Darcy grimaced. "The other situation?"
"Elizabeth."
"Didn’t I say she was fine earlier?"
"I didn't ask how she is. I asked how the situation is."
"The situation is also fine."
"You are in the bathroom, Will."
Darcy said nothing.
"Tell me about dinner," Bingley said.
"Dinner was uneventful."
"Did you speak?"
"We spoke about Mia's school schedule. And whether the radiator in the hallway was always that loud."
"Romantic," Bingley said.
“It is not romantic, Charles. We were discussing a radiator.” Darcy shook his head. “More to the point, I am in the house of my late cousin and his wife, raising a child I have no idea how to raise. The last thing on my mind is romance.”
“Right,” Bingley said. “And somewhere between the radiator and the school schedule… did you make eye contact?” he added, ignoring Darcy’s protest completely.
Darcy was silent for a moment too long.
“She has always made it difficult,” he said finally, “to have a conversation with her. She looks at you like she is already two steps ahead of whatever you are about to say… and has already decided it is not worth much.”
"I know," Bingley said. "Jane does the same thing. I find it completely compelling."
"We are different people, Charles."
"Evidently." Bingley giggled. "Do you hate living with her?"
"No," Darcy said. "I do not hate it."
"But?"
"There is no but."
"Will."
Darcy looked at the ceiling. "I do not hate Elizabeth. I have never hated Elizabeth. I simply do not understand how a person can spend a month with someone. Can have the kind of conversations that make you rearrange things in your head. Can make you feel like you are finally being seen by someone who actually has the capacity to see you." He stopped. "And then send a break up text message."
Bingley was quiet.
"Four lines," Darcy said. "Four lines and then nothing. No explanation. No conversation. Just —" He looked at the ceiling."I have thought about those four lines more times than I am willing to admit to anyone, including you."
"You just admitted it to me."
"I am aware."
"Will." Bingley's voice was careful. "Have you ever considered that she might have had a reason? Something you don't know about?"
“I have considered it for eight years,” Darcy said. “I have not come up with anything that explains four lines and no conversation. I tried my best to get her to speak to me about it, but… nothing. She perfected the act of dodging me at first, then simply ignoring me.”
