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Coconut Trees
by Anton M.
Chapter 9: Something Good
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"Elizabeth," he said, voice full of pain. "You're wrong. Whoever dates you will have everything to be proud of."
She was grateful for his scarf when her tears seeped into it, but she took a breath to keep herself from showing her pain. The problem was, she didn't want to date whoever.
"You are kind to say that."
"I am not kind, I am right," he insisted. "Please tell me you did not assume my stance on your education based on that single debate we had at Bingley's."
"You were… very clear about what you wanted."
"I was also very wrong," he replied. "How could I have known you would come along and prove me wrong? We weren't even dating back then. Do you remember the core of my reasoning for my belief that I should end up with someone with a degree?"
Elizabeth hesitated.
"You thought you were more likely to be challenged by someone educated."
"And was I not?"
"I am not…"
"What? Educated?" he asked. "There's more than one way to be educated, Elizabeth."
"But Jane –"
"– is boring."
"Darcy!"
Elizabeth let out a teary laugh, not having expected his words.
There was a smile in his voice when he spoke. "That was maybe a little blunt for your closest sister and best friend, but it has to be said. I'll never understand people's fascination with your older sister. She's lovely and kind and probably a lot of good things I'll never know well enough to judge, but your parents constant comparison between the two of you has done no favours to your self-esteem, and yet I think you win in looks, character and intelligence."
Elizabeth was so amazed by his words that she took a moment to think of a response. She thought the world of her sister, so it made her feel selfish to want to believe his words, but his proximity, warmth and words squeezed her heart in the most precious way.
"Darcy, you don't have to –"
"I'm not giving you a compliment. I'm stating a fact."
"You're kind to say that but Jane has a Master of Science in Physics from –"
"I know her academic credentials," he interrupted. "And yet, with all of that, she does not follow or think about world issues the way you do, or enjoy discussing them to the length you do. When I debated you over who I thought I should end up with, I'd always thought that those credentials are a sign of that kind of intelligence, that kind of interest and passion. I was wrong, Elizabeth. You proved me wrong. I can't blame you for assuming what I want based on my upbringing and what I said then but I am not who I was two years ago. Even if you think that your dropping out would've ended us as a couple, which I do not agree with, you can't presume that I can stand still in space and time without having been moved by the person you are."
Elizabeth gripped his sweater, hanging on to his every word. He had changed, not only because he didn't fight her on this issue but he readily admitted having been wrong.
"But that day in the gas station –"
"Was me being awkward, not ashamed. I had not thought about how to introduce you to my father and I certainly wasn't ready to be affectionate with you around him. That was awkwardness, Elizabeth. Not shame."
He had said so before, and Elizabeth had had a hard time believing him, but she had to consider his words in the context he gave them and admit that… it was possible. Darcy had always struggled to express himself – or even be himself – around his father.
"So, all this time we were together, you thought our break-up was inevitable?"
Elizabeth shifted.
"Elizabeth?"
"Not inevitable," she whispered. "But… likely."
"But why? Did you think that the moment you told me about wanting to drop out I would've just shown you the door without hearing you out? And how is it that you were ready to fight me on all my opinions and always making sure that I've thought through my reasoning yet accepted this one after our first night of discussions about it?"
Elizabeth lay very still on top of him, impressed with his insight and how much he'd changed and yet uncomfortable with how well he knew how to press where it stung. He had mentioned his expectation of her graduation a few times while they were together, but she could neither fault him for his comments – it was only natural for him to speak of her graduation – nor deny that his question was much too relevant for her liking. She had been scared to press the issue with him.
"Elizabeth?" he asked, gently.
"Are you saying that you would've been fine dating a college drop-out with no future?"
"No. I still couldn't say that. But you are not in that category, not then and not now. I don't know how I would've taken it had you dropped out while we were dating, and any of my guesses are as good as yours. I would have almost certainly found it difficult to accept, not because it is inherently shameful but because I would've had to fight myself and my own upbringing with regards to that."
"Is that what happened when Bingley dropped out?"
Bingley had been a star of their discussion about dropping out of college because he was the perfect proof that, sometimes, it was the right thing to do. As third year students of Computer Science at Oxford Brookes University, Bingley created an app with two of his friends, for travel – they were broke and desperate to know how far they could all go with a hundred and fifty quid, using all available offers and modes of transport, airplane, train, bus, ferry. The app calculated a travel plan taking them the furthest using all means of transport and kept to the budget, and their success was phenomenal.
"No, that was different. But my father… made some cutting comments."
"Because he didn't finish his degree?"
Darcy hummed in agreement.
"Did you struggle to accept his decision?"
"I was the one telling him to pull the trigger. He had the right kind of momentum for his start-up. You can't predict that you'll ever be in the right place at the right time for that kind of success to repeat itself, and I told him as much."
His chest rumbled as he coughed into his scarf, but again, he did not let Elizabeth move away from him, and she rubbed the side of his chest. Darcy had never told Elizabeth that he had an active hand in Bingley's decision, and Elizabeth struggled to accept his double standard.
"Are you tired? Do you want to sleep?" she asked.
"No, I'm okay," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm ready for you to point out what a hypocrite I was, and I… I do not have a satisfactory answer for you. Perhaps this is proof that I, too, am an irrational creature, or perhaps having a best friend who goes against what you thought was the default in life does not make you question your beliefs in quite the same way as having a partner who does the same. Somehow I think it feels more intimate, when it is your girlfriend, but it does not reduce my blame or change how wrong I was."
"It's okay," she whispered.
As upset as she had been by his actions, seeing the change in him made her wish to reassure him rather than blame. She couldn't help it – she had her fair share of blame in their break-up, and it was unfair of him to feel the weight of their decisions any more than she should've felt it.
"No, I – I'm ready to take responsibility for all I did wrong during our relationship, including my snap judgement and anything I did or said that hurt you, but… context matters. Had you shared your struggles and your suspicion of a learning disability, I would've connected many dots that I never thought about. You must have a low opinion of me indeed if you think that that wouldn't have made a difference. But in the end it is not about whether or not you finished college, it is about whether or not you have interests and passions and whether you want a future for yourself beyond doing nothing all day."
"I would never –"
"I know, Elizabeth," he said softly. "That is precisely my point. So why do you insist that our breakup was likely?"
"No, it was more… It made sense. Everything in your life was a sign of how successful you were and everything in mine was a sign of the opposite."
Darcy paused, and when Kitty made a small group of people laugh by the galley, they were pulled out of their conversation. Darcy squeezed Elizabeth's hand, let out a breath and lowered his voice.
"I can't apologise enough for any comments I made that made you feel that way. But you have to understand, they came from a place of confusion about how brilliant you were when we spoke rather than an intention to be mean. Maybe I didn't leave the best first impression on you, but what kind of asshole did you think you were dating that I wouldn't have understood if you told me you suspected you had dyslexia?"
His hand drew small little circles on her back, and Elizabeth breathed in his scent, amazed by the strength of his convictions and how readily he admitted her influence on his thinking. She wanted to express how grateful and in awe of his words she was, but she wasn't sure how to do so without kissing him outright, and when his warm breath ghosted over her face, she was more tempted than ever.
"I didn't think you were an asshole," she said quietly.
"Then what?"
"I was worried that you wouldn't have believed me."
Darcy squeezed her tightly against him. "Your parents did quite a number on you if you really think anyone who knows you would not believe you."
"It's what they did when teachers sent them letters about it."
"What?"
"They did not believe them. I was lazy and stupid and nothing could convince them that I could have a real problem."
"I would like to give your parents a piece of my mind. They caused your struggles and punished you for them. The more I hear about them, the less I like them."
"They're not that bad."
"There's little you could say that could convince me of that."
"And yet, you ended up paying for my mum's hospital stay in the U.S. How did that happen, then?"
It was possible that they could've gotten away with never paying her bills had their mum been a tourist, but her mother was a U.S. citizen born in Columbus, Georgia, and it was possible that she would be hounded by debt collectors, especially when the Bennets went to visit their extended family. Elizabeth did not know how likely the outcome would've been, but it certainly added to their stress.
The hospital bills were not Elizabeth's – or her sisters' – first concern when they heard that their mother was in the hospital in Atlanta after a car accident. She had a serious liver laceration and a need for something called a vertebroplasty to stabilise the compression fractures in her spine, and it was Elizabeth who kept everyone's spirits up and did research on what was happening. But the shock of finding out that their mother had not paid for any travel insurance did not help their terror.
At first, Bingley had left the impression that he'd taken care of it and refused to elaborate, and Elizabeth felt grateful and in awe in the knowledge that Bingley, not yet even married to Jane, had paid for it. It was mere months prior to the plane crash that Elizabeth actually found out, through Bingley (who felt too guilty for receiving her gratitude to not reveal the truth), that it was Darcy and not him who had taken care of it, and it had puzzled Elizabeth ever since. She had tried reaching out to Darcy but her calls went straight to voicemail (and she did not wish to leave one) and she only had so much courage to keep trying.
"Bingley told me."
"But it must've been back when you still thought I'd cheated on you."
"It was."
"Why did you do it, then?"
Darcy hesitated. "Bingley was on the phone with you, telling me about your mum's car accident and how terrified you all were, and I'd just come home from visiting my mum and I… it was a fixable issue. Nothing else in my life was fixable, then. I just had to call my American colleague to figure out who I even had to contact to pay for it, but it gave me purpose."
"But you hated me."
"I –" Darcy paused. "I did not hate you. I certainly wanted to, but… at the end of the day, you were in pain, and even if you didn't love me, or, want to – be with me, I couldn't live with myself knowing that I could at least ease your worries on that front."
Elizabeth did not miss his sharp intake of breath or the rumble in his chest, and she squeezed him.
"How much did you pay?"
Darcy took a deep breath and it blew against her forehead as he let it out.
"How much, Darcy?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me. How much did you pay?"
"It was never my intention that you find out."
"Darcy," she warned. "Have you forgotten who you're arguing with?"
She could not see his smile but she could've sworn it was there.
"How much?"
"Fine. Ninety five thousand pounds."
Elizabeth turned her face toward his chest and let out a muffled moan against it. She had no doubt that he was telling the truth. Her mother had needed three different surgeries and had stayed at Emory Midtown for ten days, two of them in the ICU. Frankly, she should've been surprised the bill was not higher.
"Oh, God."
"It's not a big deal."
She started calculating how long it would take her to pay him back if she continued to make as much as she had for the past half a year, but even in the best case scenario – if she lived frugally, it would still take her five, maybe seven years to pay him back. Maybe if she could convince Jane to help her, they could pay him back together.
"If… if you are patient –"
"No."
"Darcy –"
"No."
"You had no reason to lose –"
"Elizabeth. No. The answer is no. I do not want it, I do not need it, and I will give Bingley a piece of my mind for being such a tattletale."
His words and tone were such that she couldn't help but laugh, and her chest shook against his.
"What?" he asked, amused. His tone reminded her of the mornings when she woke up at Bingley's and found him playing with Chloe and Sophie, and he was so much like the man she fell in love with two years ago and yet the change he had gone through was undeniable.
"You've changed."
"Of course I have changed," he said.
"I mean, you have changed – so much, and yet you are just the same. I can't explain it."
He squeezed her neck. "Do you like it?"
"Very much. Although it feels a little bit like I don't really know you anymore, which is probably true. How did you – what brought it on?"
"Elizabeth, I lost you and my mum within the span of a few months. I was not in a good place, and while it was easy for me to see that my mum needed help when she did, it was much harder to admit it when I needed it. So, Bingley made me go to therapy, and… I hated it. But over time, I… learned to see it as inevitable – and there was a lot to unwrap. Even if you had cheated, I should've spent time trying to understand why and if I could've done something differently to prevent it rather than accuse you of all these horrible things."
Her heart tugged at how much pain he had gone through.
"I did my fair share of accusing you myself, so I think you're forgiven. And I'm – I'm so sorry you had to go through that. Nobody deserves that much pain."
It was enough for both of them to know that they were forgiven because they knew that this discussion could go on in circles. Neither of them could go back in time.
"Why didn't you tell me about what you did?"
Darcy hesitated and squeezed her hand.
"Elizabeth, I… I would love nothing more than to tell you, but I do not know if my words will be welcome to you, and my biggest concern is keeping us both alive. If you get upset by my words or it changes our dynamic, it could literally kill us. I could never, ever have your death on my conscience."
Her stomach flipped at his words, and she felt both nauseated and eager to press for more and hang on to his every word. They were the kinds of words she expected him to say if he had a new girlfriend but also the words that allowed her to hope. But she understood where he was coming from. She could've just kissed him only to be told that he had moved on and their discussion provided him the closure he wanted, and she couldn't risk it.
"Is that okay?" he whispered, and his voice was tender and kind, almost fearful. Elizabeth pressed a kiss on his chest, quietly, but his sharp intake of breath suggested that she was not as subtle as she'd thought.
"Elizabeth," he whispered, squeezing her to him, his tone wistful and gentle and full of emotions she didn't dare unwrap. She squeezed him.
"How do you think Georgie is doing?" she asked, distracting them both.
Darcy's arms around her tightened. "She must be worried out of her wits. Imagine losing your mother and brother in the span of two years."
"I wish I could've met her," Elizabeth said before she realised what she was implying. "I mean –"
"You still could. It's probably been, what, 24 hours since we crashed?"
Elizabeth thought back to the previous day and was startled to realise that he was right.
"It feels like a lifetime."
"It does." His chest rumbled as he coughed. "But they will find us. If the public search is stuck behind some problem or politics, I'm sure Georgie is working on breaking one of our trust funds to finance a private search, and Bingley probably already bribed some Russian oligarchs to do the same."
Elizabeth laughed in spite of herself, and Darcy smiled.
"Do you have provisions for this scenario for your sister to break the trust?"
"I hope so, but I'm not sure. I don't remember them all by heart."
They were torn out of their conversation as a group of people laughed by the windows, and Roger started giving out sandwiches. They slowly sat up. Elizabeth held her hand on Darcy's back as he squeezed his temples and groaned. No doubt he had a headache that was not helped by having to sit up.
"You okay there?"
"I'm fine," he replied, in a low, almost snappy tone that suggested the opposite, and Elizabeth cut their sandwich in two uneven pieces, giving him the bigger one. They tried to savour their food, but it seemed to vanish as if it never existed at all. They drank some water. She observed him to the extent that she could see him in the dim light, and felt touched by the incredible effort he was making, spending so much time talking to her. She would've taken his temperature, but they had no light.
Fatemeh informed them that she and Mary would both keep the new person warm for the night, and as they couldn't have kept to the shifts anyway with no available alarms, Elizabeth was incredibly grateful for their decision.
When Darcy had taken his pills, he lay down and pulled her back against him. Quietly, he tucked the blanket edges around them. Elizabeth hummed, lowering her cheek against his chest. She did not dare put into words all of the emotions being held in his arms evoked, but the familiarity, safety and a burst of affection were undeniable.
"Elizabeth," he whispered, and she could only imagine the exhaustion he felt because his voice was full of rumble and weariness.
"I'm sorry for – making you talk so much when you are so very ill."
"Don't say that. It was – so many things I wish we had covered years ago."
"We couldn't have. We were not who we are now."
He coughed into his shoulder, and she leaned against the backs of the seats until he finished.
"Should I leave you be?" she asked, moving to take her weight off of him. "You need rest."
"Stay with me." His arm gripped her back tightly, holding her to him. "Please." He sounded exhausted, and she let her body mould against his. He rubbed her back, up and down, as she stroked his side. He had always loved falling asleep to her stroking, and she loved touching him. She was content to hear his low hum at her movements.
"Tell me something good – from your life."
He needed sleep, she knew, but he must've wanted to fall asleep to something happy, and Elizabeth only took a second to answer him.
"I got a cat."
"Yeah?"
"She's a fluffy little thing, ginger, no particular breed. I once took her with me to a wedding where the bride was a huge fan of cats. Probably the most adorable pictures I've taken."
His fingers continued to stroke her spine, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
"What's her name?"
"Coconut."
Darcy's laughter, although genuine, was full of rumble. "Of course it is."
He hummed, asking her to continue, and Elizabeth rambled about her cat, events from her job and inconsequential everyday life. Darcy listened until his raspy breaths evened, and Elizabeth couldn't help but press a kiss against his chest before sinking into him. His arms surrounded her while one of hers was underneath his sweater, but she was so tightly locked in his arms she dared not move hers. Finally, she felt warm. She wasn't sure how he could possibly be comfortable with her weight against him but she did not complain.
Elizabeth continued stroking his side, grateful for the change in him and fearful of their future. She caught snippets of the conversations around them before she, too, fell asleep against him.
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