Page 69 of Without Pride and Prejudice
“I’m honored.” I grinned.
“But Fitz,” her voice cracked. “It didn’t matter, because even though everyone got a happy ending because of me, Mr. Darcy didn’t really want me. He said he loved me despite my meddlesome ways, which was just to say that he didn’t like how I tried to fix everything, even though in my dream I could actually make things better. I should have known I was dreaming. He didn’t love me for me,” she said, more to herself.
I shifted uncomfortably, clinging to her for dear life. I knew where this was going and that it was time for me to face the music of my own making.
“Regardless, I still wasn’t enough. Mr. Darcy was just like you. You want me in spite of who I am; you want me to change. I don’t want to be loved like that, especially by you. I realized I just want to be Monroe.” A single tear fell down her smooth cheek. “I know I’m not perfect, but why can’t anyone just love me for me?”
Her question was clear: Why couldn’t I love her for who she is, without conditions? I drew her hand up and kissed it. “Monroe, it was just a dream. You matter more to me than anyone or anything. I love you. All of you,” I begged her to believe me.
She shook her head. “You withheld your heart from me all this time because I embarrass you. You, my person. How am I going to live without you?”
“Monroe, you don’t have to.” I sat on the bed and took her into my arms, wires and all. The thought of being without her withered me inside.
She fell against me and sobbed. “I kept thinking in the dream that if I couldn’t have you, maybe I could have the next best thing—a Mr. Darcy who looks like you. But it didn’t work. Hespoke Darcyjust as well as you do. And even though I made a pretty good Elizabeth, it wasn’t enough.”
“He sounds like a prideful arse, just like me.”
“He totally was.”
“Monroe.” I tilted her chin enough to gaze into her watery eyes, full of heartache. I still saw my future inside of them. I wanted that future more than anything, and to ease her pain. “The reasonPride and Prejudiceis so beloved is because it’s a story of redemption. Please, Monroe, give me the chance to redeem myself. For these past several hours, when I didn’t know if you would ever wake up, it was a torture like I had never known. You are my life, the best part of me. Please, let me try to deserve you,” I pleaded.
She fell back against me and clung to me, but she refused to say if she’d give me that chance. I couldn’t fault her for that. The damage I’d caused was undeniable, and I knew words alone wouldn’t suffice to mend it.
I stroked her hair until she fell asleep on my chest, but there was no sleep for me. All I wanted to do was hold her for the rest of my life. I lay awake thinking of how to prove myself to Monroe. How does a Mr. Darcy redeem himself?
“Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her.”
MONROE
I WOKE UP IN THE hospital bed late Wednesday morning, feeling the effects of the fall. It was a soreness and stiffness like I’d never known. I’d kind of hoped I would get to skip that part, since I’d already dealt with it in my dream. But that was wishful thinking. I felt like ... well, like I’d fallen off a horse and hit the ground. At least I had access to modern pain relievers instead of opium. Not only was I dealing with pain, but I also had to come to terms with the fact that it had been only a vivid dream and I hadn’t really been gone for well over a fortnight. Sure, I was ecstatic I hadn’t died, and even grateful there was no such thing asFantasy Island. It was even a relief that I hadn’t proved the space-time continuum theory—sorry, Einstein. But ... with all that good news, I also had to address why I hadn’t woken up right away.
The doctor told me in the wee morning hours when they’d woken me to check my vitals that he believed it was caused by a psychological injury.Psychogenic unresponsiveness, he’d called it. It’s caused by trauma or stress. Falling off the horse was definitely traumatic, but the possibility of losing my best friend, even more so. I suppose the dream made more sense in that light. I think I just wanted a safe place where I could be true to myself and still have Fitz in my life. Who knew I didn’t reallywant to be Elizabeth Bennet? Although, I had to say: I rocked her. But I think more than anything, all I’d ever wanted was to be accepted for who I am. I’d forgotten that, but my brain had a funny way of reminding me.
The room came into focus, and I saw Fitz standing by the bed, dressed in his regular clothing and looking as freakishly handsome as ever. Honestly, he really should have been number one on the hottest bachelor list.
“Hi,” I croaked, my throat dry. I felt shy around him, considering I’d admitted the dream to him and cried myself to sleep while he held me tight. He was my best friend, and I’d wanted and needed him to play that role, even though I feared for our future. I knew he said he loved me, and I loved him too. But how could we move forward when it was clear now that I was definitely not cut out to be in his noble world, and that I embarrassed him?
“Good morning.” He bent down, kissed my forehead, and lingered. Dang man, he knew I was a sucker for a good forehead kiss—I always squealed in movies when one occurred. Fitz knew all my secrets. “I have something I need to do.”
“You’re leaving me?” I didn’t mean to sound needy, but hello, I’d just woken up from some peculiar coma state that had the doctor bewildered. And regardless of our relationship status, I needed him here. “What’s so important?”
He ran a finger down my cheek. “You.”
“Then why do you have to leave?”
“You’ll see.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m not leaving you without company.” He looked over his shoulder and out to the hall. “You can come in,” he called.
I glanced at the door, and in walked my dad, Kingston, and Anna, who carried a beautiful bouquet of daises, my favorite flower, and a shopping bag from a ritzy store here in the UK.
“Dad,” I cried. “When did you get here?”
My goofy dad, dressed in a loud golf shirt and joggers, his thinning gray hair disheveled, rushed to my bedside. “Kingston and Anna just picked me up from the airport. Alastair made all the arrangements.”
Fitz moved out of the way and let my dad have at me. Before Dad sat on the bed and wrapped his arms around me, I mouthed “Thank you” to Fitz, who wore an air of melancholy determination. It made me wonder where he was going and what it had to do with me.
I sank into Dad’s embrace.
“Hey, kiddo.” He kissed my head. “You scared your old man. Who was I going to tell all my dad jokes to?” his voice cracked.
