It should have been.
And still—
His chest felt uncomfortably tight, as though something essential had been struck and left aching.
The driver spoke again, cautiously. “Shall I take you home, sir?”
Home?
What was home, when his thoughts were not there?
“Not yet,” he said quietly. “Just keep driving.”
Because the worst part, the truly intolerable part, was not her anger.
It was the knowledge that she mattered.
And that he could not simply command his own heart into silence the way he commanded everything else.
Not this.
Not Elizabeth Bennet.
***
Elizabeth had barely set her keys down after getting home when her phone buzzed again. She had sent Jane a message as she left the café, and Jane had been texting ever since. Elizabeth hadn’t replied.
This was another message from her sister:
“I’m coming over. Don’t argue. Your silence sounds… upset.”
Elizabeth stared at it for a moment, then typed back.
“It’s fine. I just… it went badly.”
She didn’t add anything else. She wasn’t sure she could.
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Elizabeth opened the door expecting Jane alone.
Instead, Jane stood there with Lydia beside her—coat on, lipstick perfect, eyes bright with mischief.
Elizabeth blinked. “Jane…”
Jane’s face was apologetic. “She was with me when I got your text. I didn’t want to leave her behind.”
Lydia lifted a hand. “Hello. I was in town. I stopped by to see Jane. And then she got a message that sounded like an emotional catastrophe, so obviously I came too.”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “You came for the catastrophe.”
“I came for sisterly support,” Lydia corrected, sweeping inside as though she belonged there. “Which is sometimes indistinguishable from entertainment.”
“Lydia,” Jane murmured.
“What? I’m being gentle.”
Jane mouthedsorryover Lydia’s shoulder.
