Page 63 of Desperately Seeking Mr. Darcy

That’s Macey, in a nutshell. Even when things are looking up, she still finds a way to worry about others, as if she’s not allowedto feel relief without a tinge of guilt. It’s like she can never let herself just be happy.

I shake my head at her. “Macey, don’t do that,” I say.

“Do what?” she asks, frowning.

“Feel bad about something you can’t control,” I say. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. I don’t know Monroe, but I don’t think she’d want you feeling guilty about enjoying yourself.”

She shrugs, her fingers fidgeting with her sleeve. “I guess, but it still feels wrong. Like, I don’t know, selfish, I guess.”

“It’s not selfish,” I say firmly. “It’s human. You’re allowed to be happy. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

She looks down, her voice quieter now. “I don’t do that; I just don’t want anyone to think I don’t care.”

“Nobody in the world would think that about you, Macey,” I say, maybe a little too passionately, but I don’t really care. I want her to understand what I’m saying. She’s been more herself here than I’ve seen in so long, and yet this part of her—the part that always doubts, that questions whether she’s done enough or been enough—keeps showing up, like it’s woven into her somehow, refusing to let her just be happy.

“You care more than most people I know—probably too much,” I tell her. “But you don’t have to keep apologizing over things that aren’t your fault. I’ve heard you say sorry at least three times today, and none of them were even necessary.”

She glances up at me, a little surprised. “Have I really?”

“Yeah,” I say with a small smile.

“Sor—”

“Don’t you dare,” I say, cutting her off.

She covers her lips with her hand, like she can’t believe she just did it again.

“No more,” I say.

“But what if I’m truly sorry,” she says. “Am I never allowed to apologize? And how am I supposed to stop something I didn’t even know I was doing?”

“I’ll help,” I say. “Maybe a little pinch under the arm any time you say it?” I reach over and try to grab her arm, but she pulls away from me, laughing.

“Are you going to follow me around until I kick the habit?”

“Maybe,” I say, giving her a shrug. “Whatever it takes for you to realize you’re enough, just as you are.”

She leans her shoulder into me. “Thanks,” she says.

“Aren’t you glad I’m here?” I ask, teasing in my tone.

“Very,” she says, no humor in hers. She leans her head on my shoulder.

So am I.

MACEY

A letter from Zane to Macey, Thursday, September 19, 2:46 a.m.

My dear Miss Bennet,

I cannot believe I let you drag me outside once again, against Lady Catherine’s wishes. Itbehoves behuves behoofs—however you spell that word—me to remind you that such actions may lead to scandal. We were not caught this time, but I fear we may not be as lucky in the future.

That said, I am amenable to doing it again tonight, should you so desire.

Yours in scandal,

Mr. Darcy

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