Page 80 of Desperately Seeking Mr. Darcy

“I just need to talk to her, to explain.”

I let out a breath. “She’s been traveling all day, and we’re both exhausted. Trust me, just give her some time.”

She nods then, like she’s hearing what I’m saying, which is probably hard for Amelia. She’s like me in that way, wanting to just jump right in.

“I didn’t want her to find out like that,” she says.

“I’m guessing you didn’t want her to find out at all,” I say.

She bobs her head from side to side. “That would have been preferable.” She makes a gurgling noise in her throat. “I could throttle that Agatha woman.”

“That’s Her Ladyship to you,” I say.

“What?” she asks, confused.

“Never mind.” I take a sip of my water. “Anyway, what’s done is done.”

“Does she ... hate me?” Amelia asks, her shoulders sagging.

“I don’t think Macey could hate anyone,” I say, and it’s true. Macey is the kind of person who forgives before you even ask, who always tries to see the best in people, even when they don’t deserve it. That’s just who she is—kind and hopeful, maybe to a fault.

Amelia dips her chin. “That’s true. I thought I was doing the right thing. I wanted to help her. Things were just so crappy for her, you know? I wanted to make it better.”

“I’m sure she knows all that. I’m sure she’ll talk to you soon. But for now, I think you should let her get some sleep,” I say, tapping my sister on the shoulder as I go to leave the kitchen.

I’ll wait until she’s ready to talk too, because she deserves that from me. And also because she’s worth waiting for.

MACEY

An email from Christine to Macey, Tuesday, September 24, 9:16 a.m.

To:[email protected]

From:[email protected]

Subject:Welcome back!

Macey,

I hope you had a great time on your trip. I can’t wait to hear all about it. Let’s touch base today and get you caught up on what you missed while you were gone.

I’ve got quite a bit of paper that needs stapling—hope you are ready to get back to it!

Best,

Christine

I TAKE A DEEP BREATH before knocking on the door of Christine’s office.

You are strong. You are brave. You can do hard things.

It’s strange because unlike the many times I’ve told myself these words before, today I actually feel them. Iamstrong, andbrave, and Icando hard things. I think. I’m pretty sure. Listen, Rome wasn’t built in a day. I’m a work in progress.

But right now, I’m taking a big step.

“Come in,” Christine says, and I open the door to find her sitting at her desk, stacks of unstapled papers surrounding her.

“Hello,” I tell her, giving her a mostly awkward wave.

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