the kitchen in the dark, completely dumbfounded. But it doesn't end there."
"No?"
"Nope. Gigi would calm down a little and say she was sorry for bothering you in the middle of the night. You'd say that was your job, being her big brother, and she shouldn't hesitate to call whenever she needed it. Then she'd say it was probably ruining your vacation, and you'd say you weren't particularly enjoying yourself anyway."
William sighed. "That wouldn't do much to improve your opinion of me."
"Yeah. I'd assume that there, at least, I was justified in thinking you were a snob who hated small towns and friendly people. But then Gigi would say, Please tell me you're trying to make some friends."
"I would tell her there was a family with whom Bing was becoming very friendly, particularly the oldest sister."
"And what do you think of them?"
"I – suppose she and Bing seem to enjoy each other' s company. But she is of a temperament that is so determined to please everyone, I cannot tell how she really feels about him."
"That would take me by surprise," Lizzie put in. "I would almost hear Charlotte's voice saying I told you so. I'd be angry, but I'd kind of know, deep down, that there was some validity to your viewpoint on Jane's behavior. And then Gigi would say That's not what I meant. Do you like spending time with them? Like, actually being social and stuff?"
"I would hesitate for a long time, then finally answer, Her sister can be – engaging. She does not share her sister's need to be perpetually agreeable, and I admit such an attitude is refreshing."
"You like her! Gigi would say, practically breaking your eardrums. Because she knows you too well, and she'd see right through all your hesitation and lukewarm descriptions."
"You're leaping to conclusions, I would reply, stiffly. But I would not directly deny it."
"Then she'd say she was feeling a little better and was ready to go to sleep. You'd say your good-byes, and I would stand there in a terrified stupor, knowing that now, more than ever, it was crucial that you never ever ever find out I'd overheard this conversation. While you were shutting your laptop I'd finally force myself to tiptoe at top speed back to my room. I'd get back in bed, pull up the covers and shut my eyes. But I definitely wouldn't get much sleep that night."
"Would you be unhappy?"
"Well, sure. I was pretty unhappy the first time I read your letter at Collins and Collins. It forced me to confront a lot of things I didn't want to know. That you were a human being with feelings, and that I had made a lot of assumptions that were simply untrue. This wouldn't have been quite as mind-blowing. Back then, I only hated you in a general sense, not for specific things like you-know-who and Jane and Bing."
William shook his head. "There were specific things even back then. What about my callous words that you overheard after we danced at the wedding?"
"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. But I didn't want to admit that my feelings had been hurt. It was easier to hate you for things that I thought you did to other people. Anyway, I would have been tossing and turning, trying – and failing – to fit this eavesdropped conversation into my narrow, prejudiced view of William Darcy. Oh, and I'd definitely be fighting really hard not to hear Gigi's words over and over again. You like her! That would have been impossible to wrap my mind around. I'd find myself reviewing every encounter with you and finding a new interpretation for everything you'd said and done. It would torture me. I'd be positively zombie-like the next morning."
"And would you behave differently around me after that?"
"Are you kidding me?" She laughed. "I'd be completely freaking out. Barely able to make eye contact, stuttering and stammering, looking for the fastest way to get out of the room whenever you were there. Let's say it's the very next day, and I stumble out of my bedroom. Everyone else ate breakfast hours ago, but you're in the kitchen for whatever reason –"
"I would be in the kitchen, ostensibly because the table provided a useful workspace, but in truth because I knew you were sleeping late and worried you were unwell. I would be waiting for your arrival and rehearsing some solicitous words I could offer you, as well as something to eat or drink that could help you feel better."
"Really?" Lizzie pulled back from him, examining his face in the dim moonlight. "Did you do actually do that when I was at Netherfield? Plan to run into me, prepare what you were going to say?"
His chin lowered into his neck. "I…did. Frequently."
She planted a kiss on his cheek. "Well, thanks, belatedly."
"Lizzie." He seemed truly pained. "I know this is only hypothetical, but I cannot feel satisfied with this scenario if you are the only one affected by this change. If I continued to be the same obtuse, unthinking man as I was at Netherfield, we never could have gotten together."
"Oh, I agree," she said breezily, "though I wouldn't use quite the same words to describe you. Just wait. Things are going to change for the both of us very quickly."
"When you came into the kitchen after a tumultuous night, I cannot imagine you'd be happy to find me there."
"Not happy, no. But not angry. Just really embarrassed. I'd mumble that I didn't realize you were working there and start to leave."
"I would get up and say Please don't leave on my account. Are you not feeling well?"
"No, it's fine. I just – didn't sleep great last night."
"I suppose it must be difficult, sleeping in an unfamiliar place."
"A day before, I would have taken your words to mean I was one of those backwoods, impoverished people who wasn't used to traveling and couldn't function away from my own little bed." She couldn't help scowling at her past self. "But that morning, I'm forced to realize you might actually be trying to say something nice. So I'd just mutter, Uh, yeah. Something like that."
"I would ask if I could get you something, particularly recommending a type of tea that I found helpful for headaches and sleeplessness."
"I'd probably blush then. Because while the day before I would have interpreted your offer as some way to brag about your pretentious, superior tastes, now I'm aware that you want to help me, and it's pretty obvious that you're behaving a lot like Bing did when Jane got sick. And there comes Gigi's You like her! again."
"Would you accept the tea?"
"I'd try to find some way to say no thank you and get out of there, but I'm just so tired. I'd finally shrug and say, Okay, thanks and sit down at the table, rubbing my temples."
"And I would sneak a glance at you while the water was boiling and marvel at how lovely you looked even straight out of bed after a poor night of sleep."
Lizzie elbowed him. "Oh, come on."
"No, I'm quite serious. Part of me imagined that when you came to stay at Netherfield it would prove the cure of my infatuation. That I could admire you from a distance, but in close quarters –"
She had to laugh at the idea of Netherfield being close quarters.
"In close quarters, any flaws and faults would be magnified, and your endearing qualities would no longer be enough to overcome them. I was completely and thoroughly mistaken. I only found more to admire."
"Funny," she said, leaning into him, "because I had quite a few viewers of my videos suggesting that I would warm up to you while we shared the same roof."
"Really?"
"Oh, yes. Talk about dreaming up outlandish scenarios – some of them asked if we'd ever bumped into each other half-naked."
William choked.
"Yeah. Like either of us would wander around the house in nothing but a towel. Of course, I didn't dignify their questions with any responses, but I could have told them I'd seen you half-naked anyway."
He started. "When was that?"
"Uh, in your swimming trunks? At Netherfield's pool?"
"Oh. Yes, I'd forgotten about that. I spent most of that afternoon in the water to avoid being too close to you." She could practically hear him blushing. "Remember that you were in a swimming suit as well."
"Riiight. Well, it's not like I wasn't aware you were objectively attractive. I kind of used it as yet another reason not to like you. You know. Of course he's good-looking, the jerk. He probably parades in front of the mirror ten times a day just to gaze at his dazzling reflection." She winced. "Sorry."
He squeezed her close in a one-armed embrace. "I have no complaints. Nor doubts about your current opinion of my attractiveness."
Lizzie grinned. "Anyway, you're sneaking glances and I'm waiting for my tea and wondering if there is any hope of escaping to my room once it's ready. Because there is no way I can have a coherent conversation with you right now. Until I suddenly remember a part of your discussion with your sister that's only tangentially connected to you or me. You're not sure how Jane feels about Bing. And I feel like maybe I should do something about that."
"Does that mean that in this scenario, you would prevent that wrong?"
"Change it, anyway. I can see now that Bing was at least partially responsible as well. Even Jane played a part."
"You're being generous."
"No, just honest. So when you brought my cup of tea over, I'd thank you, take a sip and clear my throat. Bing sure is going nuts about Jane being sick, isn't he?"
"I would be thrilled that you were initiating a conversation with me, even if I wasn't entirely comfortable with the topic. Yes, he tends to respond with disproportionate energy to this sort of thing."
"I can only imagine if it were anything more serious than a cold."
"Indeed."
"I would pause, take another sip, then say, Jane really appreciates it, though. She – she really likes Bing. I've seen her with other guys. This is different."
"I would raise my eyebrows. Really?"
"Yeah. Maybe it's kind of hard to tell if you don't know her that well. But I can see the difference."
"Would you really be so patient at trying to convince me?" William asked. "Overheard phone calls notwithstanding, I would have been very hardheaded and frustrating."
"I don't think patient is the right word. Just as hardheaded, maybe?"
"Fair point."
"For one thing," Lizzie went on, "she came to stay here while our house is unlivable. She wouldn't agree to that with any random guy. And then I'd turn red and add, Me, I'm just along for the ride."
"I would give some inane reply such as There is plenty of room here, while wondering if you had an ulterior motive in staying at Netherfield."
"And I did, but it was more along the lines of foiling my mother's shameless plans to throw Jane and Bing under the same roof together. I wouldn't mention that, because I really like the two of them as a couple, I just don't like my mother's horrifying methods. And I'm sure you wouldn't either, which makes me both embarrassed and angry."
"Angry at whom?"
"Both of you. But since the phone conversation, that anger has gotten a little confused. And now that I've said my little defense of Jane and finished my tea, I'm getting up to go."
"I would stand up as well. I hope you feel better, Lizzie."
"And now I'm forced to admit the genuine concern in your voice, which makes me very nervous, so I brush it off with something like, Well, another few days and I'll be home again, back in my own bed. Except that two weeks stretches into a month, and every single day I have to confront the fact that I was wrong about you."
"I'm still not sure how any of this would impel me to change my perspective and improve my faults."
"I have some ideas. Like that conversation about accomplished women. If that had happened after I'd heard you talking to your sister, I would have responded to it differently."
"Surely you wouldn't have found my words any less judgmental or pretentious."
"No….but I think I would been more confused by it. It wouldn't have matched up with the guy who was up in the middle of the night, consoling a distraught sister. I mean, Gigi didn't sound well-accomplished and put-together at that moment, and you clearly didn't care. Not to mention….if you really did like me, then what were you doing pointing out all the ways I failed in your estimation?"
"I really was insufferable, wasn't I?" he said in quiet resignation.
"Just a little bit," she said sweetly. "So I'd somehow work up my courage and confront you about it. You do realize you're basically insulting every woman in this town, don't you?"
"I would stare at you, perhaps realizing too late that I should have offered you a more direct compliment – to indicate that I considered you an unusually accomplished woman considering your circumstances. And you would have looked right back, and something in your gaze would tell me that you didn't need me to gratify your own vanity. I did not intend to imply – I would begin."
"But you did anyway, didn't you?"
"I would be so stunned I wouldn't know how to reply. But Lizzie, I find that I'm confused by this scenario. Your softening view of my character would make you harsher toward me?"
"Kind of. I guess I would realize you were capable of being better. Before, I figured you were a hopeless jerk and never expected any better from you."
"I see. And I can easily imagine that your censure would have forced me to reconsider my behavior. It certainly did at Collins and Collins."
"I think by the time Bing wanted to take us to that wine tasting, I might have agreed to go along, just to have a chance to observe you. I'd be really nervous and still have lots of misgivings about what sort of person you really were, but I'd allow for at least the tiny slim chance that you weren't a complete jerk."
"That's a beginning. How would you respond, during the wine tasting, if I attempted to pay you a compliment? Perhaps something about how I admired your affection for Jane?"
"That's good. Any guy can compliment your looks. It takes someone special to compliment your character. And I might actually reciprocate, acknowledging that you seemed really close to your sister. Then I'd bite my tongue, because maybe I wouldn't know that if I hadn't overheard the phone call."
"I wouldn't suspect anything. I would feel pained, however, because I felt that I had failed Gigi terribly that year. And it would probably show on my face."
"And even though I didn't know the specifics, I might recognize that something had had happened to your sister and you felt responsible for it. So I'd try to shift the conversation to something else. So, uh, it's really pretty here, huh?"
"Very," William said, with an intense look that was unmistakable even in the dark.
"Wow." Lizzie settled into the crook of his arm. "Poor Caroline. She would have been watching us. And she would have been furious."
"Indeed."
"I would have been a lot more reluctant when she tried to goad me into hating you more."
"How would it have affected your videos?"
"Well, I definitely wouldn't have mentioned the phone conversation. Not directly. But I would have been…less certain when it came to you. Hesitant to talk about you as much."
"If I had realized that your speaking of me less was a sign that you didn't hate me as much, I would have taken far more comfort from your later videos."
Lizzie laughed. "Yeah, it's pretty confusing, I know."
"And what about my ill-conceived attempt to ask you to dance?"
"Oh. Huh." She smiled ruefully. "I probably would have recognized it for what it was, but I would have been really embarrassed. Especially considering how our last dance went. So I'd say something like, Oh, yeah, actually I don't really like this song that much."
"Oh. I see."
"And we'd stand around awkwardly for a second until I finally blurted, Uh, nice speakers, though."
"Thank you."
"Is that, like, your field of expertise?"
"I would be confused and startled that you weren't aware of the exact nature of my profession. Then I would be forced to realize there might be things which I assumed you knew without explicitly telling you about them. Somewhat. Pemberley Digital encompasses a variety of different media."
"Oh, is that your company?"
"Had I really never mentioned Pemberley around you?"
"No, I'm sure you did. I just filtered out a lot of what you said, assuming it wasn't worth hearing. Pretty awful, huh?"
"Easily forgiven. Would this exchange lead to a meaningful conversation?"
"I think so. It might even merit a mention in my next video. Wow. I'm not sure what I would have talked about if I wasn't complaining about you. I sure spent a lot of time on that. But I could see myself hesitantly mentioning that we had a civil, intelligent conversation. I think by the time I left Netherfield, we'd be approaching something like friendship."
"Then what?"
"So then, when Ricky Collins showed up, I might decide I could talk to you to vent about it. Charlotte just kept telling me to be nice to him. And I really needed to vent. I think –" She bit her lip. "I think that's why I responded so eagerly when you-know-who started texting me. It was an outlet for all my frustration. But if you were already providing me an outlet, I'd see how shallow he was in comparison."
"I admit I would have preferred this part of the scenario very much over what actually happened."
"So would we all. Maybe I'd call you, or maybe we'd even meet up. I'd start out complaining about Ricky, but then maybe the conversation would wander to more normal things, and we'd actually have a good time together. By the time Charlotte accepted Ricky's offer and we had our big fight, there'd be no question where I'd go to find a shoulder to cry on."
"I thought Jane did an excellent job of comforting you."
"She did, she definitely did. But in this scenario, I'd know – thanks to you – just how insecure Bing was, and I'd insist that she go and spend time with him. And then I'd call you up and ask if we could meet somewhere and talk."
"I would, of course, readily assent. Where would you like to meet?"
"Somewhere quiet and secluded. Maybe the park down the street. We'd sit on a bench and I'd pour out the whole ugly story."
"I would try to be a sympathetic listener, terrified that one word or misplaced gesture would destroy everything."
"You'd be fine. I wouldn't need any words or gestures, just listening. Toward the end I'd want some sort of validation, though. Am I wrong for wanting to finish my degree? For wanting to find a job I actually care about?"
"I believe your talents would be sadly wasted working for Ricky Collins."
"I'd wipe my eyes and say, You think I'm talented?"
"Of course you are. You have a gift for engaging people when you speak. You're a natural storyteller."
"Then I'd get nervous, because you still didn't know about my videos and if the earlier ones weren't full of insults at you, I might take that moment to tell you about them. But underneath that nervousness I'd be flattered, and just a little giddy that you thought so highly of me. But then – then, let's throw in a twist. Lydia texts me and begs me to come with her to Carter's. In her way, she's trying to help cheer me up, though I probably wouldn't see it that way. So I let out a long-suffering sigh and say I have to go babysit my sister. Um – do you want to come along?"
"All right. If I recall correctly, Bing was out of town that evening."
"That's right…and Caroline made sure that you saw Jane surrounded by guys at the bar, apparently flirting with all of them. Blech. Well, she might have tried to engineer something similar, but it would have turned out very differently."
"Something else very unwelcome happened at the bar that evening."
"Oh, I know. We're getting to that. So, we meet up with Lydia and Jane at the bar, and Caroline comes along a little later, and it's kind of a weird, awkward get-together, but Jane is able to smooth everything over with her Jane-ness, and even when Caroline pulls you aside and points out how friendly she's being with all the other guys, you know it's not flirting. So everything's going great until a certain swim coach swaggers up to us."
"Different circumstances notwithstanding, I expect my reaction would be exactly the same as it was in the real scenario."
"But mine would be different. I'd follow you outside and catch up with you before you could leave. What's going on? What was that all about – do you know each other?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Well?"
"I'd rather not talk about it."
"Okay. But is he, like, a serial killer? Should I warn my sisters or something?"
"You might want to warn them. To my knowledge he has not committed murder, but other things –"
"Then I'd blurt it out. Is he the guy who hurt your sister?"
"I would stare at you, not knowing what to say, where to begin with my questions."
"Crap. I – I'm sorry."
"What do you know about that?"
"Just – I kind of overheard you talking to her. At Netherfield. I didn't hear any details. Only that some guy had really hurt her, and you were comforting her. I'd stare at the ground and hope you didn't remember what else you said in that conversation."
"I would finally manage to say Why didn't you mention it?"
"Uh, it was private and I was embarrassed for stumbling on it. I'm really sorry."
"I see."
"I wouldn't be able to meet your eyes. Ironic, I'd think, that the thing that made me stop hating you might be the thing that would ruin our newfound friendship."
"Have you mentioned this to anyone else?"
"Of course not!"
"Then I don't see that you have anything to apologize for."
"Really? Really?" Lizzie only now realized how tense she had been, half-forgetting that none of this was real, truly concerned that she had ruined the beginnings of their relationship.
He kissed the top of her head. "You're too hard on yourself. You always have been."
"That's up for debate." She sighed. "Anyway, I'd have trouble finding words, but I'd finally say, I think I might tell my sisters something non-specific. How about, I found out he's a real jerk who broke a girl's heart really badly?"
"Several girls."
"Ugh. I can't believe I actually –"
"I'd turn to you sharply. Actually what?"
"We kind of flirted, the last time he was in town. I thought he was charming. I'd be red-faced, feeling vaguely guilty even though it's not like we're in a relationship, and we definitely weren't a few months ago."
"He is charming. One of his more dangerous qualities."
"Listen, Darcy. I'm really sorry you had to run into him. I totally understand if you'd rather go home now."
"But –?"
"Um, could we just go for a walk?"
"I would not object to that."
"So I'd text Jane to let her know where I was, and we'd start walking. And after we talked about easier things for a while, I'd take a breath and say, I feel like if I'm coming clean about things, there's something else I should tell you."
"What is it?"
"I hated you when I first met you."
"The word hate would have me taken aback. I knew you didn't seem particularly warm toward me, but hate? That I would not expect."
"I didn't really know you. I made a lot of assumptions, and I interpreted everything you did to fit what I already believed."
"I see."
"I was wrong."
Quietly William said, "I would find it very hard to speak. What – what changed your mind?"
"Um. It was the phone call with your sister, actually. It forced me to see a different side of you."
"I see."
"I felt bad for accidentally eavesdropping, but honestly I'm glad it happened, if that was what it took to open my eyes."
"I see."
"Would you please say something else?" Lizzie had to resist the urge to knock him in the arm. He was playing his part very convincingly. "I'd be afraid that underneath your stoic face, there was a simmering fury."
"It wouldn't be fury; it would be fear. Fear that our friendship was built upon something so tenuous, that it could just as easily be eradicated. I apologize. This is – a lot to process."
"Well, there's more."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I'd be bracing myself at this point, ready for some kind of explosion. I have a video blog. I've been running it since April."
"I would be relieved, having expected something far worse. That sounds like an excellent outlet for your talents."
"I'm not sure you'd be saying that if you'd seen the videos."
"Why?"
She swallowed. "Because I spent the first, oh, twenty-five or so, complaining about you. A lot."
"I see."
"It would be very uncomfortable," she sighed. "But we'd have to get that out in the open."
"Would you give me permission to watch them?"
"Well, yeah. Not that you needed it. But you'd ask for it, wouldn't you?" She laced her fingers through his. "You're so stupidly honorable. I love you."
"So I would watch them. And I would call you the next day and ask if we could meet."
"I'd say yes, but I'd be terrified. Do you want to just come over here, to my house? Because I'd be thinking of that time I said it would be ridiculous for you show up in my videos, in my bedroom. Inviting you there would be like an apology, somehow."
"That's fine."
"I'd have the stools set up, but the camera wouldn't be on. We'd sit down."
"So this is where you film them."
"Yes."
"I would be choosing my words very carefully, very gingerly. I've come here to apologize."
"A-apologize?"
"For my words at the wedding. They were thoughtless and hurtful. I didn't know you overheard me, but that is no excuse. I am sorry."
"You're sorry? After everything I said about you – the costume and the robotic voice - all the horrible insults and angry rants? And you're apologizing to me?"
"Do you feel the need to apologize to me?"
"Uh, yeah. I'm really, really, really sorry."
"All right."
"That's it? It's all forgiven?"
"Yes."
"Wow. Okay. Don't worry about the wedding. Seriously. Then I'd get really daring and dive right in. "I – I kind of overheard more than I said before. During your conversation with your sister."
"I would hesitate, then ask, What else did you hear?"
"That you – liked me. At least according to your sister. And I'd be looking everywhere but at you."
"I did."
"Did?" The past tense was frightening.
"I did like you, in spite of myself. That was before. Now there is no longer any inner struggle. And Lizzie Bennet, I am in love with you."
And that was the right moment to kiss him.
She smiled then and whispered against his lips, "Somehow we always end up back here."
"Yes, we do," he murmured. "It's nice to find ourselves right where we belong."
