Chapter 23
Elinor was then at liberty to think and be wretched. —Sense and Sensibility
Elinor
Dear Edward,
How dare you write me those charming letters and make me fall for you? How dare you be so funny and sweet and handsome—all while you have a girlfriend??? I despise everything about you—especially your smile and those crinkle lines by your eyes. I hope someone keys your stupid Ferrari.
***
Dear false-hearted, cowardly man who sometimes goes by Edward,
Here I was, asking you silly questions like what type of chocolate you like, when I should have been asking about your girlfriend. Is she blonde or brunette or a red head? Or perhaps you are dating all three?
***
Dear Despicable Edward,
You said you wanted to know everything about me. How sweet! What I want to know is, when were you going to tell me you have a girlfriend?
***
Not-so-dear Edward,
I wish I had never met you. Why couldn’t you have been the man I thought you were?
I stare at the paper. I’m running out of anger, and all that remains is sadness and deep embarrassment. I have no one to blame but myself. I shouldn’t be surprised to find out he has a girlfriend. Have you seen the guy? Of course he does.
It’s just that when I’m with him, I swear there’s a connection between us that feels rare and precious. Finding out that he has a girlfriend makes me feel cheap and interchangeable, like one of Reginald’s many wives.
I also blame my sister. How dare she play with my heart?
If I hadn’t spent the evening with Edward at the Taproom, I don’t think I would care quite so much.
I shouldn’t care at all. I’ve only known the guy for a few weeks—yet here I am up in my room, writing spiteful letters and feeling sick to my stomach.
Because the thing is—I do care. I care a lot. But I wish I didn’t.
“Elinor,” My mom calls outside my room door. “Can I come in?”
“Just a minute.” I hastily throw all my hate letters into the trash. “What is it?” I open the door with a weak smile.
“I’m worried about you. You came home and went straight to your room without a word.”
“I’m just tired.”
“I would believe that, except J.J. called and told me all about how you dumped water on Edward’s boss, Lucinda Steele. What happened?”
I guess there’s no escaping this. I sit down on my bed and let out a big sigh.
“Edward has a girlfriend.” Just saying it out loud hurts.
“How do you know it’s true? Ms. Steele strikes me as a woman not overly concerned with accuracy.”
“I believe her. It explains why he wouldn’t kiss me. And the other night, after Annie’s meddling matchmaking at the tap room, I kind of asked him out, and he got all embarrassed. Said he’d get back to me. I feel so dumb. I haven’t heard from him since.”
“You could always text him and ask if he has a girlfriend.” My mom sits down on the bed next to me.
“I could, if I thought things might work out with Edward. But I don’t see the point. There’s so much against us.”
“Is there really? I see two people who are crazy about each other. Edward is utterly smitten with you.”
“Um . . . you’re forgetting the girlfriend . . .”
“But does he really have one?”
“Fine! I’ll text him.”
I pull out my phone.
Elinor
Do you have a girlfriend?
We watch the three dots ripple. He’s typing, but it’s taking longer than it should for a simple no. My mom and I watch the phone, breathless.
Finally an answer appears.
Edward
Not officially
“Not officially?!” I exclaim. Maddening man. What does that even mean?
Edward
I was sort of seeing someone, but I’m planning to end it
My whole body tenses at the sharp sting of disappointment.
Elinor
Don’t do it for my sake
“Elinor!” My mom says. “That’s not very friendly. Give the guy a chance.”
“I’ve given him more chances than I should have. I don’t even know what I was thinking, entertaining the possibility of dating him. There are so many reasons against it. I’m sorry, Mom, but we’re going to have to leave Bumble Cottage.”
“I know,” she says. “I’ve been thinking about that.
I just don’t want to.” Her voice cracks.
“We have so many happy memories here.” Her shoulders shake.
I wrap my arms around her, and she lets out a sob.
Her sadness cuts through me. I wish I could weep with my mother and let out all this pain choking my heart.
Dry-eyed and despairing, I hold her while she cries all the tears I’m too heartsick to shed.