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It started with a look. A look that Penelope had seen her face wear countless times. But today it was mirrored back by someone she knew very little about. And yet immediately understood her in a way that so few could. Living with unrequited love was a hardship that Penelope would never wish on anyone, even her enemies. Today was an especially hard day. Today he was marrying someone. Someone better suited for his world than she ever would be. She was smiling. It was genuine how happy she was that he was happy. But at the same time, she wanted to run away and never come back. She loved the Bridgertons and they loved her back, though at times it felt like she loved them more than they ever could her. They knew her, but did they know her? She always wondered. She always figured this day would happen. However, what she had not accounted for was a kindred spirit looking longingly at someone they loved unrequitedly.
Michaela.
She had heard the name in passing from Violet and Daphne when composing the guest list of non Bridgertons who were considered family. Penelope was among the few on that list. It was how she was “so lucky” to be sitting at the table next to the family at the reception. So close and yet so far away. Michaela was John’s cousin. John was Francesca’s long term boyfriend that everyone knew would be proposing sooner than later. Penelope had never met Michaela in person as a result, so today was the first time she could see her. And she was beautiful. Dark brown skin that somehow glowed even with the clouds mostly blocking the sun. Braids that flowed down from her head to nearly her waist. The way her smile curled like she knew a secret and was not going to tell you. Her deep brown eyes sparkled when she laughed. And her laugh. Wow, her laugh was like bells chiming, melodic and loud in a way that made her feel warm inside.
However, she also saw how Michaela’s eyes would flicker whenever Frannie was nearby. How she would turn just slightly when John would kiss Frannie. How her gleaming smile faltered whenever Frannie looked in her direction. The mask she so carefully built malfunctioned just for a moment. Penelope was sure no one else saw it. Especially not the Bridgertons. They were infamously blind when it came to love until it smacked them in the face and then they could only see who was within the bubble of love matches. Penelope and Michaela were important to the family, but never the family. It stung more than she wanted to admit. For years, she dreamed of being a part of the family, but the wall became more and more insurmountable and eventually she realized that she did not want to be part of a family that made her feel this way.
But she was here today at his wedding. Smiling and laughing with friends and family in celebration. And she also knew that today would be the last day that she would subject herself to this pain with no one in her corner. She was done. It was too hard. No one saw her. She was a wallflower and everyone left her there to wilt and fade away.
However, they did not know her secret. Penelope was an accomplished author. She just used a pen name to protect herself. To hide from the world her success because she wanted people to see past her shy exterior and learn who she truly was. Her mother only cared if what she did would make her seem more important or fancy or rich. That was not how Penelope lived her life. Being the person on the outside that she felt on the inside was a daily struggle, but she knew that she was living life better than most people. And she was happier for it. It took time but she started making choices for her and her alone, and she was in a good place now. This wedding would’ve been a setback even a year ago. Today she could go in clearheaded and knew that she did not owe anyone anything. Her presence and support was enough and anything more was their problem. She was writing her own story, and this was the last page of a chapter she was happy to be done with.
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The first words Penelope spoke to Michaela were “I love rosé too!” as she sat down in a chair next to her. She immediately wanted to punch herself for that statement. She could’ve gone with literally anything else, but of course, the words sound good in her head and become a terrible mad lib by the end.
Michaela for her credit laughed and coolly replied, “Yes, it’s my go to at weddings when I want to keep my wits about me.”
Penelope coughed a little, trying to recover from Michaela looking at her with so much charm that she felt she needed a fan to cool off. After a moment, Penelope decided to respond with something a bit more sincere to show Michaela that she saw and understood her.
“I get that. Today is a lot for me too.”
Michaela sucked in a breath and her eyes flashed with sadness. Penelope looked back at her and nodded slightly. Michaela put her hand on Penelope’s thigh with a practiced smirk, “Well Penelope, care to dance with me?” But she saw within Michaela’s eyes that her words had been received.
“Of course! I love to dance,” replied Penelope.
“Really? You don’t look like a woman who goes out on the town,” Michaela joked, trying to maintain some of her charm.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she mused with a smirk.
Michaela quietly whispered, almost to herself, “I’d like to learn more.”
Penelope smiled and took her hand and stood up. Michaela, like most people, was taller than Penelope, and it felt nice to stand next to someone who was bigger and feel safe. It was a steady presence that threw Penelope off. Usually she was the steady one and the one who had to be on guard the whole time. It felt safe to hold Michaela’s hand, which terrified her. Hope was a dangerous emotion and Penelope wanted to make sure she did not turn the page to the next chapter and see the same story with a different font appear. For now, Penelope would enjoy dancing with Michaela and end the night as positively as she could.
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The next time Penelope heard from Michaela was three days later.
Unknown: Hi, it’s Michaela. Frannie gave me your number. I hope that’s okay ✨
Penelope: Hi! Yes, that’s fine. Thanks for reaching out 😊 How are you?
Michaela: I’m good. I had fun on Saturday with you. Can we meet for coffee this week?
Penelope looked at her phone and blushed. She was the one who usually reached out to schedule meetups or to see people. It felt nice to be asked for once. She did have a great time on Saturday, much to her surprise, and did not end the night crying like she half-expected. She even told her therapist that her goal for the wedding was to survive and not give a drunken speech, so she exceeded every expectation. She was still nervous about seeing Michaela. Maybe she had read it wrong? Maybe she did not like Penelope and was just flirting because that was what she was known to do?
Penelope had only been with a handful of women, mostly first dates with the occasional kiss. She had always known she found men and women attractive. She just felt too nervous to reveal that to anyone other than Eloise that one drunken night and they kissed to see if they had chemistry 一 they didn’t but they maintained their friendship well enough. Did Michaela even think this was a date? Was she being nice? Was this a prank?..... The spiral lasted for a few minutes when:
Michaela: It’s okay if you don’t want to. I wanted to ask before I left town for a few months on a photography project.
Penelope: What kind of project?
Michaela: I am going to follow a group of scientists studying a specific elephant herd through its yearly migration. I went last year as well.
Penelope: Whoa, that’s amazing 😍
Michaela: Thanks, but don’t think I’m letting you off the hook 😉Coffee?
Penelope typed and re-typed. She almost felt bad because she knew Michaela could see the three dots appear and disappear as she did it. Before she could doubt herself, she decided to be brave and texted
Penelope: Yes, Wednesday at 10am. Store Street Espresso work?
Michaela: Can’t wait 🎉
Michaela: So what are you working on right now? I heard you are an editor and that you write. Anything I would know?
Penelope: I edit mostly biographies. Nothing too salacious. And I only have a draft. Nothing published yet.
Penelope hated lying, but it was still a secret to everyone but her accountant and publisher.
Michaela: Well I’d love to hear about this draft if you’re willing to share
She smiled looking at her phone, this was feeling a little too much like hope, but she was trying to be brave. And being brave meant hoping that this time would not be like the rest. That evening and over the next two days, they texted back and forth, rarely a lull in the conversations. Michaela asked questions just as often as Penelope did. It was unlike any relationship she had ever had: platonic, romantic, familial, etc. Each time she would get a *ding* she would reach for her phone and smile. Texting had become exciting instead of the pit of dread that this would be the text things change. She just had to keep being brave. At least through their coffee hang. Then she could figure out what this was and how she felt about it. And how to inevitably protect herself when it ended. Positive thoughts, she thought to herself, maybe it’ll work out.
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Michaela arrived early. Something she never did. She was the easy-breezy one. The one who cared less. Flirted more. Smiled with ease. But inside, she was so anxious and shy. When she spent too much time alone in her thoughts, the outer shell of confidence cracked and she could not have it crack. Not right now. Not ever. Her family taught her that to be included she had to pretend. Pretend everything was fine. Pretend she did not feel as much as she let on. Pretend she didn’t like girls. Pretend. Pretend. Pretend. Except with John with his quiet steadfastness that let her shell become more true. She was able to find strength to be herself bit by bit. While building a persona and reputation that kept everyone at a distance. She remembered the first time she kissed a girl. The feeling of rightness. Of an answered question. The first time she kissed a girl in public. Of resolve to not hide anymore, but flaunt it. She became the grandiose version of herself that made her untouchable. A whispered rumor. A rakish smile. A hair flip. Everything to be honest with herself but amp it up a million. Take it or leave it. She was who she was. It was harsh but it helped her survive.
Being around John was different. The shield did not crack around him, it smoothed around the edges. Giving her the calm to be more authentically herself without having to be as loud. John gave her a peace that she only found in one other place: behind the camera. The camera was her shield. It was a birthday present when she was a teenager and once she looked through the camera and snapped her first pictures, she was hooked. Being the dark room developing film was just the right amount of quiet to let her soften safely, while giving her something to focus on so her mind did not wander. Taking photos became her way of interacting with the world on her terms instead of performing a version of herself that the world seemed to prefer. She was most noticeable when she was loud. Being quiet gave people room to make judgements and assumptions. Michaela filled in the gaps for them so they did not have to work to “know” her. Traveling the world, taking photographs, also helped. She could bounce around, never going deep with anyone. A new person every night, keeping the quiet away. She feared that if she spent too long by herself, the quiet would consume her and she would be found out. Having someone truly understand her was her biggest fear and her deepest wish. She did not know how to reconcile it so she distracted herself. It worked most of the time until John met Francesca.
Francesca Bridgerton was like the sun shining through parted clouds. A ray of light. She was equally quiet to John, but her quiet confidence made Michaela want to spend more time with her. Michaela had always been fine to flit from one woman to the next, but something about Frannie made her want to stand still. It was a disquieting feeling at first, usually other people made her want to bolt before they asked too many questions. But Frannie, like John, was content to just be around a person. Moreover, whenever Frannie played piano, Michaela felt it in her soul. Classical music was something she always liked, though hearing Frannie play was transcendent. It made Michaela feel like she was floating through time and space, simply existing with no pretense. It was remarkable. It was exhilarating. It was terrifying.
It made Michaela realize she had fallen for her cousin’s girlfriend. She was a total cliche. She did not even know if Frannie was not straight. She hoped maybe bi or queer or pan or something, but she knew that the way Frannie looked at her was not how Frannie looked at John. And it hurt. But not as much as she thought it would. Because seeing John become an even more amazing person because of his love for Frannie and her love for him made Michaela immensely happy. Michaela would wish only the best for John, and Frannie was the best.
So when she was invited to a Bridgerton wedding, she knew she had to attend. Anything for a chance to see Frannie with her family and to see her be happy in another space. Michaela had known there were a lot of them. Eight siblings total. Four boys. Four girls. And the kindest mum she had ever heard about: Violet. A woman fiercely protective of her children and deeply devoted and thoroughly obsessed with them finding their love match. It sounded too good to be true until she met Violet. Her hug was like a drug. Calming and energizing in a way so few hugs were. And the family was so kind and silly and loud that she almost wished she had met them when she was younger. Maybe she would not have had to fill in the space as much with all of them beside her. Moreover, it was so special to see Frannie light up and transform into a different version of herself around each of her family members. It was like looking through a prism and seeing a rainbow with more colors than she knew Frannie had within her. Michaela was glad she attended with John and Frannie. She just did not realize how hard it would be to see them together at a wedding. She looked wistfully at them while they slow-danced when she noticed someone look at her and then look away. She recognized this woman as one of the close family friends sitting at the same table as her. Her hair was a striking red color that glowed like fire under the ambient light. She heard someone call her “Pen,” but she was sure it was a nickname. Before the night was through, she wanted to say hello to another fellow friend of the family. Pen seemed kind and happy, but there was a subtle sadness that marred the tenderness of her gaze. She wondered why. Why was this beautiful woman sad at this wedding? Maybe they could be happy with a twinge of sad together?
Pen sat down next to her while Michaela was sipping her drink watching the couples dance. Pen - Penelope, she learned - asked her about her drink. It was kinda adorable how dorky and earnest the question was. It caught her off guard and made her reply with an equal amount of earnestness. They chatted a little, Michaela feeling a little less morose with Penelope next to her. Michaela wanted to lean into her “persona” but something about Penelope made her feel like she did not have to perform. That all Penelope wanted was authentic conversation. It was all the more intriguing how Penelope looked at the Bridgertons - wistful, yet resigned - like Penelope knew that this wedding was an ending of some kind. But for what or whom? Michaela was not one to think too deeply about the people around her, not in a bad way but in a more “leave before being left” way. Penelope was guarding herself as well, which made Michaela want to be the one to inspire bravery alongside Penelope. And they did. They ended up dancing and chatting the rest of the night, making the day end on a brighter note than she would have guessed. The next day, Penelope lingered in her mind like an open question she did not know she had asked in the first place. Rarely did she think about a person - let alone someone she did not sleep with - the next day. It was not in her nature. It was like meeting Penelope turned the key within her heart and brain that set things in motion she did not even realize until two days later when she asked Frannie for Penelope’s number. Telling some lie that she found her shawl and wanted to return it.
Texting Penelope gave her butterflies. Michaela was an expressive person, but an excited texter she was not. She had worked hard to be the kind of person who was more neutral about things outwardly. It bled into her personality until she was not sure if she was capable of that kind of unbridled joy in her personal relationships. She could be excited when she captured a particularly elusive photo, but outside of that, she was loud when she had to be or stoic. It served her well until Penelope completely disarmed her. Michaela genuinely wanted to text Penelope and for Penelope to respond. She asked questions and tried to keep the conversation going. They scheduled a coffee hang (date?) and she was now waiting. She arrived 15 minutes early. Probably a record for her, but she could not wait to see Penelope again. It had only been five days since the wedding, but those five days had been filled with thoughts about Penelope.
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Five minutes before their scheduled meet up time, the doorbell ding’ed and Michaela looked to see Penelope standing there holding her purse tightly to her body looking around. Michaela wondered what made Penelope so guarded and was already grateful she had seen a bit beyond her shield. She hoped today they might become even more comfortable. Michaela wanted to move on from Frannie and while she did not know if Penelope was into girls, it still felt like a sign that maybe someone else could capture her attention and maybe even her heart one day. It was all so raw, but last weekend something shifted in her where she felt sadness at being in love with her cousin’s girlfriend and also a glimmer of “there’s more out there to discover.” Not in the way of discovering the world (she’s already done a lot due to her job) but more to discover within herself. Like there was another version of her waiting to come out if a new person came along. And now here was Penelope standing in front of her like a beacon of hope.
“Penelope! Hi!” Michaela waved as Penelope made eye contact, giving her a small wave back.
“Michaela, hello,” Penelope shyly smiled. She looked both beautiful and cute in a black floral mini dress with a pink cardigan. Michaela went for more of her classic t-shirt, jeans, leather jacket vibes. Sometimes she wished she was daring enough to try some new styles, but she liked the protection her outfit gave her.
“Do you want anything to drink? I can go grab us something,” Michaela offered.
“Um, sure. I’ll take a latte with almond milk.”
“Cool, be right back.”
Michaela watched Penelope sitting there as she ordered and waited for their drinks. Penelope was looking around and picking at her cardigan. At one point, she looked at her phone and frowned. Hopefully everything was okay. If she has to leave, that’s okay, Michaela reminded herself. This was not a date per se, this was just a chance to get to know someone new. At least that was what she kept trying to tell herself. Be open. Try something different for once. She was leaving town anyway in four days, so this was nothing she had not done before. Get close to someone and then leave right after and immediately fade away. Whether by choice or by circumstance, she chose not to think too deeply. It was easier to not think when she was making out with someone, but she was trying not to scratch that itch right now. Penelope was here, and she had to make the most of it.
“Here you go,” placing the two mugs on the table. Michaela watched Penelope take a small sip and let out a small moan. Something that affected her more than she cared to admit. But first, small talk, basic “getting to know you” questions.
“So how long have you known the Bridgertons?” she asked.
Penelope coughed for a moment, “Oh, um, it’s been years. Nearly 15 now I think. And John is your cousin, right?”
“Wow, that’s a long time. You must have tons of stories about them. And yes, he’s my cousin and my best friend.”
“Yeah, they’ve been great over the years, but you know life continues,” Penelope shrugged.
Michaela decided not to press, “So what do you like to do for fun, Penelope?” Her name rolled off her tongue with a bit more flirt than she intended, though it was worth it to see Penelope’s cheeks redden with a deep blush. Michaela wondered if she would be able to feel the heat emanating from Penelope’s cheeks if she were to kiss them.
“I read and write mostly. I like to go to random coffee shops in new-to-me neighborhoods and sit and people-watch. Sometimes I do that in the park when it’s nice enough outside…What about you? I know you’re a photographer, but anything else?”
Michaela gulped, she was not really sure what to say because most of the time she was not working, she was bouncing between women. “I like running.”
“Really, why?” Penelope blurted out before covering her mouth with a laugh. It made Michaela chuckle at how much she was laughing.
“It gets me out of my head. And it’s a way to explore where I am staying.” And because Michaela was still a flirt could not help but add with a smirk, “Plus it keeps me fit.”
Penelope stopped laughing and looked down with another blush. Interesting, Michaela thought to herself. She definitely seemed affected, maybe she was queer? Michaela had decent gaydar for women, but usually it was at a club and people were drinking. Here in the light of day sitting in a well-lit coffee shop with dozens of people around felt very exposing.
The conversation carried on with some mild flirting (she tried to rein it in), a lot of questions and answers between the two, with the occasional laugh. All in all, one of the best true conversations Michaela had had in years with someone new. Honestly may have been the most she spoke to someone who she did not work with in years as well.
“Thanks for meeting me, I had a lot of fun,” Michaela offered as Penelope stood up to leave.
“I did too, can we keep texting while you’re away? I’d love to hear about your adventures.”
“Yeah, of course. Though only if you tell me more about what you’re writing.”
“Deal,” Penelope stuck her hand out and Michaela put her hand out too to shake on it. The phantom touch of Penelope’s hand lingered on her for hours after they parted. It prompted her to even send an afternoon text asking how she was. It felt like the start of something real. For once in her life she was more excited by that prospect than terrified.
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It started slowly. Almost so slowly that neither of them noticed what was happening. Michaela had never been a consistent texter so this was all new to her. A few texts during the day, sharing funny anecdotes, cute animals, and yummy food. Then it was a check in after a long meeting. A text making sure they remembered to eat. Or to take a break. A funny gif she found looking up random words on a break. Weird sloth. Drunk kitten. Cuddle puddle. Things that were both meaningless and meaningful. It was like a flower taking years to take root and suddenly blooming. The color washed over her life and by the time she realized it happened, they were totally enmeshed in each other’s lives. She knew Penelope’s favorite day to wash her sheets - Tuesday - or how her coffee order changed depending on her mood and the weather. When she laughed at something someone said at work knowing that Penelope would find it amusing. When she casually brought her up to John on their biweekly video chat and she smiled a little too big so John asked about Penelope the next time they talked.
Michaela remembered the day that Penelope texted her a simple text that stopped her heart.
Penelope: I like you ☺️
It had been a response to something funny and in Michaela’s head, she pictured Penelope with her sweet smile looking at her, saying that with a bit of a kind flirt. But it made Michaela’s stomach do somersaults. It meant something and Michaela was determined to dig deeper. To get Penelope to say that to her and not shrink away for fear of rejection. That Penelope would feel confident to say it and know that Michaela would say it back. And she would. She will. She did.
Michaela Sterling liked Penelope Featherington.
The sense of peace she felt, while wondering if it should have made her scared, but after months of slowly opening herself up to Penelope, someone so strong and resilient who just needed to show the world how amazing she was, made sense. Michaela purported a lot of things and fled from the inside world. Penelope made her more introspective, so Michaela had started to seek out alone time. Her thoughts felt less big knowing that Penelope was only a text or video call away. There was a safety in being known, being seen, being appreciated.
However, they had the barrier of technology. It kept a distance that would soon be ending. Michaela was heading home and asked Penelope if she could come over for a movie night. They had chatted about favorite movies before and had a lot of overlap. The idea of seeing Penelope for the first time in person in front of people made Michaela nauseated so she suggested a movie. She had no idea what to expect, but the butterflies in her stomach gave her hope that the positive feelings she had been feeling for Penelope would only continue.
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Penelope was at her flat, panic cleaning like she had been for the last three hours. Michaela flew back to London yesterday and was coming over tonight to watch movies and eat all the food she missed while on her wildlife photography job. They had texted a lot over the last few months, and Penelope could not stop smiling whenever she got a text. Gen and Edwina joked with her about her “secret admirer” and while Penelope could not doubt her feelings for Michaela, she was still nervous. She was still Penelope Featherington, the girl who fell in love with all the wrong people. Penelope had felt like she had been a bit too obvious a few times, but Gen told her that maybe Michaela did not know. So tonight she was determined to tell Michaela about her feelings. Hopefully requited. At least it felt that way. Michaela’s go to mode was flirting, but it felt deeper with Penelope. She could almost feel the lingering stares through the phone. It made Penelope feel alive. And at the same time like she wanted to disappear never to be seen again. Hence the panic cleaning. She was not sure if it was helping but it was not not helping so she kept it up. Until she heard the buzz of the door sound.
“Penelope?” Michaela called out as Penelope opened the door. Michaela was standing there with a bottle of rosé - practically an inside joke at this point for them - and some flowers.
“Aww, flowers? So sweet, thank you,” Penelope beamed, letting Michaela walk into the flat.
Michaela was standing so close to her that she could feel her heat emanating off of her. It made Penelope’s hands itch to touch her. She focused on putting the flowers in a vase to compose herself before turning back to Michaela.
Penelope sat next to Michaela and could practically see the zaps of electricity between them. The first half of the movie passed in a blur as they somehow moved even closer together. So close she could feel Michaela’s breath in her ear. There was no way she was misreading the signals, right? Penelope decided to be brave and took Michaela’s hand in hers.
“Mic?”
“Yeah, Pen?”
Penelope looked deep into Mic’s eyes and all she saw was warmth and trust. She took her other hand and brushed Mic’s hair behind her ear as they both leaned forward. The moment that Penelope’s lips touched Mic’s it was like finding that perfect word for a sentence. When you can finally see the big picture and know that life has a funny way of bringing people into your life when you are ready and need them the most. How kissing the right person made you realize how wrong kissing anyone else felt. The depth of her feelings for Mic coursing through her body. All of their texting and flirting and banter and months of slowly opening up to each other to reveal their truest selves led up to this moment.
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When they told their love story to their children, they had some debate over who kissed whom first. Penelope said she started it because she took her hand, while Michaela said she leaned in to kiss Penelope first. They always kissed at the end of the story, snuggling into each other’s arms. But what they agreed on always was that they both knew from that first kiss that they would never have eyes for anyone else. All it took was a subtle glance to see their love.