Chapter Text
It was time for Penelope to fall out of love with Colin Bridgerton. Actually, she didn’t know how to fall out of love with him, but the least she could do was try.
The late July night at Aubrey Hall crept on, bringing with it a welcome breeze through the open windows while Penelope sat in the lounge sipping the last drop from her glass of wine. She almost didn’t hear Colin when he stood up and spoke.
“I guess I should turn in for the night,” he said, depositing his own empty wine glass on the nearby end table. He wasn’t normally so thoughtless and would bring his own dishes and glasses to the kitchen sink, but given the day he’s had, she’ll give him a pass. She did at least manage to hold back from offering to clean up after him herself. She was always taking care of him.
Eloise plopped back down on the sofa next to Penelope refilling both of their glasses of wine, barely acknowledging Colin’s words. Penelope glared at Eloise, she knew she didn’t want to wake up with a hangover. Not after today.
Benedict cleared his throat from his spot in a large oversized chair across the room.
“Don’t forget I need to leave early tomorrow, so you guys need to be packed and ready to go by 8. So that’s 7:45 for your girlfriend,” Benedict gestured at Colin.
Colin paused and let out a slow breath.
“Okay, yeah, we’ll be ready. Night guys.”
As he neared the threshold, Marina rounded the corner bouncing into the room.
“There you are, it’s been almost an hour. When are you coming to bed?” she asked in a huff, staring at Colin.
“I was just on my way up now. We have to be up early to catch a ride with Ben, so we should get to it.”.
“Ughhh,” she groaned as he shrugged his shoulders and moved past her and out of sight. Penelope took a sip of the wine she suddenly found herself grateful Eloise had refilled, avoiding eye contact with Marina.
After stepping back around the corner, Marina doubled back and poked her head into the lounge.
“Thanks again for today, Penny. I owe you one,” she smiled with an exuberance that made Penelope want to jump out a window.
She couldn’t think of anything to say so she just offered a weak smile as a response and Marina quickly disappeared back up to her and Colin’s room, presumably.
“What exactly did she mean by that? What did you help her with?” Eloise asked panning back and forth from Penelope to Benedict, gaging to see if he knew anything.
“It’s nothing,” Penelope sighed. “I just helped her figure something out earlier. You know how Marina can be.”
Benedict coughed behind his glass tumbler of god knows what. Eloise shot him a look.
“I feel like I’m missing something and I hate that feeling,” Eloise said, looking back at Penelope and hoping she’d offer something more.
“Look,” Penelope started. “Colin and Marina were having another fight earlier. Nothing out of the ordinary for them, but I gently gave her some advice on what to say to resolve it, and it seems to have worked and now they’re fine. That’s all. It’s not that big a deal.”
“Noooo, Pen. Why are you helping her?” she groaned. “C’mon, back me up Ben. They’re awful together, it seems like all they do is fight and make up over and over. I was just hoping one of these fights would be the final one and it would be done.”
“I was there, El. It was particularly brutal,” Ben offered, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Colin looked crushed. Marina can really go for the jugular when she wants.”
“Well maybe that’s what he needs to finally see reason,” she retorted.
Penelope looked down at her glass of wine, suddenly wishing she were alone in her room upstairs, not having to explain herself.
Benedict chugged the last of his drink and started collecting glasses around the room. The rest of the family had left them and gone to bed ages ago.
“Eloise, c’mon. You know he has to figure it out for himself, and right now he’s just too blind to do that,” he said, balancing wine glasses between his fingers. “Penelope was just taking pity on us all and trying to help smooth it over enough so we don’t all have to be witness to the finale of their weeklong bickering match. Right, Penelope?”
She looked up barely registering that he said her name, swirling the wine she wouldn’t be finishing around the crystal wine glass that the Bridgertons casually used for their everyday drinking, because they were that kind of family.
“Right,” she coughed. “Marina’s my cousin anyway, I feel a little responsible with her going off on him like that, so I just tried to help tame her a bit. That’s it. Really, El.”
Penelope stood up grabbing her wine glass and the now empty bottle of wine and padded into the kitchen. She tried to ignore the ache in her stomach, wishing it was just the wine, knowing it wasn’t.
She hated seeing Colin so upset, and she hated even more that she couldn’t help but step in and tell Marina exactly what to say to make up with him. She knew him too well, knew exactly what he needed to hear. It was like breathing in thousands of tiny little needles listening to Marina regurgitate her own words to Colin, watching as his eyes softened and he opened his arms to hug her. He kissed her softly, linking their hands together, and stepping out into the garden for a walk and away from the rest of the family. Penelope spent the rest of the afternoon in a daze, putting every ounce of energy into not letting a single tear fall. By the time dinner rolled around a few hours later, she was exhausted, spending the rest of the night through the meal and post-dinner drinks in the lounge nearly silent.
“Eloise went to bed,” Benedict said as he stepped into the kitchen placing the wine glasses in the sink. “I tried to stop her before she chugged the rest of her wine, but she’s faster than she looks. Needless to say, she’s going to be massively hungover tomorrow,” he finished with a laugh.
“That’s alright, I’ve seen worse from her,” Penelope said.
“I just hope she’s not too messed up to drive tomorrow, I know you hate having to drive.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Penelope did hate the thought of having to drive, it always made her uncomfortable and it was one of the rare things she was bad at. She was used to Eloise or Colin driving her on their way up to their annual week at Aubrey Hall every summer.
“I’d offer for you to ride back to London with us, but…” he started as he washed a few glasses in the sink.
“Yeah, 8 AM sounds a bit early, even for me,” she said, stepping up next to him and drying the glasses as he finished rinsing.
“Right. Yeah that’s what I meant,” Ben said, giving her a look she couldn’t quite place.
They finished washing the glasses in silence. Penelope turned around to put the last of the whiskey tumblers back in the cabinet.
“He’s an idiot,” Benedict said.
Penelope’s breath caught in her throat.
“What?” she asked, turning around slowly.
Benedict sighed and gave her a sympathetic look. He crossed the room and placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. He didn’t say anything else. Neither did she. They both knew.
“Night kid,” he said exiting the kitchen.
–
Back upstairs in the guest room at Aubrey Hall, Penelope tried to slow her breathing. She couldn’t be surprised that someone finally figured it out. Hell, she always assumed people knew, but were too nice to say anything to her. Up until this point no one had.
Lying in bed, she closed her eyes counting backwards from 100 trying to slow the thoughts racing into her brain. Did Eloise know? If she had to put money on a Bridgerton figuring out her feelings for Colin, she would have bet on Eloise. They were flatmates, after all, and had been best friends for over 15 years. That didn't mean she wasn't glad she hadn’t had to face that particular hurdle yet.
She rolled over to her nightstand picking up her phone. Without even thinking, she opened Instagram, scrolling mindlessly for a few minutes.
She couldn’t help but groan when she landed on Colin’s post from earlier in the day. He’d posted some photos with the family from throughout their week at Aubrey. Gregory on his shoulders in the pool, playing chicken against Benedict and Hyacinth. Anthony and Kate arguing across the tennis court after a heated match, with Colin laughing in the background. Colin smiling with his arm around Daphne and baby Auggie in his arms. Violet and Penelope in the kitchen giggling, hands covered in flour, making his favorite chocolate biscuits, all 6 feet of him barely hiding behind Penelope’s 5 foot frame, already stealing one off the hot pan shoving it in his mouth. A collection of casual snapshots of Colin with the people he loves, completely in their element.
This was the post that led to his fight with Marina. He didn’t post any photos of her and she was pissed. She had after all, posted a daily batch of photos with him mostly from overly posed photo shoots where she could show off her outfits and use Colin like a boyfriend-shaped prop. He seemed to hate participating in these, but went along with them to avoid another argument.
Penelope closed her phone and decided it was best not to relive it. Taking a slow breath, she attempted to push the entire day away from her mind. Trying and failing.
Marina was trying to grow her following as a fashion influencer. This made everyone uncomfortable, because it was clear that offering a peek inside a wealthy society family like the Bridgertons was likely a bigger contributor to her increased engagement, as opposed to genuine interest in her outfits, which Penelope frankly never really understood to be particularly fashionable anyway.
Colin tried to be supportive and helpful, but didn’t really get the overly curated social media thing. His personal account was private, and he used it sparingly to post the odd birthday or holiday photo with his family members. He had a professional account, mainly for photos of the places he travels and links to his new articles whenever they’re published. As a freelance travel writer, it makes sense to have a centralized place to share all of his work and stories, even if he didn’t love sharing too much of himself personally on there.
He didn’t understand why she was so upset, and that’s when Marina’s claws came out.
What she said doesn’t even matter, it was always nonsense anyway. But Penelope could tell how deep it cut him this time. She tried to slink back into the living room as Benedict had done a moment before. Violet was conversing with Anthony and Kate nearby, all of them giving side glances to the bickering match taking place in the alcove off the living room. Everyone was uncomfortable.
So Penelope did what she always does. She avoids conflict, cleans up messes, solves problems. Marina is easy to manipulate when she feels like her six month relationship with Colin is on the line. She went back to him with her tail between her legs, said the words Penelope told her to, and it was over. The two of them bouncing blissfully back into their annoying little bubble, leaving Penelope in the cold again.
Penelope closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. Her heart was in her throat and she couldn’t swallow it down. She’d loved Colin practically as long as she’s known him. It was time to let go. She simply couldn’t live with the pain anymore. It wasn’t as sharp as it once was. It was dull, but constant. A heaviness that settled in her bones, leaving her breathless and weak at the end of each day. There had to be a better way to exist.
Her battle against the tears was finally lost and she let herself go. Today she would cry. Tomorrow, she would move on. Well, she would try.
–
The following week, Penelope was back in her flat that she shared with Eloise. August was brutally hot in London, which Penelope hated. She always sweat way too much and felt like she was in a constant state of frizzy hair and greasy skin, surrounded by beautiful Bridgertons who barely glistened in the stale city heat.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Eloise asked. It was weekly drinks with the Bridgerton siblings at a nearby pub. “We’re going to The Griffin, it’s one of your favorites.”
Penelope had feigned illness, saying she needed to spend the night home resting and drinking lots of water, hoping to be back on her feet in a few days. She was currently sprawled across the couch wearing sweats with her hair in a messy bun, while Eloise zipped up her booties and tightened her high ponytail. It was a weak excuse, but Eloise was usually tactful enough to not pry. A skill she did not often put to use with her siblings. She had a softer approach to dealing with Penelope. It wasn’t always this way, but after their turbulent teen years, Eloise had matured, and Penelope greatly appreciated it.
“I’m sure. Have a good time.”
“Okay well don’t have too much fun here without me, and that means no sneaking in episodes of New Girl when you know we’re supposed to be watching together!”
Penelope laughed. “I promise, swear on Ferguson’s life, I won’t watch without you.”
As soon as she heard the door click shut, she breathed out a sigh of relief. She spent all day at work having it together, and all her time at home with Eloise having it together, and right now she just needed to not have it together.
She needed to let herself fall apart so she could figure out how to stitch her bones back together into some semblance of a life. So she cried. She cried thinking about Colin. Every hug. Every text. Every souvenir from one of his trips. Every inside joke. It burned her up from the inside out. It had been a long time since she let herself wallow like this. At twenty five, she’d gotten really good at burying her feelings and learning to co-exist with the pain of being in love with her best friend.
Without knowing how much time had passed, she sat up and reached for her laptop on the coffee table. Opening a new Google tab, she typed “how to get over someone” out of desperation. She had to start somewhere.
The list offered practical advice like honesty, space, investing time and energy into healthy habits. Meeting new people. All perfectly doable, and yet she hated it.
Her phone dinged from the table. An odd feeling settled in her gut. She hadn’t heard from him all week. She couldn’t explain it, but she knew it was him. Sighing, she picked up her phone and read the message.
Colin: no Pen at the pub tonight? 🙁
She stared at the screen, choking back a fresh wave of tears that crept up on her. This was a test. She could text him back, tell him she wasn’t feeling well, and knowing him he’d find some charming way to convince her to change her clothes in record time and Uber down there within 15 minutes. She would sit and watch him with his arm around Marina all night, loathing herself for falling into the trap.
Looking back at the list on her laptop, her eyes glanced at the paragraph under “Space” which seemed like the most complicated. Sure, Colin traveled a ton for work, so they often weren’t physically in the same space. But she knew it was more than that. It was mental and emotional space. Texting and Facetiming and sending memes on Instagram. She needed digital space from him.
She turned her phone on silent and flipped it over on the coffee table. She would text him back tomorrow that she was sick and sleeping it off. Well, so much for honesty. But this was a necessary lie.
A few minutes later, she settled back on the sofa with a fresh cup of tea, the old window air conditioner unit rattling away against the warm summer night. An old episode of Friends was getting on, and she couldn’t help but watch as Ross pined over Rachel. It might have worked out for them, but she couldn’t help but deflate knowing that not everyone gets so lucky.
The episode ended and she glanced at her upside down phone. Unable to resist, she turned it over, sending a list of notifications across the screen. Two more texts from Colin.
Colin: El said you’re not feeling well, you ok?
Colin: I can come by tomorrow and bring soup, will get the good stuff from Murrays
A text from Eloise.
Eloise: sorry if Colin is blowing you up, he’s being a prat about you not being here
A text from Francesca.
Francesca: feel better Pen!
The last text is the one that threw her off the most. A text from Benedict. They’ve casually texted mostly in group chats, but it’s rare for him to reach out directly.
Benedict: if you’re around tomorrow, do you want to stop by the studio?
She wanted to text Eloise and Francesca back, but figured that would make it more suspicious about her ignoring Colin. Answering Benedict seemed different. He probably wouldn’t even tell them he texted her.
Penelope: the studio? you gonna give me an art lesson? lol
Benedict: I’m getting ready for a show at the gallery next week so it’s all hands on deck, but if you want to swing by I can always use a coffee break and a distraction
Penelope: I see, so I’m a distraction for you?
Benedict: yes naturally. I also just figured you might want to talk. up to you though, no pressure
Penelope paused and considered this. They’ve said a lot without saying much already. She’s never talked to anyone about this before. Could she seriously talk to Benedict of all people?
Benedict: or we can wind back the clock if you want and pretend I know nothing if you’d prefer. I mean it.
Penelope began typing a message back and hoped she wouldn’t live to regret it.
Penelope: no, I think a talk sounds good. what time?
Benedict: come at 10, bring coffee
Benedict: please
Penelope laughed and told him ok. She closed her phone and turned it back over, heading into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. She’d answer her other messages in the morning.
Lying in bed, she stared at the ceiling feeling the minutes slip by. Her heart had been pounding ever since Colin texted her. It’s like every cell in her body was begging her to respond to him. To reinforce their connection. To enjoy the fleeting moments of feeling like he is reaching out to her, even platonically. He did offer to come over in the morning, but only because he thought she was sick and he wanted to do something nice for her.
That was part of the problem with Colin. His kindness. His good heart. It made him simply irresistible to her. She’d never had the ability to see his hero complex for what it was, a trauma response to feeling useless and forgotten amongst the chaos of the many Bridgerton siblings. She always saw it as a manifestation of his best qualities. Being caring and thoughtful. Showing up. He always showed up.
She closed her eyes, pushing down the feelings of despair, willing sleep to take her.
–
The next morning, Penelope took a quick shower and threw on a lightweight mint green linen sundress, tying her damp curls in a ponytail to keep her hair off her neck. She grabbed her phone, tossing it into her purse as she headed to the kitchen. Before her shower, she managed to respond to Colin as casually as she could.
Penelope: sorry, was sleeping. I’m ok, just had a headache. I actually have plans today but I’ll catch you another time
Setting her purse on the kitchen counter, she got to work mashing up an avocado and smearing it on a piece of toast with a drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkle of salt. She hummed as she bit into it, leaning back against the counter.
A knock sounded at the door, causing Penelope to stop mid chew. She glanced at the hallway where Eloise’s room was, knowing she would be dead asleep at 9:30 on a Saturday morning after a night at the pub.
She placed her toast down on the plate and crossed over to the front door, peering into the peephole. She let out a tight breath seeing Colin Bridgerton standing at the entrance to her flat holding a plastic bag.
Closing her eyes briefly, she willed herself to stay calm as she opened the door.
“Hey,” he said with a smile. “You’re looking much better than I thought you would.”
He stepped into the kitchen following her as she moved back around the island to finish eating her avocado toast.
“Yep, like I said, just a headache. I’m good now.” She knew she was being short with him and needed to find a middle ground that wouldn’t raise suspicion.
He placed the bag on the counter and sat himself on a stool across from her.
“I figured as much when I finally got your response,” he started, shooting her an accusatory look. He must not have bought her excuse about sleeping. Penelope doesn’t love missing out and she’s attended plenty of events with much worse ailments than headache. They knew each other too well.
“Yeah, so I really don’t need soup,” she said, eyeing the bag he was unboxing. “Besides, it’s like a thousand degrees, who could eat soup right now?”
“Lucky for you, I didn’t get soup. I switched the order when I got your text this morning. I see you already had breakfast, but you can have this later if you want.” He turned around the box showing a pristine row of chocolate eclairs. Her favorite.
She brushed the toast crumbs from her plate into the bin and placed her empty plate into the sink.
“That’s thoughtful of you, thanks. I’m actually on my way out though.” Her response was formal and diplomatic enough, but she knew it wouldn’t pass the smell test. Not with him.
He looked at her, his eyes scanning across her face. She hated when he did this. It was like he was trying to read her mind. She was afraid that any minute now, he would figure it out and everything would be ruined.
“Are you okay, Pen?”
She stopped her movements, setting down the rag she had picked up to wipe down the countertop.
“Of course,” she said. “Just a long week. I’m fine, though.”
His hands fidgeted, grasping the handle of the plastic bag and twirling it idly between his fingers.
“Are you sure? I mean, I know it’s dumb, but I feel like I barely saw you last week at Aubrey, which sucks, but I dunno, I was kind of looking forward to hanging out with you last night.”
Penelope sighed. She was gonna have to ease into this “space” thing if she wanted it to seem natural. Otherwise, Colin’s alarm bells would go off and he would claw his way back into the depths of her heart without even meaning to. He was just used to her always being his shadow. Until it became unbearable for her.
“It’s not dumb, you were busy with Marina. And I was just, I don’t know, hanging with your siblings.”
He had the good sense to look a little guilty at that. He also raised his eyebrows at her.
“And what about last night? C’mon Pen, you never miss a pub night.”
She tried to laugh it off.
“I told you, being in a loud, smelly, hot pub with a headache sounded miserable. Besides, I’m sure you, Marina, and all the siblings had plenty of fun without me,” she tried to sound natural as if it wasn’t suffocating her.
Colin frowned. “Marina wasn’t there,” he said. “It was just the siblings. She had some work thing, I don’t know.”
Penelope tried not to scoff. Marina didn’t have a regular job and was an aspiring-yet-not-quite influencer. She struggled to think of what Marina could have to do that she could pass off as “work” these days.
“I’m sure there will be another pub night soon,” she said, trying to dance around the subject. “Look, I have to head out, but you’re welcome to stay if you want. El won’t be up for a while I’d bet, but you can help yourself to anything in the fridge.”
He blinked up at her as she scooped up her purse and headed to the door.
“Um yeah, I think I will. What time will you be back?” he asked, standing up and following her, pausing a few steps behind her.
“I’m not sure, I have a few different things I have to do today, so we’ll see,” she lied.
“Okay,” he said, running his hand through his chestnut waves. How dare he look so beautiful while she’s trying to fall out of love with him. “Maybe we can hang out another day, when you’re not too busy.
She gave him a weak smile.
“Yeah, maybe.”
The door closed behind her and she could feel the first tendril of his everlasting hold on her start to release her from its grasp.
–
She’d never been to Benedict’s studio before. He texted her the address and told her to call him when she got there so he could come down and let her in. It was a pretty nondescript building that could have been industrial at one point. Very artisty.
“Glad you could make it,” he said, grabbing the coffee cup she offered to him as well as the bag of muffins. “Please tell me there’s blueberry in here.”
“Obviously,” she laughed, gazing around the incredibly spacious and yet still somehow cluttered studio. “This place is crazy.”
“Yeah, it can get kind of chaotic, but you know, organized chaos, that sort of thing.” He sipped his coffee and waved her over. “I’ll show you what I’m working on for the show.”
They spent the next 20 minutes walking around his studio, coffees in hand, hot for him (crazy) and iced for her, while he explained his inspiration for the upcoming “Places and Time” theme. Benedict was a brilliant painter, even his self described rougher works are still masterpieces. Penelope couldn’t help but be in awe of him.
“This is pretty incredible,” she said while they stopped in front of his latest work in progress painting. So far he had just done a background landscape. It reminded her of Aubrey Hall, but maybe from another time. It was a rather timeless estate having been passed down through the Bridgerton family for many generations, so it could have looked like that at one point.
“I hate showing people my unfinished stuff, but I’ve come to realize that’s all part of the process, isn’t it?” he said, gesturing over to a nearby table and chairs for them to settle at. Penelope pulled out a chair and sat down, eyeing him carefully.
“Right, part of the process…” she said.
“I mean, it’s vulnerable. Showing something that isn’t finished. Isn’t perfect. It’s like standing stark naked in front of a stranger. Granted, I’d probably be a lot more comfortable doing that instead of this,” he said with a glint in his eye.
“Oh, are you about to get naked?” Penelope laughed. “I don’t think I’m prepared to be scarred for life today, Benedict.”
He threw his head back with a laugh.
“No, no, everyone will be keeping their clothes on today, Miss Featherington.”
“Well that’s a relief.”
She chewed the straw of her iced coffee, wondering how much longer this moment of levity will last.
“So how are you feeling today?” Benedict asked.
“Oh, um I’m okay,” Penelope said. For some reason, she understood he wasn’t asking her about her feigned headache from the night before. “Colin was at my flat this morning.”
Benedict raised his eyebrows
“Was he? How’d that come to be?”
Penelope shrugged.
“I guess he wanted to check on me,” she said. “You know, since I was sick last night,” she finished with a knowing look.
“Right…”
“He brought me eclairs. Chocolate.”
“He did?”
“Yep.”
“Hmmm, and that was nice?”
“It was… fine.”
“Penelope.”
“Benedict.”
He stared at her. At first his stare was hard, but it softened as he saw her eyes start to glisten.
“Pen…”
“I can’t say it.”
He settled his coffee cup on the table.
“You don’t have to say anything. I know you and Colin have always been close and share a complicated relationship. I don’t mean to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, I just wanted you to know that I’m here for you if you ever want to talk. You know I’m a vault.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was planning to open them again, but realized that if she did, she might not have the courage to say what she needed to. What she’d never said out loud before.
“I’m…” she trailed off. “I never even thought I would…”
“It’s okay.”
A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye.
“I’m in love with him,” she whispered.
He said nothing. All she could hear was his slow breaths, in and out, her eyes still closed, squeezing even tighter trying to prevent further tears from trickling out.
“Breathe,” he said. She didn’t even realize she’d been holding her breath. She deflated like a balloon, feeling the tension her body was holding release as well. She opened her eyes and looked at him, not knowing what to expect.
“How does that feel?” he asked.
“Weird,” she said. “I’ve never said it out loud before.”
“And now?”
She sucked in her bottom lip trying to center herself. Her body didn’t feel like her own. There was a faint buzzing in her ear.
“It’s like the longer I kept it in, it didn’t have to be real. It was just in my head. And now suddenly, it’s out there, and it’s real. I have to deal with it,” she said.
“How are you dealing with it?” he asked.
She paused and thought about it. After a week of crying, it had only been one evening of trying to deal with it. She wasn’t quite sure if that counted.
“I don’t know. Trying, I guess.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
It’s not what she wanted to hear, but she knows why he has to say it.
“I know this might be a stupid question, but how did you know?” She asked.
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“I think I always had an inkling, honestly. Over the years, just little bits and pieces. But at Aubrey Hall last week, there was just something different. You were more closed off than you normally are. And it wasn’t that hard to see why,” he said.
Her spine straightened at that. She had been too obvious when she let Marina get under her skin.
“Great,” she said.
“At the risk of you hitting me, have you ever thought about telling him?”
She actually did want to hit him.
“Ben. No.”
“What? Why not?”
She sighed, hating that she had to explain this.
“First off, he’s dating my cousin.”
“That won’t last.”
“It might.” As the words left her lips, she felt a shock ripple through her. What if it did last? She never really believed it, but it could. Could she really watch Colin marry her cousin?
“You know it won’t,” he said.
“Well, either way, there’s no point.”
“And why is that?”
“Because he doesn’t date girls like me.”
“Sorry, what exactly does that mean? He doesn’t date smart hot girls?”
“Jesus, Ben.”
“Actually, you’re right, he hasn’t dated anyone as smart or hot as you.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“I’m not laughing.”
“Ben, fuck. He doesn’t date chubby girls like me. He dates tall thin model types. Like Marina. Not me.”
Ben had the good sense to laugh at that.
“You’re joking, right? Penelope, you’re a fox. You might not be a twig, but seriously you’re like a cartoon character with an hourglass figure and huge tits.”
“Benedict!”
“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to objectify you. Well, maybe I am, but I’m trying to prove a point here. And as a straight male, I think you should take my feedback to heart.”
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” she said, covering her face with her hands.
“Okay, sorry, went really off the rails there.”
“You think?”
“Look,” he started. “Are you trying to say that the reason you never told him how you felt is purely feeling inadequate physically? And I’ll try not to launch into another tangent about how deeply rubbish that is.”
She choked down a sob not wanting to fully break down in front of Benedict.
“I don’t… I don’t know,” she said. “Fuck. It’s so hard. I never wanted to lose him. I was too scared. And then that just became my default state. Silently miserable and in love with him. And hating it every minute of every day.”
“Why would you think you would lose him? You think he’d just blow you off if he knew and didn’t feel the same?”
She knew she wouldn’t actually lose him. What she was scared to admit is the things she would actually lose. The warm hand on her lower back when he guided her towards the bar at the pub to get the next round. The lying on the sofa together with her legs laying across his lap, his hand rubbing up and down her shin. The near constant texting while he was away on assignment. The whispers to each other at the table at dinners and brunches at Bridgerton House. It would all go away if he knew. He would take responsibility for leading her on and put up his guard.
“There’s no way he feels the same. And I think I was just more scared to lose what we had even if I wouldn’t lose him completely,” she admitted. It was enough of the truth.
“And what do you think about that now? About the parts that you’re scared to lose?”
Looking down at her hands in her lap, she knew the answer.
“I think I need to lose them. I’m ready to lose them. It’s time.”
Benedict sighed.
“So tell him,” he said.
She shook her head.
“No. I can’t.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“Maybe you guys just need some space.”
“Yeah, I was working on that,” she chuckled. “You know, until he showed up at my door this morning unannounced.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah. I’m gonna try harder,” she said. “With the space thing. I need to. I need to try.”
“That’s good.” He picked up his coffee and drained the last bit before setting it back down.
“I know you already implied, but if you could refrain from telling anyone about this…”
“Penelope.”
“I know. I just had to say it.”
He stood up and walked to her chair pulling her up into a hug.
“I won’t say a word to a soul. And I’m here if you need to talk.”
She stifled a sob with his shirt.
“Yeah. Thanks,” is all she’s able to choke out.