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The heavy expensive earrings felt like weights on Kate’s ears. The ridiculous couture gown was itchy on her skin, and the tiny stiletto heels were making her feet ache. She didn’t hate the dress, especially after seeing how the strips of fabric crossing her breasts and the little bits of skin showing under her cleavage and at her sides made Anthony’s eyes practically bulge out of his head. But, looking down at her outfit once more, Kate didn’t recognize herself. It wasn’t her. At some point after her marriage she had lost sight of who she was, trying to conform to something she thought her husband had needed, and it was starting to feel like a weight on her back that she dragged with her everywhere she went.
Kate knew Anthony was probably looking for her. After the charity ball speeches and the ridiculous things Mrs. Cowper had said about her—pretending as if Kate could not hear—she had fled from the ballroom. She had literally speed walked to the nearest door, shoved past a few surprised staff members, and found an exit. The venue was on the ocean and there was a dock only a few steps from the exterior door. Kate was immediately drawn to the sound of the lapping waves and the seagulls calling in the distance.
For a time she was content to let the sea breeze wash over her with her eyes closed, absorbing the sounds of the water as it broke against the shore. She let it wash away the cruel words she’d just heard and tried desperately to not entertain the things that she had been fearing since she’d stepped into the public eye. That she wasn’t good enough for him. That she stole him from his fans. That she didn’t have what it took to be on his arm. That she wasn’t giving him what he needed. That she didn’t look the part. Didn’t play the part.
It was so difficult, to see the cruel things they said on social media, to not start believing it herself. The frustrating part was she would have done anything for Anthony, given anything in her power to give, he was her light in the dark. He was everything. And she was sure he’d say the same about her.
However, the fact was, she had been playing a part. Somehow she’d lost herself along the way. Outside of the cocoon they had built in their posh west end condo, she wasn’t happy.
Kate knew part of it was the dress. The heels. The jewelry. The way the stylist had done her hair. All of it felt wrong somehow. It had always felt wrong.
She was shaken from her thoughts at the sound of Anthony’s voice.
“Kate?” he asked tentatively. She could hear him over the crashing waves and could suddenly feel his presence even though her eyes were still closed. Experimentally, Kate leaned back, and a zing went through her body when she felt Anthony’s strong presence against her bare skin. Almost automatically, he arms went around her.
His presence was like a balm and Kate let out a shaky breath.
“What happened?” he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder. Kate enjoyed the feel of his stubble as it rasped her skin. Although she didn’t like wearing the heels, she did enjoy how they made her taller than him, and how he frequently rested his head against her chest or shoulder when she wore them.
“That Cowper woman,” Kate admitted, moving her hands and arms to rest on his. She finally opened her eyes and looked down to see how he so easily wrapped himself around her. His wedding ring glinted in the sunlight and the sight of it sent that same spark of surprise through her belly. “She called me a… some unkind things.”
Anthony sighed, sending a small puff of warm air across her skin. “I detest that woman.”
Kate turned in his arms and placed both hands on his face. The way his eyes creased in concern and how it made the dimple between his eyebrows deepen tore at her heart and made her want to cry. “Can we please go home?”
Anthony nodded, stepped back, and reached for her hand.
—
Eying down her closet, Kate crossed her arms. It was filled with designer labels. Gowns she never had the chance to wear. Dresses and skirts that she loved from fashion magazines, but could never picture on herself. Things she had been sent for free, to wear out, so they would appear in tabloids, in social media posts, and at red carpet events. All decisions that someone else had made for her, because she was married to Anthony Bridgerton and because her legs were long and svelte, her waist was small, and her jawline was otherworldly. Pamela Cowper may have called her trailer trash dressed in drug store diamonds, but Kate knew she was fashion model material.
And she hated everything she looked at. She hated that for some reason her wide hips and pear shaped frame made her somehow more feminine than some other person that had been born female. She hated that for so many years she’d convinced herself that she needed to present as fem just so others would accept her. So the beautiful women in her high school and uni classes would be nice to her. So the hot guys at clubs would talk to her. It was all bullshit. It was time to call bullshit on her closet.
Kate thought back to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt she used to love as a girl, how it had gone threadbare after being washed too many times. How she’d loved playing with the little pizza shooter toy car her neighbor had, or mucking around in the mud with him after a rainstorm, or seeing how waterproof her boots were by wading with them into a stream. Those amazing idyllic school vacations, where she’d throw on any old t-shirt and pair of shorts and explore the hedges and old train tracks behind the house, rather than playing with the other girls and their dolls. Or when she got older, when the other girls started experimenting with makeup and clothes, how she preferred to stay home and play video games or read comics. How her mother, who she loved deeply, had refused to buy her any of the action figures or games meant for boys—she knew Mary meant well, and the world had been different back then, but the memories were all reminders that she had always been this way.
Soon, every dress, skirt, and floral blouse was in a box or bag, ready to go to a charity shop or sale. She figured Anthony’s busybody assistant would know what to do with it all, hoping in the end all the proceeds could go to the family clinic around the corner from their condo.
The closet was nearly empty. Kate smiled thinking about how she’d enjoy filling it up again, but this time with skinny and wide-legged trousers, tuxedos, suit jackets, vests, button downs, vintage t-shirts, jeans, and anything else she actually enjoyed wearing. She eyed her shoe collection next.
—
Comfortable in a worn out band t-shirt (1999 Prince World Tour thank you very much) French tucked into a pair of old high waisted jeans, Kate jumped into Anthony’s arms the second he walked through the door. He’d been out of town on business and she’d missed him every second he was away.
“Prince,” Anthony said, grinning, as Kate pulled away, “nice.”
“Found it at a charity shop downtown,” Kate told him, spinning to show him the back with the tour dates listed on it.
“Are we moving?” he asked, noticing the boxes stacked in the living room, a little wrinkle of worry spearing across his forehead.
“No,” Kate told him happily as she dragged him into the living room. She divested him of his jacket and tie, and pulled him onto the couch as she ruffled his hair for good measure.
“Thank you,” Anthony laughed, moving in to kiss her neck. He always looked so buttoned up in all the photos she saw of him online, especially when he was doing press. It was her secret delight to rough him up as soon as he got home. “Ahhh,” he sighed against her skin. “I missed you.”
“Mmm,” Kate hummed, running her hands up his back and enjoying the feel of his lips grazing her neck. She’d wanted to talk to him about serious things, but the second he’d put his hands on her, all thoughts had flown out of her head.
“I love you,” Anthony rasped before biting her shoulder and then laving the skin with his tongue.
Kate groaned and was suddenly dizzy from his ministrations. “I hate when you’re away,” she whispered, running her nails against his scalp and further mussing his hair. She paid particular attention to the areas where the pomade had caused strands of it to stick together in clumps. Anthony, taking her cue, groaned as well.
“Stop,” she whispered, using every bit of willpower to push his head back. This was important, she reminded herself, and she’d kept it all secret from him for far too long.
When Anthony raised his head, he was blinking at her in confusion. His hair was standing on end, his jaw was slack and lips parted, breathing deeply.
Kate put her hands on his face and caressed his cheeks with her thumbs. She wanted to cry all of a sudden, the emotions flowing through her were so powerful they made her hands start to tremble. Anthony placed a hand over of her’s, pulled it back, and kissed her palm.
“I have you tell you something,” she whispered. Finally, she let him go and rose up, so she could sit on her legs on the couch. She straightened her back. Anthony brought a knee up to the couch and rested his arm across the cushions, facing her. His eyebrows were drawn up, but he patiently waited for her to speak.
“I don’t want to be a woman anymore.” Kate drew in a deep breath and let it out in a calming gust. “I don’t feel Iike a woman. I don’t think I ever have.”
Anthony’s resultant smile was soft. He placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m nonbinary,” Kate added. As she did, her face crumpled and her eyes watered at having finally said it out loud. Anthony leaned in and placed a kiss on her temple. “I don’t know why it was so hard to finally say.”
“You’ve been struggling with this for a while,” Anthony responded, pulling back again.
“You noticed?” Kate asked, wiping at a tear.
“I figured you’d talk to me when you were ready.” He ran a gentle calming hand up and down her arm. “You always seemed so uncomfortable at formal events.”
“I was, I am,” she told him, looking off into the distance. “I hate wearing dresses and heels. I hate being in pain at the end of every night just to achieve some ideal standard of beauty. I don’t want to do it anymore.”
Kate took another deep breath and let it out through pursed lips.
“I hope you know I never want you to feel that way, either.” Anthnoy’s voice was soft, his eyebrows still drawn together in concern.
Kate smiled softly. “I know. I wanted to do it for you. And I still want to attend, to support you, but in trousers. And perhaps fancy trainers.”
Laughing, Anthony reached over and ran thumb over Kate’s cheek. His eyes were creased from happiness and the dimple between his eyebrows was smaller
“You don’t always have to attend, you know that, right?”
“I know,” Kate whispered, smiling. “But you need me to protect you from all the feral single women.”
“And men,” Anthony added with a laugh, his voice suddenly deepening. “And married women. And people. I need my wi—spouse to protect me.”
Kate grinned and leaned forward to place a smacking kiss on his cheek.
“Are you going to change your pronouns?” Anthony asked as she pulled back.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
—
It was strange how it had all suddenly been so easy, the moment Kate had accepted that part about herself, and carried on. Telling Anthony had been the scary part, but telling their families after that was simple. Everyone had been extremely supportive, especially Eloise who said that she’d wondered if she was non-binary as well.
Coming out to the public was a little bit scarier. For their first red carpet event Kate wore a Dior royal blue velvet tuxedo, sans shirt, with a strappy black bralette underneath, and low peep-toe heels. Her wavy hair was loose and flowy, and she sported no jewelry. When Anthony saw her, after she was done with the stylist, his tongue had practically lolled out of his mouth. Kate was thoroughly pleased.
It did not hurt that through most of the red carpet he took every opportunity to bump into her. To rub a hand down a soft velvet sleeve. To stand indecently close. To run his nose down the shell of her ear when he thought no one was looking.
Women wearing suits to posh events wasn’t a new thing, and the ensemble was not remarked on other than it looked fierce and that Kate Bridgerton looked comfortable on her husband’s arm.
When she continued to eschew the fashionable gowns and refused the ultra-feminine designer garments, people started to raise their eyebrows in question. That’s when Anthony’s PR agency strongly recommended she come out officially, and they set up an interview with Vanity Fair.
It wasn’t exactly headline news, but Anthony was frequently asked about it when he was accosted by the paparazzi. The things he said about her, how he fiercely loved and supported her, and how he loved watching her become comfortable in her skin, it still made Kate’s knees weak and overflowed her heart with affection for that man.
The public support was empowering. Of course there were haters and critics, but they were easy for Kate to ignore. The important part was that she had finally figured out that one thing about herself, and outside of her marriage to Anthony, it was one of the best things she’d ever done.
—
“You know,” Kate remarked, taking in the expanse of her husband’s tanned glossy skin. “I think these swim trunks are the best thing that were ever invented.”
Anthony laughed, and looked down at his short light blue trunks. Kate smiled, watching his abs flex as he admired himself behind his black Ray Bans. They’d been languishing on the beach for a week already, having finally taken their first vacation together since their honeymoon. Kate used to detest celebrities that could afford private beaches for their posh vacations, but loved it now, knowing that she could have her husband all to herself.
“I have to tell you a secret,” Anthony responded, pulling Kate close as the waves lapped at their feet. “I wear them because my spouse thinks they’re hot.”
Kate laughed, and slapped at Anthony’s hand as he pinched her side. Kate was wearing a crop top bikini with a scoop neck and straps that crossed at the back, and low rise bikini bottoms with criss-crossing strips on the sides. Anthony playfully ran a hand over her bottom, dragging his fingers across Lycra and bare skin.
“Your spouse sounds amazing,” she responded, taking a few steps back out of his reach. Anthony grinned at her mischievously and started to stalk in her direction through the surf.
“They’re my better half,” he grinned, picking up speed as Kate turned to try to run away. She screamed and laughed when he caught her and hauled her over his shoulder.
When she realized he was carrying her toward the waves, she slapped his back and told him to stop. He didn’t listen.