To say she had been shocked was a grave understatement. The bastard was as handsome as he had been four years ago. This realisation increased her state of absolute rage that had already been brought on by his ignorant words.
Bingley's words of introduction brought her back from the land of anger and memories. Suddenly, her face broke into a huge grin. Those, who had had an honour to be acquainted with her a bit more closely, would've seen the warning signs and would've been running in fear of the murderous gleam in her eyes: "Good morning, Mr Darcy! I'm Miss Bennet," she stressed her title making sure he understood she wanted to keep their previous encounter a secret: "I'm your new long-legged and fickle-minded secretary who knows nothing of the world. Now, would you excuse me, Charles, I really must be going. Have a nice day!" She exited the room leaving the men standing with their mouths open. The last thing she heard was an angry and sarcastic Bingley: "Well done, Darce! If before she was one of the few secretaries who didn't hate you then now she sure does."
She continued walking in a haze thinking about the things long gone; the moment she first met him in the lobby of that cursed Vegas hotel, how he was kind and funny, how they spent all their free moments together, how she fell deeply in love with him, how one evening they had a spontaneous idea to get married. She smiled bitterly remembering they were a bit tipsy from the wine they had during the dinner. (Statistics showed that she did nothing good when consuming alcohol. That's why she hadn't had a drop since then.) She remembered her happiness while walking down the aisle, the shine in William's eyes and that fantastic passionate kiss they shared after they'd been pronounced husband and wife.
The figurative theatre in her brain finally started to play her most dreaded memory. Next morning, she woke up in a cold bed. Darcy was nowhere to be seen. She didn't worry until she noticed all his things were gone. She must've called him a thousand times before she put her clothes on and went down to the reception to inquire perhaps he left a message there. The grumpy and impolite woman told that there were no messages and she must vacate the room, because "A Mr Darcy had checked out few hours before".
Luckily, she still had the key of her room. She spent the last week of her month-long holiday in Las Vegas hoping that he will contact her. Her desperate tries of finding him and getting an explanation had been futile. His phone had been disconnected after three days after the wedding.
She returned to Britain as a broken and bitter woman with a very tearstained marriage certificate carelessly shoved into her bag. She vowed to never mention it to anyone not even to Jane, her closest sister and confidante.
Suddenly, back in the real world, Lizzy found herself back in her flat and immediately broke down in tears. 'You still love him, don't you?' sounded at the back of her mind.
"Shut up, brain", she yelled: "I hate him so very much and I promised myself to never see him again the moment I stepped on the plane in Vegas and now I have to bloody work for him."
'Who are you trying to convince? No matter what you say, I know that he has your heart and you're glad that our family sent us to Vegas to celebrate our 21st birthday. Do not dare to lie to me, I know you better than you think you know yourself. I'm your subconscious, remember?'
"I really am going insane, aren't I?"
'No, you're not. You just get along with yourself a bit better than an average person.
"Oh do I?" replied Lizzy oozing with sarcasm.
'Also, you do not have to work as a secretary. You did that all by yourself. It was you, who said that we need a break from the academic world. It was you who wanted a simple white-collar job where we do not have as much responsibility as we do in surgery. Nobody told you to leave most of your schooling out of your CV saying that nobody wants to hire a woman with brains more importantly a woman with brains and two PhD-s, an MD, four MSc-s, an MA, an MBA and three BA-s.'
"Damn, Lydia is right, I sound like mother. Now, please stop berating me and just let me be miserable!"
She walked to the piano that was standing in the middle of her spacious living room and started playing a sad tune. She got to the middle of the song when she heard the doorbell. Her heart started beating twice as fast. Maybe it was him? She forced herself to stay calm and went to the door.
"Hola, señorita! It's me, your favourite bitch!"
"Oh, hi Lottie!" she sighed in relief trying to ignore the painful pang in her chest and her disappointed subconscious saying something about hope dying last.
"Wait, Lizzy, have you been crying? I know that you are an emotional person, but there is no need to cry about not getting a job. Bloody hell, if I had your brains I wouldn't even settle for a low paid position of a secretary." Lottie threw her bag onto the ground and started spinning her hands spread out: "I want to rule the world!" she exclaimed laughingly.
Charlotte had been one of Lizzy's pupils when she taught endovascular neurosurgery in Oxford. She had disliked her at first, but soon they became the closest of friends. Sometimes she thought Lottie knew her too well. She cursed herself for not looking in the mirror before answering the door; at least she could've put on some make up and looked a bit less like a red-eyed snot monster she was at that moment.
"Actually, I got the job. I'm going to be the personal secretary of the CEO," Lizzy replied with fake cheerfulness after Charlotte had finished her rant.
"Then why on Earth have you been crying? Is the pay really so miserably low?"
"Something like that," she replied dismissingly: "Why are you even here? I thought you were supposed to be at some kind of conference somewhere in the middle of nowhere."
"Well, honestly that thing was so boring that I left. Don't judge me, Lizzy!" Charlotte said seeing the look on her friend's face: "You were too good of a student, you don't understand. They had no new information for me so I just walked out. I had an excellent tutor unlike others there."
"I and a good student? You must be delirious!" Lizzy tried to sound appalled, but failed royally: "I used boring lectures to study for other subjects or more often, I don't know, to sleep."
They both laughed until their abs were hurting.
Thank you all for reading! I am really overwhelmed by all the lovely people who have followed, reviewed and added this story as their favourite. Feedback is very much appreciated since I do not have much experience in writing in English and grammar is my Achilles' heel. I'll try to update this on Mondays or Tuesdays depending on my schedule. Unfortunately, there probably won't be a post next week since I'm abroad. I hope you'll forgive me.
E.G.