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Penelope stared at the restaurant. She had spent nearly half her life in that place. Today was a day she'd rather not be there. She lit a cigarette and circled around, stopping at the back door. It was going to be a long day ahead—after all, it was football game day at Aubrey Hall. The small, tranquil town of Aubrey Hall had a population of five thousand three hundred and twenty-two. Penelope despised football game days because they brought in at least a hundred visitors from neighboring towns, mostly teenagers. But there wasn't much she could do, so she flicked the cigarette to the ground and extinguished it with the tip of her shoe.
Inside the bar, she unlocked the kitchen. She knew the day's menus by heart. Twelve years working in that place. She had witnessed the lives of various people change—schoolmates who left for college and returned, marriages, divorces, births, and deaths. In a small town, there was no better vantage point to observe life passing by than the one and only bar/restaurant in town. Sometimes she felt like the only one who hadn't changed. Occasionally, she was startled by the realization that she was already twenty-eight years old. The thirties were knocking at her door. Yet, she still felt twenty-three—well, maybe not twenty-one, but definitely twenty-three. It had been a few years since she'd grown accustomed to drinking.
Her life was solitary. She lived alone in a two-bedroom house. Her sisters had married and moved away. The youngest was in college. Her best friend lived in the neighboring city and visited either her or their mother. Occasionally, Penelope would go there too. But apart from those moments, she felt like the old Danbury's description: the axis of Aubrey Hall. The world spun, yet she remained the same, the zero point on that small cardinal plane. Penelope sensed she might be the replacement.
"Good morning, Pen!" Michael, the bar owner, appeared in her kitchen. "We'll have all the Bridgertons dining here today. Violet called to check if everything's okay."
Penelope stopped. The apron slipped from her grasp, its brooches and pins clattering against the floor.
"Do you need help?" Michael continued. "There aren't many people outside. I can come in and assist with chopping vegetables. Startled you, didn't I? But it seems this was a bit unplanned."
"Everyone, all of them with their spouses?" Penelope asked.
"I believe so. John mentioned he'd be in town." Michael sighed. "That's... From A to D times two, plus F times two, plus E, G, and H. And of course, Lady Violet..."
"Fourteen people."
"Let's count sixteen, just to be safe. Will you need my help?"
"No."
"Are you sure?" She raised an eyebrow. He shrugged. Other staff members were arriving, entering through both the front and back doors. "Just call me if you need anything."
But she wasn't really listening anymore. It had been almost four years since she'd seen Colin. She could still recall the last time—the day her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. Every time she glanced at the table by the window, she could picture herself sitting there with Colin on that fateful day. She suspected it was also the day he realized her feelings for him. Fortunately, the cook retired and moved to Florida with his wife, and Penelope took over the kitchen, no longer torturing herself by cleaning that cursed table every day.
She'd made some excuse not to attend his wedding months after that day, and they hadn't spoken since. Penelope unfollowed Colin on social media. She didn't want to know how happy he was, what Christmas was like with his wife, or if they had children. But she'd find out eventually—through Eloise or Violet. Yet Colin never returned to town; the Bridgertons rotated Christmas celebrations, and she'd been lucky so far. Perhaps if she stayed there, chopping vegetables, frying things, they'd come, eat, and leave without her having to face him. Without needing to see him with his wife.
She knew they had arrived because the atmosphere in the place shifted. Waiters came and went, voices outside grew louder, and she could sense the laughter. She didn’t hear it clearly, as even a small restaurant kitchen had its own sounds, but she felt the change in the air. It was always like this when at least three Bridgertons were together.
“They’re asking for you,” Michael entered and stared at her while she stirred the meat sauce.
“I’m swamped up to my neck. Thirteen dishes have to go out together. Tell them I’ll see them later.”
“You can’t hide in the kitchen,” she retorted, placing a hand on her waist and glancing away from the pot to Michael.
“I’m not the one hiding in the kitchen,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair.
“It’s just a silly crush,” Michael leaned against the wall. “Why can’t we act like adults?”
“I am acting. I’m doing my job.”
“Colin’s wife didn’t come, you know?” Penelope stopped stirring the sauce and looked at him.
“She must have had a mishap,” Michael shrugged.
“Is there anything you need me to do? Chop some onions? Wash some strawberries?” Penelope felt sorry for her old friend. If anyone understood her well, it was him.
“Since you’re hiding in my kitchen, make the salads.”
And Michael stayed there until the plates were assembled. Then he sighed and left himself, carrying two trays. The game day made the town bustling, so some out-of-towners were having lunch there, giving her an excuse not to go see them.
“Busy day,” Eloise commented as she plated some spaghetti dishes.
"Hey, Elo. Sorry I didn't come by. But game day, you know how it is."
"I know. But I came to bring greetings from my family to the boss. Everything was spectacular."
"Thank you. Pass on my thanks to everyone. How long are you staying here? Want to have some wine tonight?" She spoke while moving from one corner of the kitchen to another.
"You're too good for this place, you know that, right?" Penelope rolled her eyes. "I never understood why you stayed here. Even Michael agrees."
"Life, Eloise. Life."
"My brother mentioned knowing several restaurants. If you want..." Penelope stared at her friend. "Okay, okay. I have to go now. We're heading to Mom's house. It's one crisis after another in the family."
"Crisis?"
"Babies on the way, sick people, separations, the little rascals going off to college... I'll give you the full gossip later. I'll be at your place around nine, okay?"
"Sure." Eloise hugged her but managed to swipe a strawberry covered in whipped cream and dodged Penelope's playful tap, both of them laughing.
After the Bridgertons left, the crowd gradually thinned out. Michael went to help with the game since he was the coach's assistant. She was always in charge of the cash register when he wasn't around. Harry, the night shift cook, arrived looking annoyed. He hated missing the games, but Penelope couldn't avoid it. She despised them too, and Michael always gave her preference. He understood—they were companions in the same pain. Games brought back many memories. But she decided to leave everything sparkling to welcome the town. She had pent-up energy. She swept the salon floor and started cleaning the tables. Until she reached that table. She scrubbed the surface, trying to block out memories from a game night years ago, but it was in vain. So she decided to end her shift early. Only Nigel, the town drunk, remained at the bar. She stopped in the back of the restaurant and sighed. She took a cigarette from her purse and walked toward the trail through the woods, leading to her favorite spot. When she arrived, she sat on the makeshift bench made of logs that he had built for both of them years ago, allowing herself to sink into the memory of the day everything changed.
She learned that Colin was in town through a message from Eloise. Her shift at the restaurant was starting in half an hour, and she was certain Colin would show up to see her. He always did. He was heading into his final semester of college while Penelope was saving money to start her own. That's why she stayed in their town while almost all her friends and schoolmates left.
A few stragglers remained. Three types: the poor, the unsuccessful, and those who got pregnant during school. Penelope liked to think she fell into the first category. Being poor wasn't a flaw, and she was doing her part. Colin said that when she eventually moved to the city, she could stay with him in his apartment until she got settled. In fact, the last time, he had invited her to join them, to earn money in the city...
And she almost went. Almost. She regretted not going a lot. Because with each of his visits, things seemed to progress a little between them. The last time, he had complimented her new hairstyle and how beautiful she looked in those pinup dresses.
"Pen, you look like you stepped out of a 1960s magazine. Stunning!"
There were other signs too. Colin was becoming much more physical. He touched her often during their conversations, and there was a moment... a moment when he tucked a strand of her hair that had escaped her updo behind her ear. By the heavens, if Hyacinth hadn't interrupted, she was sure they would have kissed.
In recent months, all she could think about was when she would see him again. While he was away at college, they didn't talk as frequently. She worked from Sunday to Sunday, and he was studying, but they always found a little time to send funny videos, recommend books, and check in on each other. Love resides in the small things.
Penelope had loved Colin Bridgerton since she was six years old. It all began when he was riding his bicycle and fell into a ditch after the string of his balloon got caught in his wheel. The other boys laughed and pointed, and she thought he might retaliate because: a) he was a boy, and b) an older boy. But he laughed too. He untangled the balloon string and walked over to her, saying, "Oops, I think I popped your balloon. And my butt. My bad." In that moment, she knew it would be him. And nothing had changed since then, except that now he was a man, and she was a woman, meticulously applying her eyeliner and red lipstick.
And there he was, as expected, just before the lunchtime rush. He sat at the corner table, and something was different about him—she noticed it right away. There was a sparkle in his eyes, and his hair was longer. Penelope approached his table, but before doing so, she caught her reflection in the tray and smiled at her high ponytail swaying and her fitted blue dress. She felt beautiful.
"Look who's back from the dead!" She sat across from him. She knew Michael wouldn't tease her. "You disappeared!"
"Sorry, life has been crazy. But I have something to tell you. And I needed to say it in person." Penelope locked eyes with him. "I've fallen in love, Pen. I met her this semester, and I'm hopelessly in love. I can't wait for you to meet her." And he continued talking about Marina, the wonderful woman he had encountered. Intelligent, fun, independent. He had fallen for her at first sight—her jasper-brown skin and black hair were simply mesmerizing. Penelope stopped listening at some point. Had he met someone? Had he fallen in love? And was he only telling her now? How could he love someone else? He didn't realize... How could he not see what she saw? Until one sentence snapped her out of her trance.
"So we're getting married!"
" MARRIED?" He smiled at her. "But you've only known each other for what? Three months?"
"It's crazy, I know! But why wait? I just know it's her."
"How?" The word slipped from her lips, tears beginning to escape her eyes.
"Pen?"
"How do you know it's her, Colin? You barely know her!"
It came out more bitter than she intended, but she couldn't help it. There was a deathly silence. You could hear a pin drop. Colin watched her carefully, as if seeing her for the first time. And Penelope gazed at the face of the man she'd always loved, knowing it might be the last time. The illusion she'd created shattered for the first time.
"Since when do you smoke?"
Colin's voice caught Penelope off guard. She had been so immersed in that memory that she hadn't even lit the cigarette. It hung from the corner of his mouth like a piece of straw. She took it out and stared at it. She rarely smoked. Then she lifted her head to look at him. Colin seemed more handsome than in her memory. His hair was shorter since the last time, but the stubble gave him an air of adulthood. He was no longer the boy she had loved for so long.
"It's a terrible habit. I'm trying to quit." She lied. He sat across from her.
"Do you have another one?" Penelope was surprised. She reached into her bag and handed him a cigarette and a lighter.
"Since when do you smoke?"
"About a year, give or take. When I started accepting that there was no salvation." He blew out the smoke and looked at her. "You look beautiful, Pen."
She rolled her eyes. She knew she didn't.
"I'm sorry I didn't attend your wedding." He smiled.
"It was a great party. Maybe you'll come to the next one?"
"Are you renewing your vows?"
"We're getting divorced. I moved out about two months ago."
She didn't say anything. She was too surprised. Colin had always believed in marriage. She never imagined him as the type to get divorced. Not this soon. He sat down next to her, their knees touching. He took a drag of the cigarette and then said.
"You know, you should have told me earlier."
"Told you what?"
"That you liked me. All this confusion could have been avoided. I would have married you. We would have been happy together. We always were."
Penelope let out a dry laugh.
"Of course, of course. You never saw me that way, Colin. I was your best friend, not the dateable type."
"I never said that."
"No, but it's the truth. I was the girl who laughed at the other girls chasing after you, but you never thought of me as one of them."
"No, because you were different. I loved you. I just didn't think you had feelings for me. I thought you liked me as you did Eloise."
She rolled her eyes. He continued.
"If you had given any indication before..." He stared at her. "God, everything would be so different! This divorce wouldn't exist because this marriage wouldn't exist."
" So the failure of your marriage is my fault?" He shrugged. "Well, you knew I liked you before marrying her, and you married her anyway."
It was funny, she thought. They hadn't seen each other in years. And he came in like they still talked every day. But as if no time had passed since they were inseparable, Colin seemed to read her mind.
"I missed you. Every single day you weren't there. Marina said I should give you space, of course. But then I didn't know how to come back. I felt too embarrassed. I stalked you daily. After a while, Marina started teasing me about it. I just wanted you back. " He sighed. Penelope stared at the cigarette slowly burning in her hand. "I'm sorry for never realizing. Or not doing anything when I found out."
"What could you have done? You were in love with someone else. Engaged to someone else. You're not to blame for not loving me back."
"But I always loved you."
"Just not in the same way." Colin furrowed his brow.
"I don't know, Pen. After the passion of infatuation faded, all I wanted from my relationship with Marina was for it to be like ours. I couldn't help but compare in my head. Why wasn't it as easy as it was with you? Why couldn't I open up to her like I did with you? 'Marry your best friend' My mother always says that to my sisters. I found myself wondering... what would my life be like if I had married mine?"
"Your marriage ended because she wasn't your best friend?"
"Because she didn't want to be. And I didn't want her to be. I didn't want anyone in your place. I didn't let anyone occupy it."
"You can't just show up here after three years of not talking and spill all this out of nowhere, Colin. Without any intermediary conversation."
"We were never the type to waste time with small talk." He replied, but she continued.
"You don't know what it was like for me. You don't know what it was like to stay here, gathering dust, listening to everyone talk behind my back about what a waste it was... because I didn't know what to do next. Because my plans to move to the city involved you, and an imaginary life I had created based on my illusions... We were such good friends, yet we still couldn't see the truth in each other. I don't think we knew each other that well."
Colin listened silently. She had a trivial thought, wondering how she looked at that moment. Probably terrible. Hair pulled back haphazardly. Face without any makeup. Several extra pounds. Then he threw the cigarette on the ground and extinguished it with his shoe.
"You're right."
He stood up, wiped his hand on his pants, and extended it to her. Penelope stared at him as if he were crazy. He kept his hand extended until she accepted it. She stood up, and he continued holding her hand.
"Hi, I'm Colin Bridgerton. We went to the same school. We used to have lunch together. I always thought you were cute. I'm thirty-two years old. My divorce should be finalized next week, and my apartment is still full of boxes. I'm a bit lost. But I'd like to get to know you better, if you're willing. "
Penelope stared at him. She didn't know what to say.
"I know I probably don't deserve a second chance. Few people do. But I'd like one anyway. I miss having you in my life, and I'd love to meet the person you are now. For anything you want. Dates. Friends hanging out. Colleagues. "
He still gazed at her with those clear eyes.
"Say something, Pen."
She still wasn't sure. But she could see were that would go.
"Hi. I think I remember you. I'm Penelope Featherington. I'm twenty-five years old and work as a cook. I've been thinking about moving and taking a pastry course. I'm single."
"I'm glad to know that." He smiled, and she felt a smile forming in response. It was so silly and so Colin. She missed that. She missed him.
"If it's not too forward on my part, I'd like to invite you to dinner tonight."
"I can't. I have plans."
The "ah" he let out was almost childish and reminded her of her childhood friend.
"But I'll probably be in your town this week. I have interviews at some pastry schools. I'll be staying at my friend's house, but I might have some free evenings. I don't know. I need to check my schedule." She suppressed a smile.
"That's ok. I can wait for you. As long as you need. As long as you want." He smiled. "I think it's my turn to wait."