Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
She’d never forget dancing in William’s sweltering apartment galley kitchen to “Can’t Stop the Feeling.”
Although he hated pop music, he never argued with her choice or the volume.
In fact, he never argued with her about anything other than her hogging the blankets, snoring, and leaving her dirty socks on the sofa, neat freak that he was.
She felt amazing whenever she spent time in his lofty slice of Manhattan. Here, everything was perfect.
Making chili, she chopped onions with impressive timing to the beat, feet sliding along the tiled floor, shoulders bopping up and down, booty shaking.
All while feeling his eyes riveted to her from the kitchen threshold.
Shirtless, because the radiator worked overtime in the bristling cold outside, William clutched the top of the door frame with both muscular arms. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she saucily grinned, winked, then deliberately wiggled her bottom to the lyrics, “dance, dance, dance.”
Changing the knife for a carrot stick, she held the microphone to her mouth, adding her voice, singing about sunshine.
Barefoot, he came behind her, putting his hands on her hips, dancing to the rhythm with her.
She laughed, loving all his playful moves: grinding against her, turning her around, adding funky sixties dance arms, until it broke into a tickle fest when the song ended.
Gazing up into his dancing eyes, she noted how content he was, so different than the severe man she’d met only six months earlier. Love changes people; it certainly changed them individually and together. They seemed to radiate off one another, like their souls had merged.
“You give me all the best feels, William,” she said.
“That’s my goal. You deserve to always be happy. You know, getting away from your apartment might be the best start! I like when you’re here.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I am happiest here with you. Actually, I’m happy wherever you are.”
“Then, until you hear back about passing your exams for Beaux-Arts, move in with me, Lizzy. Keep your place in Queens but move in here until we figure out what’s next. I’ll continue to pay the rent over there for your sister if that’s the issue.”
Her heart danced because moving in with him was exactly what she wanted, but she felt torn and had a strong sense of obligation to guide Jane onto a happier, healthier future with new opportunities at every turn.
In many ways, it was as though she were the elder sister.
Even the very narrow possibility of acceptance to art school in Paris conflicted her.
“Ha! You just want easy access to my chili.”
“True.” He grinned. “Seriously, I think getting away from your vampire sister from time to time is a smart move. Your smile has been a little less brilliant since she came to town, and that’s not you.”
She kissed him, then turned back to the chopping board. “You’re sweet, but I can deal with it.”
“Why do you have to deal with it?” he asked leaning against the counter she worked at. Picking up the carrot microphone, he took a bite, talking with a mouthful. “She’s an adult, not a child.”
“Well, she acts like a child, and I deal with it because despite her issues I love her, and ... maybe the empath in me needs to go all in. You know me, I like a challenge,” she joked.
“It’s your goodness.”
“Is that code for my pie-in-the-sky, Pollyanna optimism?” She chuckled.
“No. It’s code for ‘people take advantage of you because you have a charitable, loving heart’. She’s feeding off your generosity and it’s unhealthy, Lizzy.”
“Maybe. I just get where she’s at. Apart from me, Jane is alone and trying to navigate life without my mom’s influence. And you know better than anyone, New York City isn’t easy.”
“True, that alone could break the strongest.”
“While she hasn’t gone no contact from my mother, separation can be guilt-inducing.”
“From what you tell me she is your mom. You’re not her therapist or battering ram, babe.”
“You’re right, and I don’t want to be an enabler either. As narcissistic as she is, she’s my big sister and has a good heart, truly. Sometimes, Jane means well and she does have some of my father’s admirable traits, more so than my other sisters.”
“And you?” He bit the carrot. “Are you similar to your dad?”
“I suppose. Big Tom is resilient and a hard worker.” She shrugged.
He chuckled. “Big Tom?”
“Daddy’s a bit portly and tough as nails. Never complains.”
“Are you close to him?”
“We’re as close as we can be, given that he’s in complete denial about my mother’s personality disorder. I haven’t spoken to him in months.”
“Seriously?”
“We text, and that’s fine. Lordy, it’s a complicated mess. My mother is super jealous of our relationship, and he always defends her, no matter what manipulation game she plays using her children as chess pieces. I’m not complaining. It’s just the way it is—unfixable and the reason I moved.”
“She sounds like a polar opposite from my mom who just laughs at the pickle up my dad’s ass but runs block for her kids. I’m so sorry, babe.”
Chuckling, she fondly said, “I love your mother.”
“That’s good because she loves you.” He stopped her hand from chopping, and she looked up at him. “And so do I. Can I at least help you carry this situation with your sister?”
“I appreciate your concern, but I’m used to this. It’s not your responsibility.”
He brushed his thumb against her cheek. “Then know that I will be standing beside you as your escape hatch, parachute, safe space, and shoulder to cry on. And I will always have your back.”
“I’d never expect you to be my savior, but ... you’d be the first to care.” She smiled brightly despite the sadness she felt at her declaration. “I love you, William Darcy.”
He held up a pinky, and she hooked hers with it. “Until forever starts, you can move in whenever you feel ready,” he added. “And if it gets too cramped for you, I’ll buy another place.”
“I’ll never want you to sell. This place is where I find my smile and soak up your good energy after she sucks it out of me,” she added with a chuckle of levity.
“Okay, then, until forever begins.” He deposited a kiss to her lips, sealing their deal.
“Umm ... Mr. Darcy, you do know that sounds a lot like a marriage pact.”
“Maybe.” He grinned, then took another bite of the carrot. “Alexis, play ‘Love Shack.’
Taking her into his arms, he twirled her followed by a B-52 dance session in his kitchen.
Regrettably, she didn’t move in with him, and Jane only got worse.
An hour after Jane’s meltdown in the car, Lizzy dropped her suitcase on the living room floor, flipped through Saturday’s mail, then mindlessly trudged to the bedroom.
For all her good intentions and positivity, she felt spent and angry at so many things.
The second she saw William enter the ballroom, feelings of love lost, resentment, and self-repudiation resurfaced as she witnessed the sadness behind his blue eyes when they locked with hers.
All she wanted to do was cry out, “I’m so sorry!
I have never stopped loving you. I should never have believed your love wasn’t pure and true.
” And once she got over the shock of his engagement and client relationship with La Tempera, she mourned losing him all over again.
Even she had technically moved on with George.
What had she thought—that William would pine for her the rest of his life?
No, but still, she didn’t expect to actually see him in the arms of another.
Then, in a strange twist, she discovered he had pined for her.
For a very brief moment time had frozen; feeling and light returned to her heart, but it was too late.
“Marry me, forever, Lizzy.”
Although remaining silent, she wanted to scream, “You’re too late!
” If only he’d counteracted her argument on that terrible night with a proposal, she would have rethought everything, snapped her out of her illogical mindset.
Instead, he just barked at her, then shut down.
But who could blame him after her side-blinding?
Entering her bedroom, she considered how, back then, another woman in love would have been stronger and had greater clarity when it came to Jane’s opinions and interference over their relationship. She didn’t deserve the gift of William’s love.
A different person would have let Jane experience life and manage its disappointments without a guiding hand.
She wasn’t responsible for ensuring her sister’s happiness or regulating her unhappiness.
Someone like William would never have been so weak-kneed or weak-minded as to allow another’s taunting suggestions and poor advice to hijack his happiness or hurt someone.
She hated that she had been born a sucker and hated that everyone took advantage of it!
Hated that she was a people pleaser and a selfless giver and fixer of lives to her detriment.
William was right all those years ago: “It’s code for ‘people take advantage of you because you have a charitable, loving heart’.
” Had she only ignored her sister’s deliberate machinations, everything would be different.
Still, she, not her sister, owned it from beginning to bloody end, including her foolhardy actions at the wedding reception.
After a morning of playing Olympiad-sized mental gymnastics, she plopped down on the edge of the bed, verbally berating herself and analyzing her sister.
“Jane never adjusted to city life and never found her way or spread her wings to better herself. You held her hand like an idiot, and even after you left for Paris, she floundered for sixteen months in that dead-end coffee shop job until your return. Then! she proceeded to make you feel guilty for leaving, painting, and doing what you love, all while you continued to pay her rent from your savings just to prove your love to your big sister!”
Dropping back on the bed, she wrapped her arms around a throw pillow, staring up at the ceiling.
That Jane adored George should have sent warning bells off from the start.
A laugh burst from her lips at the thought that the two would make an interesting love match worthy of psychological analysis.
Internally, she felt a tinge of joy at the prospect of telling Jane that the wedding was off.
“Where have you been?” she asked when George exited their hotel bathroom following the wedding reception.
“Like I said, I passed out on a deck chair.”
He came up behind her, nuzzling her neck. “Let’s fuck,” he said.
“Ew! You smell like booze.” And perfume? “You know how I feel about sex when you’re filthy drunk.”
That really wasn’t the reason, but it was the only viable excuse she could make.
After everything that happened at the reception, she now saw him with jaw-dropping clarity.
Already disgusted by his comment to William about his late parents, “let’s fuck” was the nauseating cherry on the cake.
In fact, coupled with his insulting manners the other night in the restaurant, he downright repulsed her.
The prospect of sex with George made her flesh crawl.
“Don’t you wanna take care of me? My chin hurts,” he moaned, turning on his seduction voice.
“You’ll be fine. Put some ice on it.”
“But, my dick also aches.”
“Then maybe you should put ice on that, too,” she cut, shirking away from his caress down her arm.
His continued crudeness was bringing about his demise. If her own head didn’t swirl from the drink, she’d kick him out of her hotel room and her life, but she needed to be of sound mind for the inevitable break-up. The clock ticked fast toward “I do,” though.
“Hey, you owe me after leaving me on the dance floor. I was defending your honor, you know,” he complained.
“I’m not in the mood for this, George.”
“Ah, spoken like a true ice queen. You’re cutting me off because he’s here,” he sneered.
“He, who?”
“Darcy, the obnoxious ... billionaire ... who still wants to screw you.”
Jealousy, coupled with sexual vulgarity, were vile traits in her opinion; two George mastered.
“William has nothing to do with your foul liquor breath and crudeness. Neither of which are arousing. You’re letting your envy and the booze cloud your judgment.”
Naked, he sat on the bed. “Jealous? Of him? Hardly. So, how long did you two date?”
She shrugged then turned, walking to the bathroom for her satin robe. Escape was her only thought. “A few months.”
“Did you love him?”
“I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“I’ve known that guy since high school. What an uptight asshole. I assume he wasn’t capable of feeling.”
You presume a great deal.
Sliding into her flip flops, she didn’t reply.
“Did you know I used to go out with his fiancée?” he called out to her.
“Carrie Bingley? No, I didn’t. It’s a small world. Then you saw her at the Pillson exhibit?”
“Nah. You had my undivided attention.”
Sure, I did. “Did you know William’s sister, Georgiana?”
Silence.
“George?”
“What?! I vaguely remember the brat,” he replied a little too defensively.
Exiting the bathroom, she said. “Hmm ... Look, I can’t sleep. I’m going for a walk on the beach.”
“Wearing that?”
He was right, but she didn’t care about much of anything at this point. “Why not? It’s almost three in the morning and everyone is likely asleep.”
“Fine, go clear your head. When you get back, we’ll fuck. I got a raging itch that won’t go away.”
“Then, I recommend making a doctor’s appointment when you get back to the city.” She shook her head. What had she been thinking in accepting his marriage proposal? Had she lost all self-respect? Apparently so.