(Sorry I haven't updated this story in a while, I've been grieving over the fact that the LBD is over! Writing this update helped me feel like it wasn't gone yet and I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading and for your reviews!)
Episodes 96 and 97 From Darcy's Point of View—After the Domino Videos, Darcy receives a voicemail from Lizzie and decides to pay her a visit.
I paced my conference room trying to make sense of Lizzie's latest videos. In the most recent one, Lizzie flatly denied what Caroline had perceived as Lizzie's attempts to seduce me. In the prior video, Charlotte directly asked Lizzie if her feelings about me had changed, but she avoided the question. However, Lizzie also expressed some nice things about me and what seemed like heart-felt gratitude towards my actions to help her sister. Then, she said that we weren't even friends. It all left me more confused than ever.
What exactly had Lizzie meant about me being in charge of my life and her being in charge of hers? I still wanted a relationship with her, now more than ever. However, I still didn't perceive any real indication that she would be receptive to a relationship with me. There were so many mixed signals in her videos that I felt lost at sea, buoyed by surges of hope and dragged down by flat denials and avoidance.
I still felt strongly that Lizzie was about to turn me down when I'd asked her on a date to the theatre moments before her phone rang and everything changed. I had tried to be satisfied with mere friendship, but now even that was in question. Uncertainty nagged me, leaving me with a burning desire for clarity.
I tried to keep Lizzie from becoming aware of my involvement in preventing the release of Wickham's sex tape featuring Lydia. I suppose I should have known she would find out despite my efforts. I didn't purchase that company to curry Lizzie's favor. I did it because I felt responsible for not permanently stopping Wickham earlier and to help Lizzie's family because of how important she was to me. Even if our relationship never progressed beyond its current state, I would always care about her deeply, beyond any fit of passion. Whether I liked it or not, Lizzie was a part of me now, ingrained permanently in my heart.
I hated being apart from her, hated how empty Pemberley felt without her. The sense of loss ate away at me, consuming me from within. During the few weeks that Lizzie shadowed Pemberley, even on the days I didn't actually see her, her mere presence in the building had soothed me. Now, I was restless and agitated, as though a part of me was missing. I often found myself pacing the hallway outside the office she had utilized, drawn to some faded echo of her presence, some hint she had been there.
Once again, my legs carried me down to that hallway. I stood for a moment in the exact spot where she had asked me to help her with her video, picturing her uncertain smile and hopeful eyes looking up at me.
The image of Lizzie dissolved as Ms. Reynolds came around the corner, eyeing me suspiciously. "Is everything all right, Mr. Darcy?"
I cleared my throat and tucked my chin. "Yes, of course."
She raised an eyebrow, not quite convinced. "I just wanted to remind you that you have a conference call in five minutes. Also, your itinerary for Chicago is on your desk."
"Right, certainly. I'll be there directly. Thank you." I hurried off, avoiding eye contact that would betray my embarrassment. I looked forward to my business trip to Chicago. There were no memories of Lizzie's presence there to haunt me.
A few days later, in the middle of a tense meeting in Chicago, an obnoxious pop song blared, bringing the meeting to an awkward halt. As everyone in the room looked around seeking the source of the offensive noise, it took me several seconds to realize the sound was coming from my phone. Utterly mortified, I lunged for the phone, nearly fumbled it across the conference table, and eventually silenced it. The screen indicated that the call was from Lizzie Bennet. As I stared at the screen in disbelief, my cheeks burned. Gigi must have programmed Lizzie's number with a special ringtone. That was the last time I'd let her borrow my phone. I switched the phone to vibrate and stuffed it deep into the side pocked of my briefcase.
I said, "My apologies. Please continue."
After some snickering, the meeting calmed down and proceeded. I heard a faint buzz from my briefcase indicating a new voicemail. I endeavored to pay attention during the remainder of the meeting, but my mind was obsessed with Lizzie's message. Why had she called? I imagined all kinds of banal reasons for her call. It was probably nothing. But what if it meant something I dare not even shape into a thought for fear it would slip away before it materialized. I forced myself to sit still through the rest of the meeting although my hand twitched, itching to reach for the phone of its own accord. I wanted nothing more than to excuse myself and listen to her voicemail, but I controlled myself. The instant the meeting adjourned, I flew out of the conference room and pressed play on the voicemail.
Lizzie's voice was balm to my burning heart. "Hey, Darcy. It's Lizzie. Um, when you have a sec, give me a call. I'd like to chat."
Energized, I rushed back to my hotel room. I wasn't prepared for the profound effect the sound of her voice had on me. Yes, I'd been watching her videos, but those were for the whole world to see. This was her voice meant only for me. I treasured it. I replayed the message several times, trying to understand the meaning of the pauses and the inflections in her voice. I'm terrible at trying to read between the lines, especially when it comes to Lizzie. My finger hovered over her number. I was already running late for my dinner meeting. Rushing this conversation would certainly have disastrous results. I put the phone down with a sigh and changed for dinner.
When I returned to my hotel room that night, it was too late to return her call. I had two more days packed with meetings before I would have a sufficient block of time to concentrate on such an important phone call. That wasn't the only problem. It was imperative that I see Lizzie's face in order to completely understand her meaning. A simple phone call could not hope to carry the weight and complexity of the conversation I needed to have with Lizzie at this critical point. A video call wouldn't be clear enough even if I could convince her. An old fashioned idea struck me. I would go to her and speak to her in person on my way home from this trip. Yes, that was the best plan of action.
During the next two days of meetings, my mind became increasingly occupied with the purpose of Lizzie's communication. The range of possibilities tortured me. By the time I arrived at O'Hare Airport for my flight to Lizzie's hometown, my anxiety was at an all time high. I was so nervous and jumpy that I triggered a higher level of TSA security screening at the airport. They didn't fold my clothes properly after they were finished rummaging through everything so I had to stop and re-pack my suitcase. It delayed me to the point that the airline paged me to the gate in a final boarding call announcement. This had never happened to me before. I was always early. Panicked, I ran to the gate. Breathing heavily, I sat down in my first class seat, happy to be at the front of the plane this time. For once, I accepted a pre-flight drink from the flight attendant, gulping it down before we pushed back from the gate. I tried to rest my eyes during the flight, but all I could think about was all the ways this conversation with Lizzie could go horribly wrong.
I pulled my rental car up in front of Lizzie's house. I sat there for several minutes, rehearsing what I was going to say, desperately trying to imagine her possible responses. My heart raced and my hands trembled. Maybe this was a mistake. No, despite what might happen, I couldn't turn back now. Emboldened by my desperate need to see her again, to know for certain what was in her heart, I took a deep breath and got out of the car.
I walked up to Lizzie's front door and rang the doorbell. I wiped my clammy palms on my pants as I waited.
To my surprise, Charlotte answered the door.
Startled, she said, "Darcy!" A wry smile spread across her face as she crossed her arms. "It's about time."
"Uh… Hello Charlotte."
She pointed to a doorway down the hall. "Lizzie's through there…" She muttered something that sounded like 'Tiger', but the reference was lost on me.
I walked in the direction she'd pointed. I turned the corner and stumbled when I saw Lizzie's profile. She was all dressed up in emerald green and even more beautiful than in my faded memories. I stood in the doorway and drank in the sight of her like a parched man who had been wandering in the desert for weeks discovering an oasis.
She bent down as she asked, "Do you need money for the tip?"
It was time to announce myself. "Excuse me, Lizzie," I said, finally stepping into the room.
She whirled around and jumped up, a shocked look on her face.