Lizzie vs. Emma

‘So who do you prefer- Mr. Darcy or Mr. Knightly?’ he asked me.

Two years ago I had jokingly told him, ‘You are such a Mr. Darcy!’, imagining myself to be Elizabeth Bennet.

‘What’s a Mr. Darcy?’ he had asked.

‘Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice. I thought you read! Mr. Darcy is the snobby, high-and-mighty hero’.

‘Jane Austen is for chicks! And I do read!’          

He didn't even remember that time. Does he remember any of those times? Even though I was the one who left, in a way I am the one standing where he left me.

The crackling sound of the telephone over a long distance line brought me back to the present.

‘Mr. Darcy, always! I haven’t finished Emma, though,’ I answered.

‘You should read it. My, er, friend – she loves Mr. Knightly. I read both books to find out why. Finish Emma, you may end up liking Mr. Knightly better’.

Not a chance in a million. I didn’t even have to get through the book to figure it out. Some ‘friend’ to turn an Anti-Austen into a Believer. What else did he read now-‘The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants’? Or maybe ‘The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood’ was his favourite weekend watch.

But curiosity got the better of me. I sat through the night to finish Emma. Red eyed and sleep deprived I typed a message on my phone, ‘Mr. Darcy it is. Told you so. Knightly has zilch personality.’

A few minutes later my phone beeped a reply.

‘Glad you agree with me. Have to discuss this more in depth later the next time we meet. Take care, girl.’ It had one of those smiley faces which I never quite understood.

What I did understand was that he had changed for someone. The only consolation was that she was nothing like me.