Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun shone bright on their faces. Jane’s hand was limp in Penelope’s as she chattered endlessly. Penelope had to force herself to focus on her daughter’s words though it is difficult because they are very similar to the words she spoke that morning and the day before and the day before that and every day since she watched that YouTube video about the Saturn V rocket. 

“The thrusters come out in the ascent stage.” Jane’s voice is chipper. “Then it leaves the descent stage on the lunar surface.”

“I remember, darling. How was school?” Penelope hoped they might change the topic, but she already knows that her attempt is in vain.

“Good. And then the ascent stage leaves the moon and meets the service module.” 

“Did you see Mrs. Campbell today?”

“No. The command module has a heat shield.” 

“Why not?”

“No, Mummy. It does have a heat shield!” 

They paused on the sidewalk and Penelope turned to her daughter. The girl looks everywhere but at her mother. Penelope holds up her hands in front of her face. 

“Focus on me, Jane,” she said slowly, frustrated that she had to beg her daughter for eye contact. “Why didn’t you see Mrs. Campbell today?”

“Miss Brooks said she’s sick.”

Penelope relaxed a bit. The brutal year of reception had left Penelope in a state of vigilance. Of course, the posh private school Anthony had insisted on didn’t purposely keep Jane’s occupational therapist from her. She only wished Mrs. Campbell had thought to email her about rescheduling her session. 

Penelope turned, took Jane’s hand and they resumed their walk home.

Penelope tried to do it on her own. She tried to resist the Bridgertons’ money as much as possible, but after Jane’s diagnosis and the failure at the state funded reception, Penelope had no choice. 

She first began to suspect something was different when she would come to her mother’s home to pick Jane up after work and Portia would point to Jane with a worried expression on her face. Telling Penelope that the three year old spent the entire afternoon pacing back and forth muttering about butterflies and their colors. 

“Mona’chs owange. S’wawwowtail bwack.” She said over and over as her little feet padded on Portia’s pristine white carpet. 

Then she wouldn’t eat strawberries. She had one that was too mushy and it ruined the entire fruit for her. 

One winter Violet bought her a lovely coat but Jane refused to touch it. 

“Too soft!” she cried and ran when Penelope tried to put it on her. 

Perhaps reception would be good for her, Penelope thought. It would be good to be around other children. 

The Bridgertons tried then to get her to accept their offer to pay for tuition to a private school, but Penelope refused. She was raised in those schools and didn’t enjoy her time in their rigid conformity. She didn’t do well with the bullying either. 

She was never quite enough to fit in with those kids and it was only her friendship with Eloise and Colin that protected her from the worst of it. They were the proper type of rich while everyone knew that Penelope’s family was barely hanging on.

She wanted Jane to have a more rounded experience, to meet different types of people. But in the end there were only meltdowns at drop off and getting calls throughout the day that Jane ran from the lunchroom because it was too loud.

What stung the most is that it was Daphne who pulled her aside and said that she might want to get Jane evaluated. She smiled tightly while swallowing the lump in her throat while listening to Daphne’s loving concerns. Daphne Bassett with her perfect husband, perfect children, and perfect life. 

Penelope knew that Daphne loved Jane. That she was kind and sweet and never judged her but a voice deep inside her head (that sounded suspiciously like her mother) said that the woman pitied Penelope. The single mother of a fatherless child who was barely scraping by on her own. 

The doctors said it wasn’t anything Penelope had done. It was likely genetic. Portia scoffed and said Jane probably got it from her father’s side. But Penelope remembered how, as a child, she couldn’t touch her mother’s beauty products—if even one was out of place, Portia’s entire day was ruined.

Penelope gave up her pride then for the sake of her daughter. Anthony Bridgerton used his connections to get Jane a quick evaluation and then offered to pay for the private school. 

Year 1 at Haverleigh Prep had been so much better. The smaller classrooms, the 1 on 1 assistant she received for some activities. She was able to take her lunch in a quieter area with other children who were sensitive to noise like her. 

There were always new rules to learn, new ways the world seemed to overwhelm her daughter. And just when they found one strategy to help Jane, one thing that made life a little easier—her daughter changed and Penelope had to figure out something different.

Jane chatted along about the different stages of the Saturn V rocket, Penelope tuned some of it out for her own sanity and went through their weekend plans in her head. Today was Jane’s afternoon tea with Violet, Charlotte, and Belinda. Tomorrow she met her mother and sisters and their children and Sunday was brunch with the entire clan. 

Penelope was so distracted that she didn’t hear the buzzing of her phone in her purse that hung across chest. She didn’t realize that she had several missed calls from Violet, Kate and Daphne. 

“You’re tired, Mummy,” Jane said, without looking up from the pavement.

Penelope smiled. “How can you tell?”

“Your voice is lower pitched when you’re tired.”

She laughed softly to herself, always forgetting out much Jane observed.

Her shoulders ached from holding tension all day. It had become her default posture: half-defensive, half-braced.

When she arrived at Violet’s home, she let herself in as she always did. 

“Violet! We’re here!” She called out like she did every week. 

“Grandma!” Jane said, running through to the living room just as the older woman came out. Penelope saw the worried expression on her face. 

Jane rushed to Violet with excitement and jumped about excitedly. She didn’t hug very often, but allowed Violet to take her hands. 

“Jane, my love,” she said smiling. “How was your day? Do you still like your new school?”

“Yes! I like the media center. They have a huge poster of the solar system.” 

Violet looked up at Penelope and cocked an eyebrow.

“It’s what they call the library,” Penelope explained. 

“Oh, well things certainly have changed since my little ones were in primary.”

Hyacinth only recently started university, but it seemed that as soon as Violet’s children left school she had a small gaggle of grandchildren that started. 

Jane began reciting all of her knowledge about the rocket unprompted. Violet had heard all of these facts the week before and looked over her head to fix Penelope with a worrying stare. 

“Did you see my call?” Her voice was soft.

Penelope shook her head. “Sorry, I left the phone on silent after the meeting at her school and she’s been talking the entire walk home, I—”

Violet shook her head and cut off Penelope. “I understand, dear, but we have a visitor.”

Penelope blanched. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you need to cancel?”

She couldn’t help the bit of apprehension in her voice. Jane did not do well with abruptly changed plans. 

Luckily, they were past the point when these things would ruin the rest of their day. It might make the walk home a bit unbearable, but survivable. 

Kate rushed into the foyer with Charlotte in tow. Charlotte was the same age as Jane, but Kate’s exact duplicate. 

“Charlotte!” Jane said excitedly. “The Saturn V rocket has three main stages, the first stage has five engines.” 

“I don’t care,” Charlotte said, annoyed. Jane was unfazed. 

“Charlotte,” Kate hissed. “Be nice.” 

“That’s all she talks about,” the girl said.

Kate gave Penelope a pleading look and Penelope shook her head. She understood Charlotte’s frustrations. Jane was often praised by the adults in the family for her ability to memorize so many facets of her interests and for her massive vocabulary, but she failed to connect with the other children her age.  

Charlotte was a smart girl, but many of the things Jane spoke of went over her head. She was an average five year old girl who wanted to play with dolls, draw and watch princess movies. Jane liked to watch documentaries on offshore wind farms and the same damn video about the Saturn V over and over. 

Penelope hoped that Jane might temper out a bit as she grew older and that Charlotte may become more sympathetic. She hoped the girls might find something that they had in common one day and be friends. 

Belinda was a few years older than the two and more patient with Jane. 

“We tried to call you, Penelope.” Kate said in a hushed tone. Tension filled the air and Penelope looked worriedly between the two women. 

“Is something wrong? We can do this another day.”

“No!” Jane said far too loudly. 

“Softer voice,” Penelope said in the calming tone she had to use when Jane became upset. 

Kate opened her mouth to answer Penelope when a voice sounded from the direction of the library. 

“Who else is here?” It was a voice that Penelope hadn’t heard in over five years but it was definitely one she would never forget. She tried to, so often did she try to train herself not to dream of it.

Her first instinct was to leave. To pick up Jane and run out the door, but she was rooted to the spot. Her blood turned to ice in her veins. Her breathing was coming quicker. 

“Wait!” Daphne’s voice rang out. “Mother and Kate will join us in a minute,” 

Penelope understood now. Daphne was in charge of distracting him while Violet and Kate warned Penelope so that she may leave. 

She glanced at the women whose faces had also paled. Violet reached for her hand. “Everything will be well, dear. Do not worry. Take a breath.” 

Penelope nodded and did so. The breath fortified her and she was able to hold her head high when he stepped into the foyer. He was older, his eyes were wary, he looked much more lucid than the last time she saw him. 

He stopped abruptly when he saw her. The past lingered between them and for a moment she wondered if he might be the one to flee. The silence between the adults in the hall was deafening. The children talked and argued, but it all faded into a dull roar in the back of Penelope’s mind.

“Pen.” It was almost a whisper. That name brought back far too many memories. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. But she smiled tightly. 

“Hello, Colin.”

“Hello! I’m Jane Featherington. Who are you?” 

Penelope exhaled and closed her eyes. Her daughter never met a stranger. She was like her father in that aspect. She could start up a conversation with a waitress and spend forty five minutes regaling her with information about whatever she was into that week.

“This is my son, Colin,” Violet told her, trying to diffuse the tension in the room. “He’s been away for a very long time.” 

“Is he my uncle too? Like Anthony and Ben and Greg?”

Colin cocked an eyebrow at the question. Violet glanced up at Penelope who gave her a short nod. 

“Yes, Just like them,” Violet said smiling. 

Daphne rushed into the hall, out of breath. Her very rounded belly obviously slowed her down. She mouthed I’m sorry behind his back but Penelope gave her a small smile and shook her head. 

Colin squatted and reached a hand out to Jane. “It’s nice to meet you, Jane.” 

The four women watched with breath held to see what would happen. To see what Jane would do. Penelope feared that Jane wouldn’t respond. Or would say something inappropriate or randomly off topic. 

Jane looked cautiously from his face to his hand. She shook it violently and laughed at the way he let his arm go limp so she could swing it up and down. 

Colin gave a half smile and Penelope felt her heart tug. He looked so much like he did years ago. Before the parties, the drinking, the drugs and the heartbreak. 

Now he was playfully shaking hands with the girl who he had no idea was his daughter.

Chapter Text

Everyone sat together in the living room. Penelope could not reasonably get out of the afternoon. Violet’s granddaughter tea now extended to their mothers and Colin, who sat out of the way and let his mother interact with the girls. 

If he thought it was strange that Jane called Violet ‘Grandma’ he did not show it. Penelope wondered if he knew. If the Bridgertons had told him, but no. Colin wouldn’t be here calmly watching the kids chatter while eating biscuits with his mother if he knew. 

But as Penelope looked closer, she could see the telltale signs of nervousness. His hands were fidgeting. His eyes darted about the room. She tried to avoid his gaze, but he caught her more than once before quickly darting his eyes away. 

Colin looked better. He gained some weight. His pupils weren’t dilated so badly that she couldn’t see his iris. His brow wasn’t covered in sweat. 

She wondered for a moment if he was better. Truly. But then she remembered every time her father came home looking like a brand new man only to be gone weeks later, a few pieces of her mother’s jewelry gone with him. 

She saw his eyes land on Jane and it made her nervous. She hoped that he only saw how the shade of her hair matched Penelope’s rather than how her eyes were the same color as his. She hoped that he didn’t notice how Jane tilted her head exactly like Violet, but how she scowled like Portia when she was deep in thought. 

Penelope noticed how Violet kept stealing glances at her son while interacting with her granddaughters. Worried looks that Colin pretended not to see. 

Violet’s worried glances tugged at a memory Penelope had tried to bury. It was after their night together, but before she knew about Jane. 

She thought he was better. That the night they shared while he was lucid and clean was the end of that era. 

But when she spoke to him on the phone, he was skipping over his words, breathing heavily. She could hear the crackle of him switching the cell phone from ear to ear as he couldn’t sit still. 

Penelope cried so hard that night. Because she knew. She knew it would be just like her father; Sober and full of promises one moment, gone the next. 

He wanted to see her, but she couldn’t. For once in her life she had to put herself first. She had to break her own heart and tell Colin Bridgerton that he couldn’t come to her flat until he stopped partying for good.

Then she hadn’t heard from him for almost six years. 

Now he sat in his mother’s living room having painfully stilted conversation with his family and Penelope. 

For God’s sake Daphne was talking about the weather. It’s London. It’s grey and cloudy every damn day.

One thing Penelope knew about Colin was that he hated pity. He hated awkward silences. He hated being tiptoed around. As children, he was often the one stepping back to make room for others, helping everyone else feel comfortable. 

Perhaps that was something that led to his problems. The feeling of inadequacy. 

It had been six long years. Penelope’s anger had faded, she wanted her friend back and this Colin looked so similar to the boy she fell in love with. 

The silence stretched. Colin shifted in his seat. Violet poured tea as if it might save them all.

Penelope’s stomach twisted — someone had to say something. She wasn’t brave enough to ask about rehab or recovery. But maybe she could do this.

“Why are you wearing a henley?” she blurted.

Colin’s face blanched for a moment, several emotions flickering across his face before he gave her a slight smile. 

“What’s wrong with my shirt?” 

“We used to make fun of guys in pubs wearing henleys.” She reminded him. 

“Theirs were too tight,” Colin explained. “They were clearly just trying to show off their biceps and pick up women.” 

“Or men,” Penelope clarified. “Don’t be exclusive! We also made fun of the buttons. What is the point of those three little buttons except to be slutty?” 

Colin barked a laugh then, his grin genuine. Out of the corner of her eye, Penelope could see Violet give a teary smile. 

For a second, it was just them again. Not the past, not the years between. Just Pen and Colin laughing at someone’s bad shirt at a bar.

The memory hit her so sharply it almost hurt.

“What does slutty mean?” 

Penelope exhaled. Of course Jane wouldn’t let that slide. She had to know everything. 

Colin’s face blushed while Kate and Daphne hid smiles behind their hands. The three girls looked to Penelope expecting an answer. 

“Good luck with that,” Daphne whispered through a laugh. 

“It’s an adult word,” Penelope explained. 

“Then why did you say it around me?” Jane asked, not allowing her to get away from the topic. 

“Mummy wasn’t paying attention. It slipped.” 

Jane frowned. “Don’t say adult words around kids, Mummy.” 

Violet blinked too quickly, as if the laughter was a relief she didn’t quite deserve. “Let’s listen to Charlotte finish her story,” She said, redirecting the girls back to their tea party. 

Penelope glanced at Colin to see him watching the girls, a lightness to his shoulders that wasn’t there before. 

“She’s a smart one,” he said softly.

“Terrifyingly so,” Penelope replied.

The others had moved into the dining room to refresh the teapot, leaving the two of them momentarily alone. The quiet felt heavy.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said.

“I wasn’t expecting you to ever come back,” Penelope said before she could think about it. 

He nodded, eyes on his hands. “Yeah. Me neither.”

For a few beats, neither of them spoke. The air hummed with unasked questions. Where he’d been, who he was now, what she’d done while he was gone.

“You look good, Pen.”

“You look alive,” she said before she could stop herself.

His mouth twitched. “That’s something, I guess.”

“Sorry,” She murmured, looking away embarrassed. 

“Don’t be,” he said. “You’re the only one saying what everyone else is thinking.”

The silence stretched between them for a moment. She could feel it coming. Colin inhaled. 

“So…Jane’s father…” He trailed off as if he wasn’t sure how to finish the question.

“It’s just us.” Penelope said, putting him out of his misery. Colin nodded. The finality in her voice didn’t allow for further questions.

“Pen, I…” his voice trailed. “Can we get coffee sometime? To talk?” 

Penelope swallowed, looking away from him for a moment. Did he suspect? Did he know? These questions were the ones haunting her. The even more present question was Should she tell him?

Instead of pondering any of those questions, she nodded stiffly. 

“I’d like that.” 

Colin breathed a sigh of relief at her answer. 

Penelope forced a small smile, wondering how long she could keep the truth contained.

Colin shut the bathroom door behind him too heavily. He flinched. He didn’t mean for it to slam. He just needed to get away from them. 

They all watched him like he was a ticking time bomb. Like he was going to explode and relapse at any moment. Like he had a fucking spoon and lighter in his pocket, waiting to whip it out when they took their eyes off him for one moment. 

Colin braced his hands on the side of the counter and inhaled. He remembered Dr. Shah’s lessons. He looked for five things he could see. Taps. Toilet Paper. Hand Soap. Mum’s stupid decorative towels that we’re not allowed to use to dry our hands. Rug.

He turned the cold water tap on full blast and drank handfuls of water as he poured out. 

There was a soft knock at the door. He resisted the urge to scream. 

Colin wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve and opened the door. Benedict stood in the hall looking wary. 

“You alright?” He asked. 

Benedict was the easiest to be around. He had been in the party scene, but unlike Colin, he had been able to quit. Colin knew he felt guilty. Colin felt guilty for making Ben feel guilty. It was a vicious cycle of guilt. 

“Yeah,” Colin said. “I just needed a breather.” 

Benedict nodded. “Just checking. Come down for dinner when you’re ready.” 

Colin would never be ready, but he followed his brother downstairs. 

The large dining room was bustling with energy. It was a big “Welcome Home” family dinner for Colin. As if he had come back from a trip. (At least that’s what they told the younger children.)

They all pretended that not having wine with dinner was a normal occurrence. Colin pretended that he didn’t notice his mother locking up the scotch that morning. 

Really, he was thankful for it. It was better to have the temptation completely removed than to have to wrestle with himself. But it wasn’t as if he couldn’t drive down to the store and purchase his own. Temptation was never too far away. 

The family was so careful around him, they tiptoed around topics and avoided certain subjects.

He felt so out of place around them. That wasn’t a new feeling for him. It was one of the many things discussed in therapy at the fancy, Georgian style manor rehab in the countryside. 

He didn’t belong anywhere and he tried to hide that pain. 

“You’re not broken. You’re just wired for escape. You need better exits.”

Dr. Shah’s words on his first day in the clinic had stayed with him. She had seen through him so effortlessly. There was only one other person he felt seen with and she was keeping him at arm’s length. 

Penelope Featherington was a ghost that haunted him these past few years, always reminding him of what he could have had if he hadn’t been an idiot. 

She deserved better than him. She deserved better than an addict. 

“Are Aunt Pen and Jane coming?” Belinda asked. 

Belinda had been a baby when Colin last saw her. It was a perfect reminder of how much he had missed. There were new children in the family. Even Penelope had a daughter. But no one mentioned the father. 

Penelope said it was just them. But who was the father? Who could abandon Penelope and her beautiful daughter?

Colin tried to fight through hazy memories to try and recollect if there was ever a man around Penelope all those years ago. If during the few times he saw one of his siblings over the past five years they mentioned a boyfriend. 

But he couldn’t recollect anything. 

He remembered the night they spent together. It was something that would never leave him. A lucid memory in a haze of drug induced mania. It was the first time he had gone sober, when he thought he could do it alone. He thought he could just take one pill, one drink and leave it. When he thought he was in control. 

So lost in his thoughts that Colin at first didn’t notice the way everyone stiffened and quieted at the mention of Penelope. They all looked at him and each other. 

Fuck. Did they know? Did they know he broke her heart and in turn his own? Would she have told them? He glanced at Eloise who was idly pushing her food around on her plate. If Penelope told anyone about the night they spent together, it would have been Eloise. 

“She was busy tonight,” Daphne said, too quickly. Closing the subject. Colin suspected it was a lie. Maybe Penelope had declined after their awkward afternoon. From the looks of things, she and Jane had become part of the family in his absence—but then, Penelope had always been an honorary Bridgerton. Eloise had been dragging the little redhead around since they were children.

Colin never minded. Penelope’s presence was always a balm to his overactive mind, a grounding force that steadied him. 

He ruined their friendship with his own problems and he wanted nothing more than to get that back. 

Well, that was a lie. He wanted more than forgiveness. The memory of her—her voice, her warmth, the way she’d looked at him that night—still lived in the quiet corners of his mind.

He was greedy and he wanted that, but he knew it would be a long road. He first had to regain her friendship, her trust. It was another entry on the long list of reasons that he should stay sober. 

And Jane. 

Now Penelope had a beautiful, bright, carbon copy of her. Colin had immediately felt drawn to her, he supposed it was because she reminded him so much of Penelope. Although she was a bit lankier than her mother ever was. Jane was likely to be taller than Penelope one day. The thought made him smile. 

“What’s got you grinning?” Anthony asked him. Colin blinked. He had been so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize that the family kept up their conversations around him. Anthony was sitting to his left. Sophie was on his right, but in conversation with Benedict. Gregory and Simon were arguing good naturedly about Arsenal and Chelsea across from him. No one seemed to be paying attention to Anthony and Colin. 

“I met Jane today,” Colin said casually. He didn’t miss how his brother’s eyes widened at the statement. 

“I was just thinking how she looks almost exactly like Penelope did as a child.” 

Anthony’s shoulders relaxed. He nodded and gave Colin a small smile. 

“She does. She’s very intelligent. She goes to Haverleigh Prep with Charlotte and Belinda. Her instructors speak highly of her.” 

Anthony resumed eating his roast, but Colin frowned. 

“Penelope hated private school,” Colin said. “I never thought she’d send her daughter to one.”

Anthony hesitated, chewing slowly. “Well, Jane…needs a bit of extra support. Haverleigh provides that.”

“Support?”

“You met her,” Anthony said, still avoiding eye contact.

“And she seemed perfectly normal. Brilliant, even.”

Anthony sighed, setting down his fork with a quiet clink. Kate shot him a look, but he went on. “Jane has autism,” he said softly, like the word itself might crack something open. “Some things come easy, some don’t.”

“Huh,” Colin said as he thought back to his brief interaction with the girl. He had to admit to himself that he knew very little about autism. The word conjured up images of mute children lining up toy trains by color or the movie about the pianist.

But then his thoughts were brought back to Anthony. 

“How do you know so much about her?” Colin asked curiously. Anthony shrugged as if it were no big deal. 

“Penelope is practically a sister. Jane’s basically another niece.” 

Colin nodded. He supposed he should take that answer for the truth, but it didn’t match up completely. Anthony was at university during the years when Penelope came around the most. Then he moved out on his own. 

The practically a sister line might have worked if said by Benedict, but not Anthony. Unless Penelope had grown closer to his family in the years he was away. 

Colin decided to let it slide. 

“Colin,” his mother said from her place down the table. She smiled cautiously. “Are you alright?”

Colin nervously looked around at the other occupants at the table. 

“Yeah, Mum. No issues here.” He speared a piece of roast and put it in his mouth as if to emphasize his point. 

Violet smiled tightly. “We were just surprised to see you. Especially, so…well.” 

Colin frowned. “I assumed Anthony would have told you when I was getting out.” 

Anthony stiffened beside him. 

“Getting out of where?” Eloise asked pointedly. “We don’t know where you were.” 

“Prison, obviously.”

Silence. No one laughed.

“Kidding,” he said, voice flat. “Rehab. Very posh, really like a spa, if spas searched your room for contraband and locked the doors at night.” 

He looked again at Anthony. His brother wouldn’t meet his gaze. 

“Anthony didn’t tell you?” Colin asked his family cautiously. “He helped me get in there. That’s where I’ve been for the past two months.” 

The table was silent. It was Daphne who finally spoke. 

“Colin,” Her voice was cautious. She was the peacekeeper of the family. “It’s not unheard of for us not to hear from you for months at a time.” 

Colin felt a pain in his chest. He knew it was his fault. Everything he missed, his family’s worry. It was all his fault. But knowing it was his own fault didn’t make it sting any less.

“But I thought Anthony might have told you I was in rehab.” 

The family glanced at Anthony who stared at his plate. The silence in the room was deafening. Colin was glad that the children ate informally in the smaller playroom. 

Anthony inhaled. “I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.” 

The words were quiet and the silence that followed was deafening. 

Of course. Anthony never told anyone that Colin had finally reached out and wanted help. 

Colin didn’t want to die under a bridge. Didn’t want to miss anymore of his family’s life. Didn’t want to be that distant, weird uncle. The family fuck up. 

But it didn’t matter. He was a fuck up. They all stared at him like they expected him to fail. Maybe he would.

Maybe he should just speed up the process and save them all some time. If his own family didn’t have faith in him, who would?

He felt that tingling in the back of his neck. 

Play the tape to the end.

Dr. Shah’s voice said in his head. One drink. One hit. And he would be back in that life. Waking up on a dirty, piss stained mattress in someone’s basement, passed out in the tube, in the hospital with a nurse who’s seen her fair share of junkies. 

He exhaled slowly and not for the first time since detox, he thought of Penelope. He remembered her laughter. Her smile. Now he thought of her little girl. He wanted to be a better man to have her back in his life. 

And for himself. He didn’t like himself when he was using. 

He didn’t like himself most of the time, but it was worse then. 

Colin noticed that the entire family was staring at him. His hands clenched on the end of the table. He stood up abruptly and everyone startled. 

Colin hated it. Hated what they thought of him. 

“I’m going to step out for some air,” he said before walking abruptly out to the back garden. 

Colin stepped out onto the back terrace, his hands trembling. The air was damp with the smell of rain, and he leaned against the cold stone balustrade. His phone was already in his hand before he thought about it.

He scrolled to Dr. Shah’s number and pressed call. She picked up on the second ring.

“Colin?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I— I just needed to hear someone who doesn’t already expect me to fail.” His voice cracked more than he wanted.

There was a pause, and then her calm tone: “Tell me what happened.”

“They’re all braced for me to crash again. My mother, my brothers and sisters. They look at me and they don’t see me—they see rehab, relapse, risk.”

“Does that make you want to use?”

He let out a shaky laugh. “It makes me want to prove them wrong so badly that it almost hurts. And yeah, part of me wants to quiet it all down the old way. Just one drink, one hit.”

“Did you?” 

“I didn’t. I called you.”

“That was the right choice. Tell me what you can do right now to ground yourself.”

Colin closed his eyes and forced himself to name things. “The stone rail under my hands. Cold. The roses by the steps—wet. I can smell them. The sound of rain in the gutters. My heart in my throat.”

“Good. Keep going.”

He did. Slowly his breathing steadied, but the hollowness remained. “When do they stop waiting for me to fall apart?” he whispered.

“But tonight, you didn’t fall apart.”

He closed his eyes, let the rain touch his face, and held onto that.

Chapter Text

On a bright Saturday morning, Penelope and Jane joined her sisters in their mother’s garden.

Portia was a far more indulgent grandmother than she had ever been a mother.

Her garden was a haven for the grandchildren. She had a treehouse professionally built, a swing set, and a slide. The children loved it. 

Jane immediately ran to join her cousins. Phillipa and Prudence sat at the small table beneath an umbrella. 

“Hello,” Penelope said, sitting down to join them. She kept an eye on Jane as she did so. 

“Can you just relax for a moment?” Prudence asked, glancing up from her phone. “She’s fine.” 

Penelope didn’t respond right away. She took a moment to calm herself. 

“Philomena is too rough,” she finally said. “Peter is climbing the side of the fence, Pip.” 

Phillipa glanced at her son. “He’s just testing boundaries.”

“He’s going to test one right into a broken arm,” Prudence muttered, rubbing her baby bump.

“Peter Finch!” Portia yelled when she walked onto the terrace and saw her grandson. “You get down from there this instant!” 

At his grandmother’s scolding tone, Peter hopped down and began chasing the girls. 

“My child isn’t going to be as wild as yours, Phillipa.”

“That’s easy to say when they’re not here, yet.” Penelope said. “You might have the wildest one of all.” 

Prudence scowled. “I’ve been listening to guided calming meditations every day, I haven’t had a drop of caffeine, I’ve cut my sugar by half.”

“I couldn’t cut out my caffeine,” Penelope said. “Diet Coke was one of my few joys.”

“Caffeine changes the baby’s aura, you know,” Phillipa said.

Portia pinched the bridge of her nose while Prudence rolled her eyes.

Phillipa, oblivious to the change in mood, turned to Penelope and said. 

“I was reading up on Jane’s issue,” she said brightly. Penelope’s spine went rigid. Prudence’s eyes grew large. “Have you tried giving her omega-3 supplements?”

“Phillipa, darling,” Portia said not unkindly. “It’s best if we don’t speak on subjects we don’t know much about.” 

“I’ve read a lot about it,” 

“I appreciate it, Phillipa,” Penelope said, trying to keep things from becoming an issue. “But I will just follow the advice of her doctor.” 

“I was just warning you that Western medicine is—”

“Did I tell you I’ve decided to get an epidural?” Prudence interrupted quickly, drawing Phillipa’s attention to her. 

Phillipa gasped. “Epidurals interrupt the natural hormone cascade. You’ll regret it later.”

Phillipa ranted about the dangers of epidurals while Prudence tried to hide her snicker. Penelope suspected that she was secretly recording their sister’s crunchy rant. 

When the conversation finally lulled, Portia leaned closer.

“I heard Colin Bridgerton’s back at Violet’s,” she murmured.

Penelope froze. So much for an afternoon of peace.

It was a losing battle. She couldn’t reconcile the memory of him strung out with the man he was now. He was the old Colin. But Penelope was terrified that he wouldn’t last. That he would slip through her fingers once again. 

“Do you think he’s back for good?” Portia asked. It was a loaded question. She wondered if Penelope thought he might stay clean.

“I don’t know,” Penelope said after a moment. “I hope so.” 

Portia nodded while watching her daughter with interest. “I do too.” 

Penelope never hid from Portia who Jane’s father was. Despite her mother’s lack of maternal affection as a child, Penelope wouldn’t have been able to go through the pregnancy without her. 

Her pregnancy was at the height of Covid. She moved back home so she wouldn’t be in her flat all alone. Portia drove Penelope to appointments, answered her questions, helped Penelope keep up with all the information that was being thrown at her while also nursing a broken heart. 

There were a few times when her mother found Penelope crying on the bathroom floor. In the typical Portia fashion she would simply cross her arms and say “A man isn’t worth all this trouble, Penelope.” 

She went to Portia for practicality and Violet for comfort. It was Violet who held her tight and promised that the entire family would support her and Jane no matter what happened to Colin. They didn’t even know where he was at the time. 

Both the grandmothers were with her the day Jane was born. They clutched each other’s hands as they were shown the red faced, screaming little bundle. 

Sometimes, Penelope remembered the sound of the heart monitor in that quiet hospital room. The one that had beeped steadily as she promised her sleeping newborn they would be fine, just the two of them.

Penelope quietly wrung her hands outside the coffee shop. Jane stood beside her, pinching her nose.

“I can barely smell it out here,” Penelope sighed.

“It stinks,” Jane declared.

Penelope didn’t want to start the morning arguing with her daughter, so she focused instead on being anxious about Colin’s arrival.

She inhaled and released her breath the way her therapist—a hip young man who insisted she call him Terrence—had taught her.

In for four, hold two, out four. She repeated it while Jane bounced impatiently, still pinching her nose against the offending smell of coffee.

Then Penelope spotted them coming up the street—Colin and Eloise. Jane saw them, too, and began to jump.

“Aunt Eloise!” she shouted.

Eloise grinned. “The niece I dislike the least!”

Jane laughed and launched herself at her aunt. There were few people she would hug, and Eloise was one of them.

Once they settled, Jane turned toward Colin, who was watching with a warm smile. She frowned for a moment before remembering.

“You’re Colin,” she said.

“I am,” he replied softly. “And you’re Jane.”

She nodded, tugging on Eloise’s arm. “Let’s go to the park, Aunt Eloise! It stinks here!”

“Alright, alright,” Eloise said, allowing herself to be dragged away. “We’ll be at the park whenever you two are done with your heart-to-heart.”

Penelope rolled her eyes and waved goodbye.

Colin watched them go before turning back to her. “What did Jane mean that it stinks here?”

“She’s sensitive to smells,” Penelope said, pointing to the café. “She hates coffee. That’s why we were waiting outside.”

Colin nodded. “Well, shall we go in? I’ll buy you a latte. If you, uh, still like lattes?”

Penelope smiled sadly, fondly. “I do.”

The cafe wasn’t busy, they ordered and sat down with their drinks. Colin painstakingly stirring cream into his coffee as if it might fix everything. 

“So,” Penelope said, trying to get the conversation going.

Her fingers twisted in her lap, the edge of a napkin already crumpled between them. Years ago, Colin had been the easiest person in the world to talk to. Even easier than Eloise. She wanted that back but right now, the silence between them felt like glass. 

“So,” Colin said, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been in rehab. I’m assuming you guessed that.” 

Penelope nodded, allowing him to continue. 

“Fancy place out in the country. Surrounded by minor celebrities and the children of rich CEOs.”

Penelope smiled faintly. His voice was steadier than she remembered. He sounded... present. 

“Detox took three weeks, but it felt like years. Then lots of group therapy, individual therapy, yoga and meditation.” 

“You did yoga?” Penelope asked with a smirk. 

Colin cocked an eyebrow. “Are you saying I don’t look flexible?”

“No, of course not. I would never!” 

“Good, because I was great at it.” 

“Did you bring Bridgerton level competitiveness into your rehabilitative yoga class?” 

Colin shifted. “Well, I didn’t tell anyone, but secretly, yes. I was trying to be the best.” 

They laughed and Penelope felt that pang in her chest again. 

“You look good,” Penelope said before she could doubt herself. “You’re just like…the old Colin.” 

Colin’s smile fell. He looked away for a moment and Penelope could see him blinking back the tears. 

“I know I have a long road to regain everyone’s trust, your trust, but I am still that man. I just let a lot of other stuff get in my own way.”

Colin inhaled deeply and folded his hands in front of him. He met her gaze then, unflinchingly. 

“I’m sorry, Penelope. I’m sorry for the way I was. My behavior. The things I did, the way I treated you.”

Penelope broke eye contact. Her chest tightened; her throat felt too small for air. She blinked hard, but her vision still blurred. She wiped at the tears before they could fall. 

“Why do you think you started?” She asked softly. “Was it an escape or…something else?” 

Colin was silent for a moment before he replied. “I’m not sure,” he said finally. “It wasn’t one thing. I liked not feeling like me. And I liked that it worked, at first. Marina got me into the scene, but it’s not her fault. I’m not blaming her because after everything with her fell apart, I stayed and it got worse.”

Colin stared at his hands for a moment. “I asked the doctor once in therapy why it hit me so much harder than everyone else around me; Why all my friends were able to just stop when I couldn't. She didn’t have an answer for me. She said it could be biology. Some people have a genetic predisposition to addiction. Some people have dopamine deficiency, some people have mental health issues. They did diagnose me with depression.”

He laughed self-deprecatingly. “I realized I didn’t know anything about mental health. I thought everyone had bad days where they didn’t want to move. I thought I felt completely out of place everywhere because I simply didn’t belong anywhere. Being diagnosed with depression always seemed like such a 1950s housewife sort of thing to me.” 

“Well, you don’t have a job and you do like to cook,” Penelope quipped.

Colin laughed then, his shoulders relaxing a little bit. 

“I hated group therapy because it felt like everyone else had a reason. They would tell their story and it made sense why they would want to seek oblivion. But none of that fit for me. I wasn’t abused or abandoned as a child. My mother didn’t hate me. My father’s dead, but he loved me. I just felt like a spoiled, sad little rich boy.”

Penelope shook her head and placed her hand on his. Colin flinched slightly and Penelope couldn’t help but notice how warm his skin was. “Don’t,” She said quickly. “Don’t do that. You always do that. Bring yourself down as if your problems don’t matter. Even if you didn’t have the same hardships as others, you were still in pain.” 

A tear slipped down his cheek. He let it fall. He stared at where their hands were joined. 

“I’m proud of you for getting help,” she said. 

Colin nodded absently. “Thank you.” His voice was barely a whisper. 

“Do you remember—” Colin looked up at her then. Their eyes meeting across the table, their hands still joined. The sounds of coffee brewing and patrons laughing and chatting echoed around them. “Do you remember our night together?”

Her breath caught. The sound of the café seemed to fade, the hum of milk frothers and clinking cups blurring into a soft roar in her ears. She nodded, quickly, afraid her voice would betray too much.

“I just want you to know that it wasn’t because of the drugs,” he said. “I was completely sober that night. I meant everything I said.”

Penelope had pushed away the memories of his sweet words over the years. 

“Then what happened after?” 

Why did he leave? Why did he go back to his friends? Why couldn’t he stay sober like he promised?

“It was the first time I tried to go clean. I thought I could do it on my own. I thought I had control. So when a friend said ‘Just one more, for old time’s sake.’ I thought that’s exactly what it would be. I was naive.

“I know things can never be exactly the way that they were and that’s my fault, but I would like my friend back. In whatever way I can have you.” 

Penelope nodded. Fighting the tears that threatened to fall. 

“I’d like that too.” Her voice was hoarse, thick with emotion. Colin gave her a watery smile full of tentative hope. 

“But, Colin,” she added. “I can’t do that again. I can’t watch you come back and then fall apart again. Over and over. I grew up with that and I can’t…”

Colin shook his head fiercely. “No. You won’t have to. I’m staying sober. I know it’s not going to be easy, but I’m not giving up.” 

“I’ll help you,” she said. “In whatever ways I can, I just can’t watch you kill yourself.” 

“You won’t have to.” He squeezed her hand. His grip was steady, almost defiant. Penelope nodded and removed her hand to wipe the tears away. 

She laughed softly. “My ice melted ages ago.” 

Colin smiled and felt his paper cup. “Mine’s gone cold.” 

They laughed together. 

“Can we talk about something more upbeat?” He asked. “Tell me what you’ve been up to. Tell me about Jane.” 

Penelope fought to keep her breathing even. He should know. He should know. It repeated over and over in her head. But should she tell him now? What if these words were just that—words? What if he faltered again and then Jane was in the middle of it?

She would wait. Just a little while. 

“What do you want to know?” 

He looked like he had a million questions to ask, likely about her father.

“She was talking a lot about rockets at Mum’s,” he said. “Does she like space?” 

“Loves it,” Penelope said, relieved at this line of questioning. “That’s usually all she talks about. I guarantee Eloise is getting an earful, but she’s used to her obsessions.”

Colin nodded and looked nervous for a moment. “Anthony mentioned she has autism.” 

Penelope nodded, taking a sip of her watered down latte. “Anthony means well, but he acts like it’s a bad word. Jane knows that she has it. We’re very open about it. It’s only a matter of time before she hears someone speak of it as though it’s a bad thing, I want her to be confident in herself before that happens.”

“I realized I know very little about autism,” Colin said. “After I learned, I read a bit about it online. And I found something interesting out.”

He leaned forward slightly, as if to impart a great secret.

“I think your mum has it.”

Penelope laughed, the sound bubbling out of her unexpectedly. “I think the same thing!”

Colin smiled, relief flickering in his expression. “Does she still have that collection of teacups in the glass case?” 

Penelope nodded. “Yes. And in the exact same order.” 

“Do you remember when we rearranged them?” 

“I thought she was going to have a mental breakdown.” Penelope laughed again, softer this time. “You should see Mum and Jane together. Sometimes I think they have a secret language. They can communicate with scowls. She won’t hear it though. She won’t go to a doctor. She said ‘I’ve made it sixty years without a diagnosis, Penelope Anne, I don’t need one now.’”

 Colin laughed. “Does Jane collect things?”

“Clocks and rocks.” 

“Clocks?”

“Analog clocks. It started when she was a toddler. She loved Mum’s pendulum mantel clock and would stare at it for ages. Mum gave it to us. Then we saw a large clock in a home store and she wanted it. Then people started giving us clocks. She has an entire wall covered in clocks in her bedroom. The ticking is horrendous but she likes it.”

Colin smiled warmly. “She collects rocks too? I had a rock collection as a kid.”

Penelope remembered. She remembered the geodes lined up along his windowsill, the sunlight catching in the cracks of quartz. The same way Jane lined hers up now. Sometimes, when she saw them, the ache was almost unbearable.

She smiled faintly. “Yes. I remember.”

They fell into an easy silence, the kind that used to stretch between them when words weren’t needed.

Penelope stood, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from her blouse “Let’s go find them before Eloise teaches her something inappropriate.”

Colin smirked. “You mean that hasn’t already happened?”

Chapter Text

“How about Bluey?” 

“No.”

“Frozen?” 

“No.” 

“Ponyo?”

“No.”

“But you love Ponyo! She looks like you,” Penelope pleaded. 

“I don’t want to watch it now,” Jane said defiantly. “Can we watch the video about the Apollo spacecraft?” 

Penelope cringed inwardly. She didn’t want to watch that video again. 

“Wild Kratts. Final offer.” 

Jane’s eyes went round. “Okay!” 

Penelope’s shoulders slumped, relieved. “Go hop on the couch. I’ll make some popcorn.” 

Jane rushed to the sofa while Penelope busied herself in the kitchen. Her phone buzzed and she noticed a text from Eloise. 

Eloise: What are you doing tonight?

Penelope: Watching cartoons with Jane. What are you doing?

Eloise: Bridgerton pub night. Was going to invite you, but you probably can’t get a non-Bridgerton sitter this late, can you?

Penelope: 😂 No

Eloise: Thought so. ☹️ 

Penelope: Are you all there?

Eloise: All except one. 

Penelope: Ah. 

Eloise: I have a favor. 

Penelope: Does it involve a home Brazillian wax? Because I’m not doing that again. 

Eloise: That’s the kind of mistake I only make once. 

Eloise: This is about Colin. 

Eloise: He’s stuck at home with Mum. We offered to change our plans to do something that could include him, but he said he doesn’t want us to rearrange our lives because of him. 

Eloise: I thought maybe you could invite him over? Just so he’s not alone. I know Mum’s there. But you know. She’s a mum. 

Penelope: Yeah, she’ll try to coddle him all night and he hates that. 

Penelope: I’ll text him. 

Eloise: Great! Thanks!

Eloise: Also, I wanted to ask…

Penelope:...

Eloise: Are you going to tell him?

Penelope: I am. I just want to make sure he stays for a bit. Just to be safe. 

Eloise: I understand. And Anthony keeps telling us to temper our expectations but he really seems better this time.

Penelope: He does.

Eloise: I know you want to protect Jane from reliving your own childhood. But I thought it might be another reason for him to stay clean. 

Penelope: I know. I’ll get there. Have fun tonight. 

The popcorn dinged and Penelope poured it into a bowl as she made her way to the living room where Jane was scrolling through episodes. 

“The one about the cheetahs?” She asked Penelope. “Or the stingrays? Wait, no. Honey badgers!” 

“Sounds great, love,” Penelope said passing her daughter the bowl. She took a deep breath and opened her phone to text Colin. His reply came almost immediately. 

Penelope: How are you spending your Friday evening?

Colin: Sitting on the couch with Mum watching Bake Off. She keeps looking at me strangely. Offering me pie. 

Colin: Why is there so much pie?

Penelope: Are you asking me why your mum has pie? 

Penelope: IDK

Colin: The mystery abides.

Colin: What are you doing tonight? Did you join Eloise at the pub?

Penelope: No, Jane and I are hunkering down to go wild for Wild Kratts.

Colin: Sounds like fun. 

Penelope: Was that sarcasm? Because I was going to invite you for an evening of educational children’s cartoons.

Colin: I was not being sarcastic! I love watching cartoons with you. Are you serious? Because I’ll get an Uber right now. Mum keeps giving me worried looks. She didn’t even flinch when the contestant’s cake fell apart. 

Penelope: Inhuman. Yes. You’re invited. 

Colin: Do you have snacks?

Penelope: Of course, I have snacks!

Colin: I’m bringing more. Just in case. 

Penelope smiled at her screen. It was so easy to fall into their simple banter. She sent him her address and turned to Jane. 

“Colin is going to join us soon.” 

“Okay,” Jane said, but she was so focused on the television that Penelope was certain she didn’t hear her. 

Sure enough, when he knocked on the door twenty minutes later, Jane jumped. 

“Someone’s here!” 

“It’s Colin,” Penelope said walking to answer the door.

“Why is he here?” 

“To watch cartoons. Did you not hear me earlier?”

“No,” Jane frowned petulantly as she followed Penelope to the door.

Penelope opened the door to see Colin smiling, several bags in his hands.

“Hello, Pen.” He smiled down at Jane, who was half-hidden behind her mother.

“Hello, Jane.”

She looked him up and down as if memorizing a new constellation.

“You’re tall,” she said finally, as though she’d only just realized it.

“It’s one of my better traits,” Colin replied solemnly.

That earned the smallest twitch of a smile before she darted off toward the couch.

“I brought ice cream,” Colin said to Penelope.

The patter of Jane’s feet came racing back down the hall.

“I want some ice cream!”

“Be polite, Jane.”

“Please, can I have some?” she asked sweetly.

“Yes, but let’s allow Colin to come in first.”

Colin laughed softly at their antics as he followed Penelope into her flat.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Penelope called back as she led him to her kitchen. “But we already watched the episode about honey badgers.” 

“I’ll survive somehow, I’m sure.”

“We can watch it again!” Jane said helpfully.

“No repeats in the same day,” Penelope said. 

Colin set his bags on the counter. 

“Are you feeding an entire family?” Penelope asked, peeking at the snacks. 

“Well, I didn’t know what Jane liked. I got chocolate ice cream for her, because I thought all kids like chocolate. But do you still like cookie dough ice cream?” 

He held out the tub of ice cream. Penelope snatched it quickly. 

“Mine!” she squeaked. 

“My favorite is mint choc chip!” Jane said. 

“Hey! Mine too!” Colin said procuring a tub of said flavor. Penelope’s heart beat painfully, but she masked it. 

“Heathens. Both of you. Mint does not belong in ice cream.” 

“It’s good, Mummy!” 

“Yeah, Mum. It’s good!” 

Penelope rolled her eyes, but was actually fighting tears at the domestic picture they made. Colin and Jane were so similar, in the ways that they stood, held their head, their smile. 

Penelope insisted on putting the ice cream in bowls, despite Colin and Jane’s emphasis on eating straight out of the tubs. 

They sat down on the couch and Jane pulled up the next episode. 

“This one’s about narwhals,” she announced. 

“For years, I thought narwhals were made up—like unicorns with better swimming skills.” Colin said as he took a bite of his ice cream. 

Jane laughed with a mouth full of ice cream. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Colin smiled. “Just look at their horns. They’re so weird.” 

“They’re tusks,” Jane corrected. “Tusks are teeth and don’t regrow. Horns regrow.” 

“This episode actually explains it if you would be quiet and listen,” Penelope said smugly. 

Colin nodded his head with a small smile. 

They watched in silence for a little while. Penelope noticed that Jane would occasionally glance at Colin in confusion. She wondered what her daughter thought of the man. 

Jane never asked much about her father. She asked once, years ago, why her cousins had fathers and she did not. But she accepted Penelope’s explanation that her father was away. She was fine with it simply being the two of them. Penelope tried to be enough for Jane, but she worried that it was never enough. She looked at Colin, his face blue from the light of the television, and knew that she had to tell him soon. He deserved that. He was trying so hard. 

“So which one’s the Kratt again?” Colin asked. 

“They both are,” Jane said, exasperated.

“That’s poor planning on their parents’ part,” Colin said gravely, earning a small snort from her.

“Kratt is their last name,” Jane giggled.

The episode finished and moved seamlessly into the next. Jane yawned near the end. 

“Are you getting sleepy?” Penelope asked. 

“No,” Jane said indignantly, rubbing her eyes. 

“It’s not even midnight yet,” Colin said to Jane. “You can’t be tired.” 

“I never stay up until midnight.” 

“You don’t?” Colin said with mock confusion. “I assumed your bedtime was 2 A.M. Maybe 3.” 

Jane laughed. “No!” 

Jane scrambled off the couch, almost knocking her empty ice cream bowl over in the process. 

“I have to show you something! Come with me, Colin!” 

She didn’t wait for an answer as she rushed from the living room down the hall. Colin looked at Penelope who shrugged. 

“We better go see what it is,” She said. 

Colin smirked and stood to follow Jane. He took in the appearance of Penelope’s flat as she followed him. Colin only knew her old flat, before she moved in with her mother. Once she moved out, she needed something larger for her and her daughter. 

Jane’s room was currently a disaster. Her collection of clocks on the wall all ticked just slightly out of step with one another. Her floor was covered in pop its, blocks, small dolls, and books. She rushed to the toy box and began pulling out toy after toy until she found what she was looking for. 

She held up the toy rocket. Colin crouched, though Penelope noticed he was trying hard not to step on anything in her room. 

“Is that the rocket you were talking about the other day?” He asked. 

Jane nodded. “This is the Saturn V rocket!” 

The sight of them together, Colin crouched low so he could meet Jane’s eyes, the two of them bent over the toy, pulled at something deep in Penelope’s chest. For an instant, it was as if time folded, and she saw the boy he’d been, bright-eyed and curious, reflected in their daughter.

“So this landed on the moon?” 

Jane launched into a detailed description of the Saturn V’s stages—command, service, lunar—while Colin listened, wide-eyed, as if she were describing a fairy tale instead of a rocket.

Colin’s eyebrows raised, clearly impressed. “How do you know all of this?” 

“I watched a YouTube video about it. And Mummy got me these books.” 

Jane handed Colin the rocket as she rushed over to her bookshelf and grabbed the large books on space that Penelope purchased for her. She held up the small book on top. 

“This one is about meteoroids and meteors.” 

“I thought those were the same thing.” 

Jane’s eyes grew large. She shook her head. “No! It’s a meteoroid in space, a meteor when it’s in the atmosphere, and a meteorite when it’s on the ground.” 

“Oh,” Colin said, smiling. “Then what is an asteroid?”

“A rock that orbits the sun.” 

Colin laughed. “You sure do know a lot, Jane.” 

“Just about things I like,” She said, sitting on the floor beside him and flipping through the book. She pointed to a picture. “This is the Ring Nebula.” 

“Looks like an eyeball.” 

Jane flipped through more pages. “This is a lunar eclipse,” She pointed to the page with illustrations of moon phases. 

“Alright, Jane,” Penelope said, cutting her off. If allowed, Jane would go through every page of that book and talk to Colin about it all night. “It’s time to get ready for bed.” 

Jane frowned. “Can I show Colin my geodes?” 

“Quickly,” Penelope said only after she observed the soft gaze in Colin’s eyes. 

Jane hopped up and stepped gingerly over the toys until she reached her windowsill. 

“These are all minerals,” She said, pointing to the first few rocks. “Uncle Albion gave me this geode.” Jane held up her newest addition to the collection. “It’s quartz.” 

“I thought that was amethyst,” Colin said. 

“Amethyst is a type of quartz,” Jane clarified. 

“It’s beautiful,” Colin said softly, glancing from the rock to the mesmerized look in Jane’s eye as she turned the stone in her hands, watching it reflect in the light of her room. 

“Alright, Jane,” Penelope said, hesitant to break up the connection between the two. “Time to get ready for bed.”

Colin and Penelope left her alone as she changed into her pajamas. Once they were in the hall, Colin turned to Penelope and smiled. 

“She’s amazing, Pen,” He said, full of wonder. 

Her throat tightened. “She is.”

“You’ve done a great job.” 

“Thank you.”

For the first time in years, Penelope let herself imagine what it might look like. Him staying, the three of them together, their laughter echoing through the flat.

“It’s strange,” he said. “Seeing you here. A new flat. A daughter.”

He hesitated, hands shifting in his pockets. “It’s been like this with everyone. Ben’s engaged. Anthony has two kids. Daphne’s expecting again. Greg and Hy are off at university. It just feels like…” His voice caught. “Like everyone kept moving forward, and I stayed in the same place.”

Penelope bit her lip, unsure what comfort would sound right.

“It’s not a race,” she said softly. “You’re trying. That counts for something.”

Colin nodded and smiled wanly. “I know Mum is staying up until I get back home, so I better head back. Thanks, Pen. For everything and for tonight. It was a lot of fun.” 

“Mum!” Jane shouted running out of her room in her Bluey pajamas. “Can Colin come to my birthday party?”

“Of course,” Penelope said quickly. “If he wants to.”

She looked to Colin apologetically. “Sorry, it’s short notice. It’s next weekend at Mum’s.” 

“I’m going to be six!” Jane said enthusiastically. 

Colin’s eyebrows raised. “Wow. Six years old? You’re practically old enough to drive.” 

Jane laughed. 

“I’d love to come,” Colin assured Penelope. 

“Yay! More presents!” Jane said, jumping enthusiastically. 

“Jane!” Penelope scolded, but Colin laughed. 

“At least she’s honest.”

Chapter Text

Colin never thought he’d find himself on the front steps of Portia Featherington’s house again. The last time had been years ago, when he was a lanky teenager walking Penelope to and from her sleepovers with Eloise.

Portia’s gaze had always been sharp enough to peel a person bare. Even then, it made him feel stripped down. Vulnerable.

He remembered one visit in particular. He’d come home on holiday from university to take Penelope to a film they both wanted to see. That was the beginning—when the drinking and the drugs were still confined to weekends, before the days all blurred together and time stopped mattering.

He told himself the dark circles under his eyes were from exams, the grey skin from too many late nights studying. But Portia Featherington looked at him once, and he knew she saw the truth.

Now, years later he stood nervous on her doorstep with his own mother. Holding a small, wrapped box and fidgeting. The sounds of laughter coming from inside the home were foreign to him. The Featherington home had always been a tomb. Years waiting for their father’s sporadic returns and then the silent relief after his death. 

The door was answered by Prudence’s husband, Harry. He was an affable sort of fellow. Kinder than Prudence deserved, Colin always thought. 

He smiled broadly. “Violet!” He greeted as if the two were great friends. He then turned to Colin, his expression strained slightly. “It’s good to see you again, Colin.” 

Colin nodded. He knew he had no right to feel offended. He had earned their suspicion. 

“The children are in the garden,” he said. “Penelope’s in the kitchen.” 

“Thank you, Harry,” Violet said sweetly. They walked into the pristinely gaudy Featherington home. Chartreuse curtains, maximalist decor and the scent of eucalyptus. Colin shuddered. How did Penelope survive living here?

“I see Daphne and Kate in the living room,” His mother said. “I’ll put your gift with the others if you want to find Penelope and Jane.” 

Colin nodded his thanks. He could easily see that the living room was full of Bridgertons and he had quite his fill of overbearing Bridgertons over the last few days. 

If he wasn’t being treated with disdain and suspicion, he was being treated with kid gloves as if he were a loaded gun. 

Dr. Shah said that as time went on and he proved to them that he was getting better, things would resume their normal flow. He prayed she was right. 

He longed for the day that he could walk into a room with his siblings and they didn’t smile at him with sadness. When Benedict could tease him, Anthony would berate him over not doing anything with his life, Eloise would say that he was her least favorite brother. 

But Colin knew he had to stay the course. 

He heard Penelope’s laughter and followed it to the kitchen. She stood at the counter, cutting fruit and placing it in a bowl. She bit her lip as her body shook with contained laughter, Colin wondered what could inspire such a reaction when he heard Phillipa say: 

“You don’t need a crib—co-sleeping aligns your circadian rhythms.”

“Did both your kids sleep with you as babies?” Eloise, who stood beside Penelope asked. 

“They still do,” Phillipa asserted.

“All four of you fit in your bed?” She asked in disbelief. 

Penelope then noticed Colin. Her whole face lit up, and something inside him shifted painfully, like a door long closed beginning to open.

“Colin!” 

The room turned towards him silently. He could feel the tension develop quickly. For a beat, no one spoke. The clink of a knife against the fruit bowl sounded deafening. He had imagined this moment so many times, the easy warmth, the laughter but the reality was quieter, heavier.

Prudence stood there with a half-eaten cupcake and a guarded smile.

“Colin,” she said, drawing out his name just a little too long. “You came.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said easily, stepping inside. The smell of sugar and coffee hit him at once, warm and domestic. It made him ache.

Phillipa, clutching a tray of sandwiches, greeted him politely enough, but her eyes flicked over him the way people check for a stain they hope not to find. 

“Colin.” Her voice was soft, quiet.

“Jane’s outside,” Penelope said as if nothing were amiss. “But it’s very loud out there.” 

Eloise glanced out the back window to the garden. “Why is it that the lunchroom at school bothers her, but running in a garden with five other screaming children doesn’t?”

“I’ve wondered that,” Penelope said. “I think it’s the echo. Indoors, the sound sort of bounces back at her.”

“Huh,” Eloise said.

“Anthony, Simon and Albion are out there with them,” Penelope said. 

“I’ll go say ‘Hi’,” Colin said, making his way to the garden. 

Albion Finch was in the garden chasing his own rowdy children. Simon and Anthony were deep in conversation about financials and holdings when they saw Colin. Anthony’s eyes widened in surprise, but his smile was genuine when he greeted him. 

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Anthony said. 

“Jane invited me,” Colin said easily. 

Anthony was quiet for a moment as he studied Colin. “You’ve been spending time with Penelope and Jane?” 

“Some,” Colin said. “I watched telly with them last weekend. Met them at the park after school Wednesday. She joins your daughters for tea with Mum on Fridays. They let me join the first time, but I was kicked out yesterday. No boys allowed, apparently.”

His brother laughed. For the first time in weeks, his brother’s laugh didn’t sound like pity. “Yes, Grandmother tea is very sacred.” 

“Colin!” A sweet voice rang out among the others. 

He turned, already smiling before he saw her — as if the sound itself tugged something in him loose. The little redhead barreled toward him, curls flying, the sunlight catching in her hair like copper thread.

“Happy Birthday, Jane!” 

She ran towards him and bounced a bit around him excitedly. Penelope explained that this was her sort of greeting. She didn’t hug many people, it was a privilege reserved for Eloise, Penelope and Portia.

He crouched a little to meet her eyes. “Did you bring me a present?” she asked, eyes wide, hopeful.

“Of course,” he said. “It’s your birthday, after all.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll have to wait until you open it.”

Jane pouted, the tiniest, most theatrical expression, then grinned and dashed off toward the others.

As she ran, Colin found himself still crouching there, oddly reluctant to straighten up. His hand twitched, almost reaching after her, before he caught himself. Something about her left a small ache in his chest — something he couldn’t name.

When he finally rose, Simon and Anthony were watching him. Not suspiciously. Just… curiously.

“You haven’t been out much since you’ve been back home,” Anthony said, trying too hard to sound casual. “It’s good seeing you here. I know it’s… a lot, but you’re handling it well.”

Colin bristled inwardly. Handling it well. As if he were a child they were afraid to startle. He forced a laugh, thin and short.

“Excuse me a moment,” he said, and turned toward the house.

He focused on his breathing. His grounding. Naming things he saw with every step through the house. He remembered the way to the bathroom. Portia’s ghastly curtains. Children’s swingset. White carpet. Flower Vase. Hallway. Family portraits. 

Colin paused. He was in the hall a bit away from the party. He could hear the laughter of his family from the living room. Daphne, Kate, his mother. But Colin’s eyes were focused on the framed photos hanging in Portia’s hall. 

There were old ones he remembered: tiny Penelope with freckles and tight curls with her sisters; Penelope and Eloise in their school uniforms; Penelope at university, cap askew, grinning despite the wind. He smiled at that. He’d been proud of her that day. He’d dropped out. She’d finished. 

But then Colin saw newer photos. Jane as a toddler, little pigtails and a bright green jumper in front of Portia’s pink Christmas tree that looked older than Portia herself. 

Colin sauntered slowly down the hall, the noises from the party becoming quieter, Jane growing younger in the pictures. He saw her in a stroller, the hair on her head thin, almost brown as a newborn. 

Colin briefly remembered Hyacinth as a baby, how she was practically bald for her first year. Baby Jane’s face had her same pinched expression too. 

Then he stopped.

The next frame showed Penelope in a hospital bed, exhausted but radiant, a newborn swaddled against her chest. Portia sat to her right, smiling with rare, genuine joy.

But on Penelope’s left, with the same damp eyes and trembling smile, was his mother.

Colin’s chest went tight. Why would his own mother have been there at the birth of Jane? Sure, she loved Penelope, but to be there at the birth of her daughter?

He leaned closer. The women’s masks were pulled below their chins for the photo. Jane was six. That would have been—

Mid-pandemic.

His stomach dropped.

He remembered that spring. The first lockdown.

He’d been staying with Penelope then. Trying to go clean.

Trying and failing.

The last night he’d seen her, he’d promised he’d come back. He’d gone out to see a friend and then…

Just one more, mate. Come on!

He had called Penelope. He had tried so hard not to sound like he was high. He failed. He remembered her crying. She told him not to come around until he was clean for good.

So he stayed away. 

For six years. 

He didn’t need to count back months. His body already knew.

It was the way the little girl smiled at him. How his heart beat when she was around. He thought the connection he felt to her was just an extension of the love he felt for Penelope. How could he not love every single piece of her?

He could feel his pulse racing. For the first time in years a racing pulse was caused by something other than a hit. He clenched at his chest, that claustrophobia kicking in. The old sensation that told him to run came back. 

It was what he always did. It was what got him into this mess in the first place. He couldn't face his problems on his own.  

“Colin?” A voice rang out. 

It was Eloise. Concern etched across her features. He glanced again at the photo. His mother knew. Eloise knew. He thought of his family, the looks they gave him that first day he came back and Penelope came into Violet’s home as if she belonged there. 

Jane’s closeness to his siblings and their children. Anthony’s interest in Jane’s education. 

They all knew. 

They had known for six years that he had a daughter and no one had told him. 

The photo blurred as his vision swam. For a moment he couldn’t hear anything but the pulse in his ears.

Eloise glanced at the wall, trying to see what Colin was looking at. He heard a breath escape her when she saw the photo. 

“You knew,” he rasped. He could feel the tears forming in his eyes. “Everyone knew.” 

“Okay, Colin,” Eloise said, trying to keep her voice level. “Let’s go somewhere and…I don’t know, just come on.” 

Colin allowed Eloise to lead him down the hall and into a spare bedroom. She sat him down on the bed. Colin bent his head over his knees, taking huge mouthfuls of air. 

“She’s mine,” he said after a few moments of deep breaths. 

“I’m surprised you’re just now figuring this out,” Eloise scoffed. “You really didn’t see it? Not once?”

Colin shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. There were so many holes in his memories. The last six years flowed so quickly while it was happening, but there was so little that Colin remembered now. 

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” He said, finally lifting his head up to meet Eloise’s. She frowned angrily. 

“Are you serious?” Eloise asked. “You know better than anyone that you were not in a state to be a father these past years.”

“Maybe if I had known,” He said, his voice broken. “I would have tried harder. If I had known there was someone for me to be better for.” 

“It didn’t work for Archie,” a stern voice said from the doorway. The floorboard creaked beneath her heels.

Colin and Eloise’s attention turned towards the woman standing there with her arms crossed. Portia Featherington’s stare was still enough to cut Colin to the core, to make him feel bare. 

“That man had three daughters to live for, but he didn’t. They were never enough for him.”

Colin said nothing. He looked away from the woman and focused on the carpet beneath his feet. 

“For the longest time, I thought Penelope didn’t take after me at all,” Portia continued. “But when she told me she was pregnant and that you were the father, I realized we had the same taste in men.” 

Portia left the room, closing the door softly behind her as though she didn’t just deliver the most heartbreaking news of Colin’s life. 

“She was going to tell you,” Eloise said once they were alone again. “She just wanted to make sure that you were going to stay. That this wasn’t going to be like her father.” 

A wave of shame passed over Colin. He hadn’t been there when Penelope needed him. He had been too busy chasing highs and missed six years of his daughter’s life. 

“How?” Colin rasped finally. “How could she think I would be like that? She knew me better than anyone.” 

“You weren’t you, Colin!” Eloise cried, tears falling down her cheeks. “You were something that we didn’t recognize! Penelope only saw her childhood repeating. She didn’t want Jane to grow up with that. For God’s sake, Archie overdosed at Prudence’s sixteenth birthday dinner! He fucked them all up. Prudence hasn’t celebrated a birthday since, Phillipa is so afraid of any prescription drug that she’s turned into a new age nutjob and Penelope got knocked up by an addict. Do you really think she wanted any of that for Jane?” 

Colin buried his head in his hands, his heart breaking. For Penelope, for Jane, for himself. 

“Are you staying clean this time?” Eloise asked quietly. “Are you really trying?” 

Colin gave a strangled sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “If I wasn’t sober before, being compared to Archibald fucking Featherington would do it.” 

He remembered Penelope crying after her father died. It wasn’t out of sadness. It was relief. 

“I think I need to go home,” Colin said. His energy was fading. He felt wrung out. Worn down. 

Eloise paled. 

“What…What are you going to do?” 

Colin’s face pinched at her implication. “I’m not going to do anything stupid,” he bit out. “I just need…to think.” 

His mind and body were screaming at him to run. To escape. To find the old number of the person he knew would have what he needed. 

Play the tape to the end. 

He repeated the mantra Dr. Shah gave him. If he went down that road, one day he would end up dead. And somewhere, someone would be relieved that he wasn’t there to fuck everything up anymore.  

“I don’t think you should be alone,” Eloise said as if she could hear his thoughts. 

Colin shook his head. 

“No,” he said. “Can you get Ben? Is he here?”

Eloise nodded quickly. “I’ll get him.”

“Please, El. Don’t make a big thing out of it. I don’t want to ruin Jane’s birthday. I just…I just need to think.”

Eloise nodded and quickly slipped out of the room.  Colin took several more deep breaths before leaving the room after her. 

The noise from the living room seemed to come from another world. Colin moved through the corridor like a shadow, keeping his head down. The photographs on the wall blurred past this time. He didn’t want to look. Not again.

He was halfway to the back door when he heard her sweet voice. His heart lurched. 

“Colin?” 

Jane stood in the doorway, still wearing her party dress, her curls a little frizzy from playing. She was holding the box he’d wrapped. The lid hung open in her hand.

“I opened your present,” she said, a little out of breath. “Is it real? Mummy said it’s real.” 

Colin gave her a watery smile. “Yeah, Jane it’s real.” 

“A real meteorite,” she said breathlessly. 

Her words caught in his chest. He looked down at the meteorite, at her small fingers curled protectively around it. He remembered holding it as a boy, turning it over in his palm, pretending it was a piece of another world he could escape to. His father had given it to him when he was eight—“A reminder,” Edmund Bridgerton had said, “that you come from stardust too.”

He had searched for hours through boxes of his childhood in his mother’s attic until he found it. 

He didn’t question at the time why he would give something that held such sentimentality to Jane. 

“I think it’s from the asteroid belt,” Jane said, unaware of the turmoil in his chest. “You can tell because of the nickel. See how shiny the metal bits are? Some meteorites even have crystals inside them, but you can’t always tell unless you cut them open, which you shouldn’t, because then you ruin it. I’ll never ruin it! It’s my favorite present.” 

Colin’s throat tightened. Maybe he’d always known. Somewhere beneath the guilt, beneath the wreckage, something in him must have recognized her.

Ben’s voice broke the silence. “There you are. Eloise said you might need a ride home.” His tone was gentle, his expression worried.

Colin forced a shaky breath. “If you don’t mind.”

Ben glanced between them but said nothing. Jane was still turning the meteorite over in her hands, watching how the faint light caught its surface.

“Keep it safe for me, yeah?” Colin said quietly.

“I will,” she said, serious now. “I’ll keep it forever.”

Ben touched his shoulder, and they started toward the door. Colin didn’t look back until he heard movement from the hall. 

Then her voice, soft and shaking: “Colin?”

Penelope stood in the doorway. Her eyes flicked from Jane to Colin, then to the open box in her daughter’s hands. The realization in her face was clear and wordless.

Colin couldn’t speak. He just gave a small nod, an apology, a confession, and a goodbye all at once—and followed his brother out of the house.

Chapter Text

Ben said nothing on the way home. He let Colin spiral quietly to himself. His mind went over everything he missed. First steps. First words. First day of school. Tears slipped silently down his face through the short drive. 

When they arrived at their mother's, Benedict wordlessly led Colin inside and sat him on the sofa in the living room. Colin didn’t even realize his brother left until he returned with a glass of water for him.

Benedict sat beside him, patiently waiting for anything Colin might say. 

“Can I say something?” Benedict asked after long moments of silence. 

“As if I could stop you.” Colin’s voice was hoarse. 

Benedict was quiet for a moment, as if measuring his words. 

“When Penelope was pregnant, she asked about you often.” 

Colin’s chest ached, but he didn’t interrupt. 

“I think she hoped you might reach out. None of us realized how bad it got until the lockdowns started and you disappeared. 

“I’m very well aware of how this is all my fault.” Colin couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. 

“That’s not the point I’m trying to make,” Benedict said. “It was never about keeping Jane from you. It was about protecting her.” 

“Protecting her from me.”

“What you became,” Benedict clarified. “That wasn’t you.” 

“But it was,” Colin said wetly. “It was me. It will always be a part of me. Part of recovery was taking responsibility for my actions and not placing the blame on someone else. I’m not Jekyll and Hyde. I was Colin when I was high and I’m Colin now that I’m sober.” 

His brother was silent for a moment and Colin looked over at him. He sat beside him on the sofa watching Colin with a strange look in his eye.” 

“You’re right,” Benedict said. Tears of his own now slipping down his cheeks. “But now you’re making better choices.” 

Colin nodded. “I’m trying.” 

“She’s still young, Colin. One day she won’t even remember the part of her life that you weren’t in.” 

“But I’ll remember,” he said. “I’ll remember everything I missed. Everything Penelope had to go through on her own.” 

“She was never alone,” Benedict said. “We were all here. We hoped that one day you would come back, so we never let her be alone. Penelope and Jane are Bridgertons in everything except name.” 

They should be Bridgertons in name. Colin thought. He wanted to remedy that. He prayed that he could be enough for them and maybe one day they would. Maybe, despite the fucked up circumstances, they could be a family. 

“I’m practically a stranger to her,” Colin’s voice was hoarse. 

“Not for long,” Benedict said hopefully. “I saw the way that little girl looked at you. You’re fast becoming one of her favorite people.” 

“There are some ways you’re similar,” Benedict said with a small smile. “I could never teach you to draw as a kid because you wouldn’t sit still long enough. I was determined to teach Jane to be an art lover.”

“Didn’t work out?” Colin asked with a small laugh.

Benedict shook his head. “She can’t sit still either. I even tried fingerpaints when she was a toddler, because what kid doesn’t love painting? Jane, apparently. It was before we knew her diagnosis, but she hated the paint being on her hands. She hates anything being on her hands.”

Colin laughed slightly. 

“Her quirks were difficult to manage before we knew what they meant. Before the therapies and doctors. We went out for dinner one year for Mum’s birthday. Jane was two or three, maybe. She accidentally dipped her hand in her marinara and started screaming. Penelope couldn’t get her to calm down. Eloise had to help her gather Jane and leave the restaurant.” 

Colin shut his eyes tightly and pressed his face in his hands.

If he had been sober, he could have been there for Penelope. He wouldn’t have known what to do either, but at least he could have tried, at least she wouldn’t have been alone.

“I know you’re mourning everything you’ve lost, Colin.” Benedict said, placing a hand on his back. “But think about everything you still have left to experience.” 

Colin nodded weakly. “If Penelope lets me. God, she probably hates me.” 

Benedict laughed then. Colin looked at him indignantly. 

Benedict smiled. “She doesn’t hate you, Colin. I don’t think she’s capable of it.”

“Why wouldn’t she? I got her pregnant and disappeared for years. When I finally came back, she didn’t tell me I had a daughter.” 

“She’s just being careful for Jane’s sake,” Benedict told him. 

His brother was silent for a moment. 

“The only time I’ve ever seen her angry? Last Christmas. Mum mentioned you, wishing you could be there. Anthony—because he deals with emotion like a twelve-year-old—said he wouldn’t be surprised if we got the call you’d been found dead under an overpass.”

Colin winced. 

“Penelope attacked him—Verbally,” Benedict paused before laughing. “Can you imagine if she tried to physically attack him? Like a kitten going after a doberman.” 

“Ben!” 

“Right, sorry. She told him that was insensitive and he shouldn’t speak of you that way and that he would feel terrible if that actually came to pass. Anthony looked like a scolded child. Best Christmas ever.” 

Colin laughed despite himself. Leave it to Penelope to defend him, even after everything. The thought hurt and comforted him in equal measure.

He rubbed at his face, exhausted but strangely clear. The past would always be there like an old scar that caught the light sometimes, but it didn’t have to own him. He could do better now. For Jane. For Penelope. For himself.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen—He froze. 

Penelope.

Penelope wrung her hands as she paced the flat. The silence pressed in. Jane was at school, and for the first time in years, Penelope wished she weren’t. Then she wouldn’t be here alone waiting for Colin to show up. 

She knew he figured it out when she saw him at Jane’s birthday. Benedict was watching him worriedly and Colin’s face was full of pain. 

She thought maybe he already knew when Jane opened the small gift that Colin gave her. Penelope’s heart stopped. She remembered that rock. It used to hold a prized place on Colin’s shelf when they were children. She knew it was a gift from Edmund shortly before his death. 

If he was giving that to Jane…

When the party was over, she called him. She couldn’t let this sit, let it fester. They had to work this out for Jane. They had to figure out what to do next. Their conversation was short, his voice sounded so raw and broken. 

They agreed to talk today, while Jane was at school. Penelope had no idea what she would say—only that she couldn’t keep pretending this secret didn’t already live between them.

Penelope jumped when the knock echoed through the small flat. 

She opened the door. Colin stood there looking as anxious as she felt. His eyes were red, dark circles beneath them. But she knew what caused it this time wasn’t a drink or a pill. It was grief because she felt it too. 

Penelope let him in wordlessly. 

“Tea?” She asked because even her stress couldn’t eradicate years of etiquette. 

“No, thank you.” 

Penelope nodded. “Maybe we should sit down.” 

They perched on the couch, each on either end slightly turned towards one another. 

It was strange to think that they were in this same spot a week ago, only with a little girl between them. Their little girl. Their little family.

“Thank you for coming,” Penelope said. 

“You invited me.” 

“Yes, well. I wasn’t sure if you would be angry with me.” She tugged at the hem of her shirt nervously. 

Colin shook his head resolutely. “I’m not angry,” he said quickly. “I understand why you did what you did, but understanding doesn’t stop it from hurting.” 

Penelope nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I know.” 

“I guess that’s just another regret to the long list,” he said softly. “Being away, I mean. Not Jane.” 

There was silence between them for a moment. Then Colin asked. 

“Did she ever ask about her father?” 

Penelope nodded. “She wondered why Belinda, Charlotte and Philomena had fathers but she didn’t. I told her you were away. It worked for now. I’m sure as she grew older she would have demanded more information than that.” 

“Would you have told her the truth?” 

Penelope looked at him then. “Depending on her age, yes. I never lie to her. My mother never lied to us about what our father was doing or where he was. I think it might have been worse if she did.” Penelope frowned as she remembered Portia’s blunt words about Archie’s whereabouts. “I like to think I would have used more tact than my own mother, though.”

Colin gave a small laugh at that. “I can only imagine.” 

“Once you came back, I was planning on telling you. You seem so much better and it was only a matter of time before I did.” 

Penelope reached over to the coffee table, picking up the scrapbook that lay on top. 

“I’ve been working on this,” she said. “I started it not long after she was born. It’s always been the idea that it would be for you when you were ready.” 

Penelope handed Colin the book, Jane’s name emblazoned across the front in scrapbook papers. 

“Jane Eloise Featherington,” Colin read with a slight smile. “I’m sure that didn’t give El an ego boost at all.” 

“Oh, she informed everyone that she was Jane’s namesake after she was born. We would take Jane for a walk in her stroller and anytime someone would stop and fawn over her, Eloise would say ‘This is my niece, she was named after me.’ I think some people thought we were a couple.” 

Colin laughed louder this time. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

The laughter faded quickly. Silence settled, thick with the things they hadn’t said. Colin opened to the first page. Photos of Penelope while pregnant were there. She hated those pictures, hated how much bigger she grew. 

Her belly prevented the presence of a cute early pregnancy bump and she was only noticeably pregnant when she was huge. She only included the photos because she thought Jane might like to see them one day. 

Colin paused longer than Penelope thought he might. “You were beautiful.” His voice was soft and full of reverence. Penelope looked away, blinking past tears.

He turned the page with trembling hands to see the sonogram scans. His fingers trailed lightly over the black and white photos, before turning again to see the photos after Jane’s birth. 

“How was the birth?” Colin asked, glancing up at her. 

Penelope shrugged. “Except for being during covid, it went smoothly. I was in labor all night and Jane came first thing in the morning. Because of pandemic restrictions, I was only allowed two guests during the entire stay. I chose our mothers.” 

“I’m surprised my siblings didn’t bust down the hospital doors.” 

“Anthony threatened to ‘use his connections’ to make the hospital allow them in!” Penelope laughed. “I told him not to. They were all waiting outside when we were discharged.” 

Colin smiled and flipped through the pages. Jane’s homecoming, her first bath, her first Christmas. Silent tears falling down his cheeks the entire time. 

“What was her first word?” 

“Mumma.” 

“What’s her favorite food?”

“Pizza.” 

The pages became blank just before the start of that year. “Sorry,” Penelope said. “I still haven’t finished it yet.” 

Colin closed the book. Silence passed between them for a few moments before he broke it. 

“I’d like to be in her life,” he said looking up at her.

“I’d like that too.” Penelope said quickly.

His shoulders relaxed and Colin released a breath.

“It’s just…” She began, steeling herself for what she would have to say. “I told you before that I can’t watch you come in and out of my life like my father. I can’t allow that for Jane, either. If that happens…” 

She didn’t need to voice it. Colin knew. He nodded. “It won’t.” 

His voice was so sure and determined that she had no choice but to believe him. She knew that she was putting her heart on the line again, she knew that he could destroy her and Jane. But she had to try. For herself, for Jane. 

“Can we tell her?” He asked. 

Penelope nodded. “We can. But I think I should do it alone. I think if we’re both there, it might overwhelm her. Whenever something new is about to occur, I have to warn her ahead of time. She doesn’t do well with big changes or surprises, and we’re essentially changing her entire life.

“She sees a therapist to help her manage her emotions, I’ll let her know what’s happening so she can talk to Jane about it too. We can give her some time to think about it and then I’ll ask her when she would like to talk to you.” 

Colin frowned, but nodded. “You know her best. I’ll follow your lead.” 

Penelope smiled wanly. “She’s already really attached to you, Colin. She hasn’t stopped talking about your birthday gift. I guarantee her teachers are getting an earful about it today.”

Colin preened slightly, but then his smile faltered. “If she asks about where I was, why I wasn’t here, what are you going to say?” 

Penelope paused and thought for a moment. “I don’t think it’s best to sugarcoat anything because when she grows she will learn the truth. She’ll overhear someone talk about it or mention it in passing. But she’s still a child, so I don't want to be too explicit. I think I’ll just say you had some problems that you had to work through. It’s not a lie, but it's child-appropriate.”

Colin nodded. “You’ve thought about this.” 

Penelope shrugged. “Well, I’ve always hoped that one day you would come back.” 

Colin dragged a hand through his hair. “I wish I had known,” he said. “Don’t you think if you had told me, I might have got help sooner?” 

“You said you loved me that night,” Penelope said bluntly, she was proud that the words came out without her voice breaking. 

Colin flinched as if she’d hit him. His throat worked as he tried to speak.

“I never stopped loving you,” he said in a quiet voice that she almost didn’t hear. 

“But I wasn’t enough.” The tears slipped down her cheeks unbidden.

“It wasn’t about you, I—”

“I know,” she said quickly, wanting to spare him the pain of having to admit how much self-loathing he had. Her eyes fixed on a small nail hole in the drywall. Her hands knotted in her shirt.

“My mother used me and my sisters to guilt my father all his life. It worked in the short term — he’d come home clean and full of promises, but it never lasted.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“I wasn’t enough for him. I wasn’t enough for you. I was afraid Jane wouldn’t be enough either. I thought the safest way to make sure you stayed for good was if you got clean for you.”

Penelope tried to stay calm, but her voice trembled over the words. 

“I hate how that makes sense,” he said, burying his face in his hands. 

“Penelope, I—” his voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.” 

“You’ve already apologized,” Penelope said plainly. 

“It doesn’t feel like enough.” 

“You say you’re better,” she said, sitting a little straighter. “I believe you. And I want to start figuring out what comes next. For Jane, and for us.”

After Colin left—with that tentative hope in his eyes—Penelope sat alone for a long time, quietly replaying every word of their conversation. When the clock finally told her it was time to fetch Jane, she gathered herself and walked to the school.

She waited just outside the doors, where the afternoon chill lingered and the mothers clustered in their little circles. Penelope could feel their eyes on her—the polite smiles, the whispered curiosity that always trailed behind a single mother at a private school.

She almost laughed. If they only knew. If they knew that Jane’s father was a man clawing his way back from addiction, a man who had vanished for six years and returned with nothing but regret and hope—they’d probably faint right there beside the carpool lane.

Jane burst through the doors out of the hands of Miss Brooks when she saw Penelope. 

“You have to wait, Jane!” the teacher called. Penelope frowned at her daughter. 

“You need to listen to Miss Brooks,” she scolded. Jane frowned petulantly, a bit of Portia showing in her features. 

Miss Brooks came up and crouched beside Jane. “You have to wait until we call your name. It’s for safety, Jane. We have to make sure you go home with the right parent and don’t wander off into traffic.” 

Penelope smiled. She liked Jane’s teacher. The young woman was always blunt with Jane in a way she understood. 

“I’m sorry, Miss Brooks.” Jane said, looking at her feet. 

The woman waved them off. “See you tomorrow, Jane.”

Jane chattered all the way home, sparing Penelope from dwelling on her own restless thoughts

“I told everyone about my meteorite,” She said as they turned the last corner before their flat. “Amanda didn’t believe me. She said I was lying. Can I take it to school to show her?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, love,” Penelope said. “You might lose it.” 

“I would never lose it!” 

“Then you might spill milk on it at lunch.” 

Jane laughed. 

They entered the flat and Jane rushed off to the kitchen, dropping her bag and leaving her shoes in the entryway. 

Penelope sighed. Maybe now that she has a father, he can deal with some of this.

The thought made her smile. 

“Can I have some crisps?” Jane called from the kitchen.

“Crisps?” Penelope asked aghast. “First, have some fruit. We have bananas. Then maybe you can have some crisps.”

Jane grumbled but took a banana from the bowl and began peeling it. 

She sat at the small kitchen table and ate the banana, humming to herself as she did so. Penelope watched her daughter, quietly gauging her mood. Would today be the right moment to tell her about her father? 

Jane seemed chipper. There had been no calls from her teachers throughout the day. 

Despite Penelope’s reluctance to broach the issue, out of her own selfishness, she knew that this would be the best time. She sat at the table across from Jane.

“Jane, love,” Penelope began. “I need to talk to you about something serious.” 

Jane paused mid-chew to look at her mother. Her little eyes searched Penelope’s face. 

“Am I in trouble?” 

Penelope shook her head. “No, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Is someone sick?” 

“No, Jane.”

Jane’s brow furrowed. She wasn’t always good at reading other people’s moods, but she knew her mother’s well enough to sense when something big was coming.

“Do you remember asking about your dad?” Penelope asked.

Jane nodded. “You said he was away.”

“That’s right,” Penelope said softly. “He was away because he had some problems. But he’s been getting better for a long time now.”

Jane looked puzzled. “Is he still away?”

Penelope took a breath. “No, love. He’s back. And… you’ve met him.”

Jane blinked. “I have?”

“Yes,” Penelope said. Her voice trembled slightly, but she smiled through it. “It’s Colin. Colin is your dad.” 

“Colin?” Jane’s expression was unreadable.

“Yes, love,” Penelope said, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Jane’s ear. “He’s your dad. He wants to know you, and you’ll get to see him more now.”

Jane frowned slightly, thinking. “But… why wasn’t he here before?”

“He had some problems he needed to fix,” Penelope said honestly but simply. “It wasn’t your fault, and it wasn’t mine. But he’s getting better now, and he wants to be in your life.”

Jane nodded slowly, still absorbing the information. She didn’t speak for a moment, then asked, in her precise, deliberate way:

“Do I call him ‘Dad’ now?”

Penelope paused, she hadn’t actually thought of that. “You can call him whatever feels right.” 

Jane frowned. “Charlotte calls her dad ‘Papa’. I don’t like that. I don’t like Puh sounds.” 

Penelope barked a surprised laugh. “You don’t have to call him anything you don’t want to.” 

Jane stared down at her half-eaten banana for a moment in silence. “Colin liked my rocks.”

Penelope gave a watery smile. “He did. You know, he had a rock collection when he was a kid as well.” 

Jane glanced up at that. “Really?” 

Penelope nodded. “Yes, the meteorite he gave you was given to him by his dad, Edmund.” 

“Grandma Violet told me my grandpa was a nice man.” 

“He was a very nice man. Colin loved him very much. He would have loved you as well.” 

“Will my dad love me?”

“He already loves you,” Penelope said resolutely, wanting to leave no room for doubt in her daughter. 

“I liked watching Wild Kratts with Colin,” Jane said, avoiding Penelope’s gaze. “Can he watch it again with us?” 

“I think he would really like that,” Penelope said. 

“Is he going to live with us?” 

“For now,” Penelope paused, “he’ll still live with Grandma. But he can visit you here, or we can go to Grandma’s and see him there.”

Jane was silent for a few moments before she ran off, leaving Penelope alone in the kitchen. She heard the door of her room shut and released a breath. 

Jane would need time. Time to process, time to understand all these big changes. 

Penelope waited a few moments before her curiosity got the better of her. She tiptoed quietly down the hall and cracked open Jane’s door. Jane lay on the floor, her red curls spiraled out all around her. She lined up her rock collection one by one; jaspar, pyrite, coal, quartz, the geodes and then the meteorite. 

She held the meteorite in her hand, running her thumb over its surface before setting it down and lining the rocks up again. Penelope watched quietly, realizing this was Jane’s way of processing — through action, not words.

She knocked softly on the door. “Pizza for dinner?” 

Jane nodded. Penelope turned away from the room when she heard Jane call out: 

“Is Colin going to leave again?” 

Penelope froze and turned. Jane was looking up at her, fear and hope in her eyes. 

“No, Jane. He’s not leaving this time.” 

Jane’s vision went back to the rocks she was lining up. 

“That’s good.” 

Penelope smiled softly, letting the quiet fill the room, grateful for the small, steady start of this new chapter.

Chapter Text

Colin had been staring at his phone for two days, waiting for some sort of communication from Penelope. The night after their talk, Penelope reached out, texting Colin that she told Jane that he was her father. 

She seems receptive to the idea. I think you might still be Colin to her for a while. This is a big change. She needs a little time to process. 

He didn’t care what she called him. He just wanted to be there for her. Since then he had been waiting, very impatiently. Penelope kept him informed of their daughter’s activities.Telling him if she had a good day at school, what she did that evening. She told Colin that Jane asked questions about him. What he did, what he liked. That warmed his heart a little. 

Tonight he sat alone in the kitchen, eating crisps and half watching TikToks when his mother walked in. 

“Any word tonight?” Violet asked, pouring herself a glass of water. 

Colin shook his head. “Nothing yet.” 

“Give her a little time,” Violet said. “Change is a big deal for Jane.” 

They hadn’t spoken much of it since Jane’s birthday. Colin knew that thanks to Eloise and Benedict that his entire family was aware that he knew he was Jane’s father. 

“Was it difficult?” Colin asked his mother. “Keeping this secret from me every time you saw me over the last few years?” 

Violet sighed. The pain was evident in her face. “Yes,” she finally said. “But the few times I did see you, you were in no state to know the truth. It broke my heart every single time.”

He gave a small, rueful laugh. “I know I’ve apologized for everything, Mum, but there’s one thing I haven’t said sorry for.”

Violet tilted her head, wary but curious.

He met her eyes. “For making you share a granddaughter with Portia Featherington.”

Violet’s expression faltered—then, despite herself, she laughed.

“Is it terrible that the first thing I thought when Penelope told me was that I would be forced to spend holidays with Portia?” 

They laughed together, the sound healing something broken in them both. 

“We never got along well when Penelope was growing up. There were too many times that poor girl came over here in tears because of something her mother said, but she’s…evened out over the past few years. Perhaps there’s something to be said for being a grandmother.” 

Colin hummed. “Penelope said that Jane really likes Portia.” 

“It kills me,” Violet said, sitting down with a laugh. “I’m trying so hard to be the favorite grandmother. With Auggie and Belinda, there’s no competition. But Charlotte has Mary, who is a lovely woman, and Jane has Portia.”

Colin’s smile turned broad. “You always blamed Dad for our competitive streak, but I’m beginning to think it comes from you.” 

“If you mention it to any of your siblings, I’ll deny it.” 

Colin smiled. His phone buzzed, his heart beating wildly when Penelope’s name flashed across. 

Penelope: Jane asked if you would like to come and watch more Wild Kratts tonight?

Penelope: Fair warning, they will likely be the same episodes we watched before. 

Colin was standing before he even realized it. He turned to his mother who was giving him a worried look. 

“Uh—I’m going to go to Penelope’s flat,” he said. Violet beamed and nodded. Colin replied to Penelope.

Colin: I sense a lot of judgement coming from the woman who orders the exact same dish every time we get Italian. 

Penelope: What can I say? We like what we like.

Colin: I’m on my way.

Colin wiped his sweaty palms on his pants for at least the thirtieth time since he left the house. He stood outside Penelope’s flat and knocked on the door. 

Just like the last time he was here, he heard Jane’s quick patter of footsteps rush to the door. 

The door opened and Penelope stood there, smiling brightly, looking so beautiful in her oversized hoodie and leggings that he thought he might faint. A small head of red curls popped out from behind her waist. 

Jane eyed him curiously. 

“Do you want to watch cartoons?” She mumbled from her perch behind Penelope. 

Colin smiled. “Hello, Jane. Yes, I’d love to.” 

Jane ran back into the living room. Colin looked to Penelope. 

“She’s excited,” she said, a small smile on her face. 

“Mum!” Jane called out from the couch. “Can we have popcorn?”

“Alright, I’ll make some popcorn.” Penelope waved an arm towards the living room. “Why don’t you go wait with Jane?” 

Colin froze and felt like she had asked him to jump off a roof. He stared at the small mop of red curls on the couch. 

There were so many ways he already messed up. So many more ways he could mess this up. How was he expected to be a father? How could he take care of a child when he could barely take care of himself?

A gentle hand on his arm brought him out of his thoughts. Penelope looked up at him with a soft expression. 

“Whatever horrible spiral you were just in: Stop.”

Something in her voice—steady, familiar—reached through the noise in his head before he even realized she’d moved closer.

“Just stop?” he asked with a nervous laugh. 

Penelope nodded resolutely. “Stop.” 

“I’m cured.” he said smiling at her. “I’ll tell my doctor I don’t need sertraline anymore. Penelope Featherington said ‘Stop.’”

Penelope’s shoulders relaxed a little and before Colin realized what was happening, she had wrapped her arms around his middle bringing him closer. Colin’s breathing stilled, his heart pounded but he was powerless to do anything except hug her back. 

“You’re going to be great,” Penelope said, her cheek against his sternum. He wondered if she could feel his heart racing.

Colin released a breath. “Thanks, Pen.” 

She pulled away and walked into the kitchen, leaving Colin alone again. 

He took a deep, fortifying breath and walked to the couch to join Jane. 

She used the remote to scroll through the episodes. Her brow furrowed as she read the titles. 

“Honey badgers?” She asked without looking at him. “That one’s funny.” 

Colin nodded. “You watched that one without me last time, so I haven’t seen it yet.” 

Jane clicked play. Colin tried to pay attention to the Kratts’ expansive knowledge of animals, but his mind could only focus on the little girl sitting beside him. 

She bounced slightly during the theme song, she laughed at the silly antics on the screen as if she hadn’t just watched them before. Colin found himself watching her more than the television. Jane caught him at one point and frowned indignantly. 

“You have to watch, Colin. You’re going to miss it!” She pointed to the television. 

“Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly while turning back towards the screen. 

Penelope slipped in quietly on the other side of Jane, passing the bowl of popcorn to her daughter. Jane ate a few pieces before glancing at Colin through the side of her eyes.

“Want some?” She asked with a mouth full of popcorn as she held the bowl out to him. 

Colin took a small handful. “Thanks, Jane.” 

She nodded and went back to watching her show. Penelope glanced between them occasionally but said nothing. 

After several episodes—the same ones from before, as Penelope predicted—they settled into a quiet rhythm. Jane and Colin sharing snacks. Penelope quietly watching them while pretending not to. 

While the credits rolled after the narwhal episode, Jane glanced at him again.

“When the Kratts were little, did their dad teach them about animals?” she asked.

Colin blinked. “Maybe. I think their dad probably liked that they were curious.”

Jane nodded, satisfied. Then she leaned sideways, just slightly, until her shoulder rested against his arm. “I like animals too.”

Colin swallowed hard. “I know.”

She didn’t move away, and he didn’t breathe for a long time.

Across Jane’s curls, Penelope caught his eye. She didn’t say anything, but the smile she gave him felt like a small, hard-won victory.

Jane suddenly sat up straight and looked at Penelope. 

“Can Colin meet Arlo?” 

Penelope’s eyes grew wide for a moment. Colin wondered about her strange reaction. 

“Who’s Arlo?” Colin asked innocently.  

“Arlo’s my best friend!” Jane said, smiling. “We’re meeting them at the playground tomorrow! He couldn’t come to my birthday, but his dad promised me a birthday cupcake.”

Colin smiled, but noticed how Penelope tensed. “That sounds wonderful. I’d love to meet him if it’s alright with your mum.” 

Penelope nodded, avoiding his gaze. “That’s a great idea, Jane!” 

Jane bounced a bit happy to have her way. “Arlo doesn’t talk, but Mummy says I talk enough for both of us.” 

Colin laughed softly and met Penelope’s gaze, but she looked away nervously. 

“Pen,” Colin drawled, he knew that something was bothering her about Colin meeting Jane’s friend. 

Penelope looked at him and sighed. 

“Jane, Colin’s going to help me with something in the kitchen for a moment, alright?” 

Jane hummed without looking away from the television screen. 

Colin followed Penelope into the kitchen and noticed the way that she wrung her hands together. 

“What’s wrong?” Colin asked when they were alone. “You got nervous when she mentioned her friend’s dad.” 

Colin narrowed his eyes, trying to be playful and ignoring the spike of jealousy he had no right to feel. “Did you shag his dad, Pen?” 

He was only half-joking. The idea of anyone else orbiting Penelope’s life made something sharp twist in his chest.

Penelope’s eyes widened before they narrowed in angrily. “I did not, not that it’s any of your business who I shag.” She punctuated her sentence with a hard jab into his chest. 

Colin held up his hands in defense. “Fair point. So what’s the problem?” 

Penelope sighed. “You know his dad. You don’t like his dad and I’m pretty certain he doesn’t like you either.” 

Colin stepped back for a moment, trying to think of who possibly could be Arlo’s dad. He hadn’t been in the same circles as Penelope for years and he couldn’t possibly think of who—

“Reginald Fife,” she said abruptly.

Colin froze, then blinked.

“Reg—fucking—Fife?”

“Watch your language,” Penelope hissed, checking to see that Jane was still enthralled by her television. “And yes!” 

Colin stared at her, horrified. “He was such an asshole in school. To me. To you.” 

Colin recollected being sixteen and coming to blows with Fife over his lewd comments about Penelope. The boys pummeled each other bloody and both were suspended.

“I remember,” Penelope said, crossing her arms. “Which is why I’m not shagging him anytime soon.” 

Colin’s mouth hung open. “How—How does this even happen?” 

“We met—or met again, I suppose— last year at the sensory friendly hour at soft play,” Penelope explained. “They lower the lights, keep it quieter and there’s less children there. Arlo’s autism is more severe than Jane’s. He’s non-verbal, doesn’t like any loud noises and can’t handle large groups of people. That’s why they couldn’t come to Jane’s birthday.” 

Colin nodded. Penelope continued. 

“They took to each other really quickly. Reggie and I—”

“Reggie,” 

“Reggie and I decided to put the past behind for our children. It’s hard for kids like them to make friends. He apologized for the way he acted in school. He’s so much calmer now, Colin. He’s matured and I think you better than anyone realize that we shouldn’t judge others by their past mistakes.” 

Colin groaned. “That’s a low blow, Pen.” 

Penelope smirked. “For Jane’s sake, I need you to be nice to him.” 

Colin nodded solemnly. 

“What about Arlo’s mum?” Colin asked. “Have you ever met her?”

Penelope frowned. “She died when Arlo was a baby. Car accident.”

“And he never once tried to make a move on you?” Colin asked skeptically. 

Penelope shook her head. “I don’t think he dates at all. After what happened to his wife and Arlo’s diagnosis—He’s very protective of his son.”  

Colin nodded slowly. The years hadn’t been kind to Fife, but they hadn’t been kind to him either—and unlike Fife, he couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

Jane’s laughter rang from the living room, sharp and bright. Colin’s chest tightened. Whatever he thought of Reginald Fife, he couldn’t deny one thing: Jane deserved happiness and Colin wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that friendship.

Chapter Text

“Colin, what is this?” Violet asked her son. The little boy was bent over his LEGO, furiously connecting the bricks together. His mother took the crumpled up papers from the rubbish. 

“Is this the comic you were making? Why is it in the bin?” 

Colin shrugged without looking up. “It wasn’t any good.”

“But you were working on it all last week! You have almost a novel’s worth of drawings here.” 

“It’s terrible,” he said. “I’m terrible at everything.”

Penelope had been playing with Colin. They were playing pirates but Eloise took her away to play on the seesaw. Colin watched Penelope’s red hair bounce as she laughed with each descend. 

Alone. 

He was completely alone. Penelope didn’t want to play with him. No one wanted to play with him. Colin wasn’t worth playing with. No one liked him. 

“He’s so moody,” Anthony complained to their mother when they thought he wasn’t listening. “It was meant to be funny. We tease the others all the time. Colin’s the only one who can’t take a joke.” 

“He feels things differently than the others.” Violet said. “Please, just don’t tease him.”

“He’s a drama queen,” Benedict laughed. 

Colin clenched his fists, digging his nails into his skin until it bled.

“Colin Bridgerton!” The instructor called out to him in the hall. The other children looked at him curiously. “You left your book in the classroom.” 

The man handed Colin the textbook and walked away. 

How could he forget it? He was an idiot. The other children were moving along, they weren’t actually looking at him. They didn’t care, but something in his mind told him they were staring. They were laughing. He was a moron. He couldn’t even remember his own book. Colin, the dumbest Bridgerton.

His mother had called Uncle Nicholas, asking for help. Anthony was at university. His father was dead. Violet didn’t know what to do. 

“You’re not in trouble,” She said calmly. “We’re just trying to understand why.”

“Why did you run away from school, Colin?” Uncle Nicholas asked. 

Colin said nothing. He sat in the corner of the dining room, wrapping his arms around his knees and pulling them in. He buried his face. They hated him. His family hated him. He was nothing but a disappointment. He shouldn’t exist. 

“I don’t know what to do when he does this,” he heard his mother say. “He’ll be like this for hours.”  

“Why are you ignoring me?” Penelope demanded. Colin shrugged. 

“You canceled our plans.” 

“My mum made me. I got in trouble because of my test scores. You texted me twenty times in one hour and then ignored me for a week!” 

“Whatever,” Colin said, turning away from her. He was used to the rejection from everyone else, but not Penelope. It hurt more when it was from Penelope.

“You can’t keep cutting class, Colin!” 

“You’re not my dad. You’re just my brother.” 

“But I’m the one who has to deal with you because apparently you won’t listen to Mother.” 

“I think I’m going to quit uni.” 

The only sound on the line was Daphne’s quiet breathing. 

“Anthony is going to lose it.” 

Colin shrugged, even though she couldn’t see him. 

“I don’t really care.” 

Marina came up to him, her fingers twitching. “George called,” she said. “He’s got some. Said we can come by whenever.” 

The promise of a high made Colin’s pulse race. “Gotta go, Daph.” 

“Colin.” Dr. Shah’s voice called him out of his memories. 

Colin hadn’t stopped pacing since he arrived at her office. 

Dr. Shah’s hands were folding demurely in her lap. She hadn’t stopped him from wearing a hole in her carpet. She likely thought he needed to burn off some of his energy. 

“I’m not ready for this,” he said, running his hands through his hair for the tenth time. 

“You found out a week ago. Your nervous system is understandably overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed,” he repeated, almost laughing. “That’s a poetic way of saying I’m losing my mind.”

“You’re not losing your mind. You’re panicking. The circumstances are big enough to justify it.”

He stopped pacing and stared at her, chest heaving. “She’s six.”

“Yes.”

“And she’s mine.”

“Yes.”

“And Penelope—Pen—she’s been doing all of this alone. Because of me.” His voice cracked.

Dr. Shah didn’t interrupt. Not her style. She let him work through it.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he said. “I don’t know how to be in her life without screwing everything up. I don’t want to have to be something she has to recover from.” 

Dr. Shah tilted her head slightly. “Tell me why you think you would ruin her life.”

“I have a track record,” he snapped. Then winced. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just answer the question.”

He dropped onto the sofa, eyes hollow. “I’ve made a mess of everything. I dropped out of uni for no reason. I burned every bridge I had. And then the drugs— That’s not ancient history. I'm sober, but it’s still right there, like it’s waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” she asked.

“For me to screw up.”

Dr. Shah nodded slowly, not dismissing it. “That fear is real. It’s also part of your recovery. You’re not unique in that. Parents in recovery often imagine their child is a test they’ll inevitably fail.”

Colin swallowed. “What if that’s true?”

“It isn’t,” she said simply. “You’re not doomed to repeat your past. And you’re not alone. Penelope has already proven she isn’t shutting you out. You reached out to me instead of spiraling in silence. You’re showing me the opposite of what you fear.”

He rubbed his jaw, eyes stinging. “I don’t want to let her down.”

“You’ll let her down sometimes,” Dr. Shah said, gentle but honest. “Every parent does. The goal is not perfection. The goal is repair. Showing up. Staying present.”

“I’m scared.”

“It would concern me more if you weren’t.”

Silence settled, thick enough to breathe.

He swallowed. “Is it… genetic?”

“Autism? Possibly. You said her grandmother shows similar traits. But you don’t have those traits, Colin.”

“I wasn’t talking about autism.” Colin paused for a beat.“I meant… the other thing.”

Dr. Shah’s gaze sharpened. “You can say the name of it.”

He shifted on the sofa. “I’d rather not. I don’t… like the label.”

“You don’t have to like it,” she said gently. “But you avoid it entirely. That matters. You were diagnosed during rehab, and you’ve dodged saying it ever since. Pretending it isn’t there doesn’t make it disappear.”

“Feels like if I say it out loud, it becomes a prophecy.”

“You’re afraid of becoming the version of yourself you worked so hard to grow past. That’s not a prophecy. That’s vigilance.”

He looked up, eyes raw. 

“Have you told your family?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not a soul.”

“I think you should.”

“Right. So they can confirm I’m broken.”

“Knowledge helps people understand what they’ve been witnessing but couldn’t name,” she said. “Your mother especially. You’re a parent now. Imagine watching your child suffer and not knowing why.”

He stared at the floor.

“Drink some water,” she added lightly. “You look like your nervous system is trying to evacuate.”

That startled a laugh out of him. He wiped his face, picked up the glass.

“Same time next week?”

He nodded, voice rough. “Yeah. Please.”

When Colin left Dr. Shah’s office, he immediately joined Penelope and Jane at the park for their playdate.

He didn’t miss the suspicious looks Penelope gave him.

“I’m on my best behavior,” he assured her.

Penelope hummed a response.

Jane bounced about a bit when she saw him. 

“Colin!” she said excitedly. “You get to meet Arlo! He’s my best friend. He likes the blue slide the best.” 

“Do you like to slide?” Colin asked as he walked in step with Jane and Penelope. 

Jane nodded. “Yes, but I don’t like the blue slide. I like the green slide.” 

Colin leaned toward Penelope. “Is there a big difference?” he asked quietly. 

“Not that I can tell,” Penelope said with a shrug. “But they’re kids.” 

Colin chuckled to himself. Despite all of the differences that set Jane apart from other children, there was still plenty she had in common with them. 

“I told Reggie I was bringing you,” Penelope said softly. Colin couldn’t help the small twinge of irritation at her easy familiarity with the man. Maybe it was worse because he knew Reg from their youth.

Would he feel the same if it were some other father he’d never met?

Yes.

Despite having no claim to her time or her company, he wanted both. He wanted to covet every piece of her, to leave nothing for anyone else.

When they were children, Eloise had always stolen Penelope’s time, and Colin could never seem to get a moment alone with her. Even then, he’d wanted every bit of her attention for himself. He hadn’t understood what that feeling meant—not until years later, when his own life had already fallen apart.

He’d hoped he could prove himself to her now, show her how much he’d changed. Even before he knew Jane was his, he wanted to be part of their lives.

As they stepped into the park, Jane said “There’s Arlo!” 

She took off before they could respond. 

“That’s a bad habit she has,” Penelope muttered. “Running off.” 

She picked up speed to catch up with Jane who had rushed to two figures standing near the swings. 

The taller one was Reginald Fife. A man Colin hadn’t seen since uni. He stood by his son, his hands in the pocket of his jacket, eyeing Colin suspiciously over the wire rims of his glasses. 

“Why does he have such thin little glasses?” Colin muttered. 

“Are you just going to find random things to hate about him?” 

“I’ve fried all my synapses, Penelope. One of the few things that brings me joy is being petty.” 

Penelope laughed. Colin smiled. His eyes went to the small boy beside him. He was short, shorter than Jane. Long blonde locks dangled just below his chin, a set of large headphones on his head. Colin remembered what Penelope said about Arlo not being able to tolerate much noise. 

Arlo’s eyes lit up as Jane approached. In his hand was a bright purple gift bag that he held up when she was near. 

Reg smiled warmly at Jane. “Happy late birthday, Jane,” he said. “Arlo picked this out for you himself.” 

“A present!” she said, taking the bag. She set it on the ground and began ripping the tissue paper from it wildly. 

“Don’t litter, Jane!” Penelope scolded as they approached the small group. “Hello, Reggie. You remember Colin.” 

“Morning, Penelope,” Reg smiled at her, then turned to Colin and said coldly “Bridgerton.” 

“Fife.” 

“A cupcake from Sugar Crumb!” Jane said excitedly as she held up the small baker’s box. 

“What’s Sugar Crumb?” Colin asked Penelope

“A new little bakery,” Penelope said. “They use a lot of bright colored buttercreams. The kids love it.” 

Jane was peeking in the box at her treat when Arlo began waving at her and pointing in the bag. 

“Oh, there’s more?” Jane asked. She looked back in the gift bag. 

She pulled out a small box. “Stars!” she exclaimed before frowning. “Mummy, what’s this word?” 

Penelope crouched beside Jane and took the box. “Projector,” she said slowly trailing her finger along the word as she pronounced it to Jane. “It’s a star projector! It can show the stars on your walls at night.” 

Jane’s face lit up and she took the box back from Penelope. “Whoa!”  

“What do you say?” Penelope prompted. 

“Thanks, Arlo! Thanks, Arlo’s dad!” 

Arlo flapped his hands once and smiled wide, his eyes fixed on the box.

Reg smiled. “You’re welcome, Jane.”

Arlo began pointing to the slides and tugging on Jane’s hand. 

“We’re going to the slides!” Jane said as the two ran off. 

The children left the adults there standing awkwardly. Colin could feel Penelope shifting on her feet beside him. 

“It’s getting colder,” Penelope commented as she pulled her cardigan around her tighter. 

Reg nodded watching the kids. “Winter will be here before we know it.” 

“Can’t believe Christmas is sneaking up on us,” Penelope gave a strained laugh. 

Colin shot her a look. Really? Weather talk?

Penelope shrugged. 

“How’s school been for Jane?” Reg asked. “Haverliegh still good? I know Anthony Bridgerton swears by it.” 

Penelope laughed. Colin grit his teeth. 

“She loves it there,” Penelope said. “How’s Willowbrook?” 

“Good,” Reg nodded. “Arlo’s getting better with signs.” 

“That’s wonderful,” Penelope replied. 

“Colin!” Jane called out, his heart beat a little faster at the call. “Come and see! Arlo found a caterpillar.” 

“Can’t miss this,” Colin said, anxious to get away from the awkwardness of the conversation. He walked across the grass towards Jane and Arlo. Colin tried to shrug off the tight knot of irritation that formed at the adults’ small talk. Why was it so hard to be around people? He didn’t miss the looks Reg gave him. The man likely knew exactly what Colin had been up to the last few years. It wasn’t really a secret in his family’s circles. Poor Bridgertons with their wayward junkie son. 

He shook the thought from his head. He was trying. Penelope had faith in him, she was giving him a chance. Jane was giving him a chance. That’s all that mattered right now and he wasn’t going to mess this up. 

Jane and Arlo were crouched low watching intently as the little fuzzy creature crawled along a twig. Colin crouched beside them.

Arlo looked up to Colin and pointed to the caterpillar, grinning brightly. 

“Yeah, mate. That’s really neat,” he said softly to the little boy. 

Arlo glanced at Colin again, his face now more suspicious. He tapped Jane and the shoulder and then pointed to Colin. 

“Oh, he’s Colin,” Jane said. Arlo pursed his lips. Jane looked at Colin and then leaned in closer to whisper near Arlo’s ear, which was covered by the large yellow headphones. Jane’s voice wasn’t nearly as quiet as she thought. 

“He’s my dad,” she said in her loud whisper. Colin’s throat tightened. It was the first time she had acknowledged this and he had to fight every instinct in his body to not react.

Arlo held out both hands palm up, moving them in a half circle motion. Jane leaned in again and whispered:

“Mum said he was away.”

Arlo narrowed his eyes as if he were not satisfied with that answer. Colin wanted to laugh but was trying very hard to pretend he couldn’t hear his daughter’s whisper shouts. 

The two children went back to staring at the bug. It moved along slowly and neither of them took their eyes from it. They were completely content to observe its slow trek up the twig. 

Colin sat there for what felt like ages, watching the children watch the caterpillar. All around them children were running, laughing, screaming, but these two were content to remain in their own little calm world that consisted of only them and a fuzzy caterpillar inching along. 

Eventually, Colin’s knees began to hurt and he had to stand. He heard the footsteps beside him and turned to see Penelope and Reg coming up to join him. 

“Nature watching?” Penelope asked, smiling warmly at the children. 

“Very intently,” Colin nodded. 

As soon as Jane heard Penelope, her little head popped up. 

“Mummy, can you push us on the swings?” 

“Do you want me to push you, Arlo?” Reg asked his son. The little boy shook his head and pointed to Penelope. 

“Mummy is the best pusher,” Jane explained to the men.

“Alright, alright,” Penelope said following the kids to the swingset. Suddenly, Colin was left alone with Reginald Fife. He shuffled slightly on his feet, feeling the tension radiating from the man beside him. 

“They really get on great together,” Colin broke the tension, nodding towards the children. Reg nodded. 

“Arlo always gets excited to see Jane. She accepts him as he is, she doesn’t try to push or change him.” 

Colin’s eyes immediately drifted to Penelope. She was laughing while moving from one child to another, giving them each small pushes. 

She had always been the same way. As a child, no one ever knew why Colin was so different from his siblings. Penelope never told him he was overreacting. Penelope never told him to calm down or tone down. She was the only one who ever made him feel worthy. 

“Penelope told me about your wife,” Colin said. “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

Reg nodded. “Thank you. It was very unexpected. Drunk driver.” 

The words bore a hint of accusation, as though Colin were responsible for every alcoholic and addict in the city of London. 

Colin nodded. It seemed the safest option. 

“Heard you had a rough few years,” Reg said, his eyes remaining on his son. Colin sighed. He should have known this was coming. 

“Yeah. Had some rough patches, but getting better. You know, life keeps teaching you things.”

“That it does,” Reg said. “Are you planning on sticking around in that girl’s life or running off again?” 

The words were full of venom. Colin’s gaze snapped to the man. 

“Excuse me?” 

Reg looked at him, unimpressed. “It wasn’t too hard to figure out you were the father when I first met Jane. In school, you were never far from Penelope. And the girl has a Bridgerton look to her.” 

Colin glanced at Jane. All he saw was Penelope. In her eyes, her hair, her laugh. Jane might end up with his height, but other than that he couldn’t see a single trait his daughter inherited from him. 

“Arlo has very few friends,” Reg continued. “Even his own cousins don’t understand him fully. Jane has been good for him so I’m very protective of their friendship. We all grew up together, Bridgerton. We all remember what Archibald Featherington’s demise did to those girls.” 

Colin inhaled and clenched his jaw. Once again, he was being compared to Archibald Featherington and he hated it. 

“I remember you being the ringleader of those morons who taunted Penelope about her father.” 

“And I’ve apologized to her for being an asshole when I was fourteen. Luckily, she’s not holding the things I did as a dumb teenager over me. Are you?”

“Maybe,” Colin said. Reg laughed. The sound escaped him as though he didn’t want it to. 

“You never apologized to me,” Colin said with a smirk. 

“I’m sorry for bloodying your nose,” Reg said. 

“I”m sorry for dislocating your shoulder,” Colin replied. 

A less tense silence settled between the men as they watched Penelope. 

“I’m staying,” Colin said finally. 

Reg nodded. “She’s a great kid. You should be proud.” 

Colin scoffed. “I didn’t do anything to be proud of. That was all Penelope.” 

Reg looked at him then, a slight smile on his face. “You’ve still got time.” 

Colin supposed he did. A lifetime’s worth. The thought was unsettling…and a little hopeful.

Chapter Text

Penelope walked up to Bridgerton house with Jane. She couldn’t help feeling nervous. This was far from her first dinner with the Bridgertons. But this was the first one since Colin returned. It was also the first one since the secret had come out. 

Discussions of Jane’s father would no longer be whispered between the family members when they thought Penelope was out of earshot. 

It was a relief that it was all in the open. Penelope never realized how much stress the not-so-secret secret was causing her. 

Jane opened the door and burst inside. 

“Grandma! We’re here!” 

“I’m in the kitchen, Jane!” Violet’s voice rang through the house.

Jane looked about the foyer, glancing in the living room where a number of Bridgertons were already assembled. 

“Where’s Colin?” she asked. 

Penelope’s heart swelled with how much her daughter had already taken to Colin. It was as if they already knew each other. She still couldn’t remember Reggie’s name. And for the longest time Sophie was “Ben’s Girlfriend Sophie”  

But Jane latched onto Colin so quickly. She hadn’t called him “Dad” yet and Penelope didn’t want to force her. It would come when she was ready. 

“Jane! Pen!” A voice called out from the stairs. Colin stepped down hurriedly. Jane turned and beamed at him. 

“Colin!” she rushed to his side and did her excited little hops while taking his hand. Colin returned her smile, his entire face lighting up at the sight of Jane. 

Penelope’s heart beat faster. Every day he was showing that his recovery was permanent. He spent time with Jane after school, joined them at the park, listened to her diatribes on whatever sparked her interest that day. 

Colin looked healthier, he laughed. But Penelope noticed they never spoke of them. They were never actually together. Just a stolen night together and a few love confessions that were buried over time. 

Did Colin still care about her? 

The more progress he made in recovery, the more he seemed like his old self. The happy, passionate, excitable man she fell in love with. Penelope tried to guard her heart, but found that it was impossible. 

Loving Colin Bridgerton was in her marrow. She couldn’t separate it from herself. And despite all his troubles, he gave her Jane. Jane was the reason she could never hate him. 

“Did I tell you about the enigma machine?” she asked him. 

“You did,” Colin replied. “But tell me again.” 

Penelope made her way to the kitchen, leaving them to talk. It was also nice to have someone else to listen to Jane recite the same facts over and over. 

Violet was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on her dinner with the help of Daphne. 

“Do you want to go sit down, Daphne?” she asked. “I can help with that.” 

“No, it’s fine!” Daphne said. Moving around had obviously become a chore at this late stage in her pregnancy. “I’m trying to keep active. Hopefully, I can trigger my labor.” 

“Don’t give birth at dinner,” Eloise said, joining them. “Mum. Where’s the wine?” 

Violet shot Eloise a look. “You know we can’t have wine.” 

Eloise sighed. “Is that a forever thing?” 

“Yes,” Violet rubbed her forehead. “You will survive one evening without it.” 

Violet smiled and looked at Penelope, desperately hoping to change the subject. “How has Colin been with Jane? He seems in much better spirits lately.” 

“They’ve been great together,” Penelope said. 

Violet nodded, her eyes misting. “I’ve prayed for this for years. I’m so glad everything is working out.” 

Penelope’s heart ached for Violet. She knew that Colin’s erratic behavior over the past few years had affected her the most. Penelope knew the fear that came with wanting to help your child, but not being able to help them when the problem is their mind.

She helped Violet with a bowl or two, traded a few more soft comments, and then the noise from the foyer shifted—Jane’s bright voice, Charlotte’s sharper one. 

Penelope excused herself, wiping her palms on her skirt as she stepped back through the hallway. She heard Colin’s voice before she saw him as she approached the living room. He laughed at something Benedict said, his head thrown back, sleeves rolled up.

Then his gaze shifted to Jane. She spotted him leaning forward in his chair, listening to Jane with that intent, delighted focus he never quite lost as a younger man. The sight warmed something in her that she’d been trying very hard not to warm at all. 

Charlotte and Jane sat at the table, a game of cards in progress. Penelope smiled. She loved when the girls managed to get along. 

Belinda rushed into the room. “Charlotte! Jane!” she said excitedly. “I have a new doll. Do you want to come play with my dolls?” 

Charlotte jumped up, her cards falling to the ground. “Yeah! Come on, Jane.” 

Jane frowned and looked at the cards. “But we haven’t finished our game.” 

“So?” Charlotte asked. “I want to play something else now.” 

“But…” Jane stuttered. “We have to finish.” 

Penelope tensed. Deja vu creeping in as the girls' voices turned sharp.

“No, we don’t." Charlotte said, becoming more frustrated. “We can just leave it.” 

Penelope could see Jane’s cheeks reddening, she could feel the tightness growing at the back of her neck. She tried to step in to prevent the meltdown. Penelope crouched beside her daughter and put a hand on her shoulder. Charlotte tapped her foot impatiently.

“Jane,” she said calmly. “Remember when we talked about things changing and that it’s ok? Sometimes we might not get to do things exactly the way we want to do them.” 

“I know.” Jane said stiffly, trying very hard not to give in to the emotions that were warring across her face. “I just don’t like to not finish the game.” 

Charlotte groaned dramatically. 

“Charlotte!” Anthony snapped. “Go play with Belinda.” 

The girl left, but Jane still sat there with her cards clutched in her hands. Penelope was suddenly exhausted. 

She was tired of not being able to help her daughter. Tired of having to be vigilant and watch Jane to help her through parts of life that came so easily to other children. Tired of having to tirelessly advocate for her daughter to family, teachers, doctors. 

Tired of things simply never going her way. 

Colin knelt on the floor beside Jane. Penelope had been in such a state of anxiety that she forgot he was in the room. 

“Hey, Jane,” he said softly. “What if I finished the game with you?”

Jane looked at Colin for a moment before nodding slowly. “That’s a good idea. You have to use Charlotte's cards.”

“Alright,” Colin smiled and sat in Charlotte’s spot across from the table. Jane’s shoulders relaxed and soon she was engrossed in the game with Colin. 

Penelope was frozen. Staring for a moment before a hand on her shoulder made her jump. 

“Are you alright, Penelope?” Sophie asked concerned. 

Penelope nodded, forcing a strained smile on her face. “Yeah. I’m just gonna step out.” 

She left the living room briskly. She didn’t want anyone else to see the tears fall. 

The library was blessedly empty. She sat on one of the many plush sofas and put her head between her knees. 

In for four. Hold two. Out for four.

She didn’t know how many times she repeated that before she heard the library door open and softly close. 

“Pen?” Colin said worriedly as he rushed to sit beside her. “What’s wrong?”

Colin’s palm was on her back, the heat searing her through her blouse. 

“Did I do something wrong? Did I overstep?” Anxiety riddled his voice. 

Penelope shook her head and laughed miserably. 

“No, Colin. You didn’t—” her voice broke. “You just— You solved the problem.” She lifted her head up. “It was such an easy solution and I couldn’t see it.” 

“I’m confused, Pen.” 

Penelope shook her head. Tears falling down her cheeks. “Sometimes I just don’t know what to do. I can’t— There’s always something. I’m always having to watch everything around Jane to make sure nothing is going to upset her. Because when she has a meltdown, people don’t think ‘oh, there’s a disabled child.’ They think ‘There’s a bad child with a bad mum who doesn’t know what she’s doing’ and they’re right because most of the time I don’t know what I’m doing. 

“And I don’t know how to diffuse a problem between the girls and validate both of them. Charlotte’s not wrong, Jane’s not wrong. It’s just that their brains work differently and they clash and I’m worried that they will never get along. 

“It’s so hard for her to make friends. The posh mums at Haverleigh look down on me because I’m a single mother. Their kids think Jane’s weird, they think I’m weird. Arlo and Reggie have been a fucking godsend and I’m so thankful you didn’t fight with him and the kids can still be friends.  

“And everything feels like a fight. I feel like I’m constantly in a battle and losing and I’m so tired, Colin. Sometimes I just lay awake at night and think of all the ways I’m letting her down.” 

She wasn’t even sure if she was making sense anymore. Her throat was closing up from her sobs, her tears pooling gathering on her chin and dripping on her shirt. 

Colin didn’t say anything. He pulled her roughly against his chest and let her sob quietly into his shirt. His hand rubbed up and down her back. He held her in his strong embrace until her sobs stopped and her tears dried. 

“Sorry,” Penelope muttered as she tried to move away from him, but Colin held her tight. 

“Don’t apologize,” he said low and hot against her ear. “I’m the one who failed you. You shouldn’t have had to carry all this alone all these years and you won’t have to anymore.”

Colin pulled away so his eyes could meet hers. “I’m here. I don’t know what I’m doing either, but I’m not giving up. Ok, Pen?”

Penelope nodded. 

“I didn’t mean to have a mental breakdown at family dinner,” she said lightly, fanning her face so it wouldn’t appear as red. 

Colin gave her a lopsided grin. “I’ve ruined more dinners than you can count. You’ll never beat my record, Featherington.”

Penelope laughed before steadying herself, wiping the last of the tears from her cheeks as Colin rose and offered his hand. The muffled clatter of plates and voices drifted down the hall.

“Sounds like they’re calling us,” he said softly, and together they stepped out of the library.

The dining room was lively with the chatter of the family settling into their seats. Violet’s roast sat at the center, surrounded by all manner of sides and breads. Colin’s hand was on her lower back and he guided her to two chairs together, as though he was afraid she might try and slip away from him. 

The children were set up together in the more informal dining room where they ate. (Auggie was rather indignant at being lumped with the younger children.)

The dinner was pleasant. Eloise on her right, Colin on her left. It was like their youth when she spent so many weekends and school holidays with the Bridgertons. She knew now that her mother never objected to these stays because of her father’s erratic comings and goings. Penelope and her sisters were often sent away to their friends when Archie would come home broke and having withdrawals. 

She shook away the thoughts. Things were better. Her relationship with her mother was improving, Colin had returned and knew Jane was his daughter, Jane was happy and healthy. All was well. 

Conversation buzzed around them. 

“Are Auggie and Belinda excited for a new sister?” Kate asked Daphne. 

“Belinda is. Auggie is less so.” Daphne replied as she took a bite. 

“Because he remembers Belinda being a baby and crying at all hours of the night,” Simon said. “Belinda is blissfully unaware of the difficulties of a newborn.” 

“Charlotte and Edmund are so close together that she doesn’t remember his baby stage. She’s asking for another brother or sister,” Kate said. 

“Edmund is four now,” Violet said lovingly. “That’s a perfect age gap for him and a new sibling.” 

Penelope noticed the small smile that Kate shot Anthony. She saw Anthony blush slightly and she wondered if in fact Charlotte and Edmund might have a new sibling on the way. 

“Don’t you think there’s enough children in this family?” Eloise asked. 

“There can never be enough children!” Violet said. “I hope to hear from Francesca soon that she and John are expecting. They’ve been married almost a year.” 

“How’s Jane doing with the whole Colin thing?” Gregory asked with as much tact as a bull trying to tiptoe through a greenhouse. Hyacinth must have kicked him beneath the table because he then gave a loud “Ow!” 

There was a bit of silence around the table. Penelope rested her hand on Colin’s thigh, hoping to steady him. 

“She’s doing great!” she said happily. “Jane’s adapted very well and they’ve already got a great rapport.” 

Colin’s shoulders relaxed beside her. Penelope hoped that they could get through the dinner without any issues. She knew his family was a sore spot for him, Anthony couldn’t resist making any number of comments over the years about Colin’s whereabouts. 

Anthony nodded and reached for his water glass. “I’m glad you’re taking this seriously, Colin. Jane needs consistency.”

She felt Colin go still beside her, that brittle stillness that always came right before he broke. Penelope closed her eyes. Willing Anthony to shut up. Willing Colin not to take the bait. But her prayers were not answered. 

Colin tensed again. “Why wouldn’t I take this seriously?”  

Anthony froze at Colin’s tone. “I’m not saying you’re not. It’s just you’ve been…” his voice trailed off. 

The table was silent now. Everyone’s eyes flickering between the two brothers. 

“I’m what?” Colin asked, his voice growing louder. “I’m not dependable? I'm a mess? I’m the family fuck up?” 

Penelope could hear the pain in his voice, the fear of disappointing his family that always lingered. Daphne’s hand rested above her belly. Benedict and Kate looked as if they were telepathically telling Anthony to shut up. Violet’s eyes were brimming with tears. 

“Anthony,” Kate hissed. “Stop.” 

Anthony sighed. “I didn’t say any of that Colin. I’m just trying to say it the right way.” 

“It sounds like you’re wasting no time reminding me of every mistake I’ve ever made.” 

“Brothers,” Benedict began. “Maybe we should take this—”

“I’ve only ever wanted to help you,” Anthony spoke over Benedict. “That’s all I’ve ever tried to do. Instead, I get to clean up every mess you leave behind.” 

“Don’t you ever get tired of being the perfect son? The golden child who never does anything wrong?” Colin’s words were acerbic. Penelope tried to reach for his hand, but his own were gripping the edges of the table, his knuckles white. 

Anthony actually laughs. Short, disbelieving, wounded. “Perfect? You have no idea. I was terrified every time the phone rang. Terrified it was you. Terrified it was Mum telling me you’d—” He cut himself off. His jaw worked back and forth. “I kept asking myself what was wrong with you, why nothing we did ever stuck—”

Colin flinched barely, it was only a flicker but Penelope felt it like lightning. 

Colin’s chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood. “You want to know what’s wrong with me?” His voice was loud, pained. “Fine. I’ll tell you.” 

Anthony looked up, fear in his eyes. Penelope’s heart pounded in her chest. 

“They called it borderline personality disorder. I was diagnosed in rehab. I didn’t tell anyone because I knew—” he looked around the table, taking in everyone’s expression. “I knew you would look at me like that.” 

The table was silent. Violet’s hand flew to her mouth. Benedict stopped blinking entirely. Penelope’s heart crumbled in her chest.

Anthony looked up. For a moment he looked younger, uncertain. Before years of being forced as the head of the family had worn him down and made him sharp. 

He whispered, “Colin…”

“Do you think I wanted to be like this?” Colin’s voice was breaking as he tried so hard to hold himself together. “Do you think I woke up every day and said ‘How can I make my family’s life harder today?’ You act like I chose to be a disaster.” 

Penelope knew. She always knew that there was something there beneath the surface of Colin’s mind. 

Watching him now, she saw echoes of the boy who clung to her too tightly, the man who texted her twenty times in a night when fear got the better of him.

Dropping out of uni on a whim. The drugs, the alcohol.

It all made sense. Colin wasn’t just “sensitive” or “impulsive.” He was struggling in a way that none of them could see.

Anthony stood now too, instinctively. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because you already thought the worst of me. I didn’t want to give you a diagnosis to prove it.” 

“Colin.” It was Violet who spoke now. The brothers looked towards their mother whose face was streaming with tears. 

Colin’s face crumbled at the sight. “Mum, I—”

“Oh!” 

All eyes shot to Daphne. Her face was contorted in pain, her hand clenching her stomach. 

“Well,” she said, breathing hard, “someone had to break the tension.”

Simon stood quickly going to her side, panic in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, brothers,” she said out of clenched teeth. “But my baby decided she will be the one to ruin dinner.”

Chapter Text

“Hyacinth, go and watch the children,” Violet Bridgerton took command like a sentinel.

“Where is the overnight bag?” A panicked Simon asked. 

“At our house!”

“What? Why is it there?” 

“I wasn’t expecting to go into labor tonight, Simon!” 

“I explicitly told you not to have a baby at dinner.” 

“Shut up, Eloise. Can you grab the overnight bag from my house and meet us at the hospital?” 

“What? Why me?” 

“Because Gregory will grab the wrong bag!” 

“Probably,” Gregory muttered in between bites of his own food. The Bridgertons were in chaos, but Penelope noticed that Anthony and Colin remained standing, gazes locked. 

“Mum,” Daphne said as she leaned onto Simon. “The children—”

“Will stay here with me, you need not even ask, darling.” 

Daphne relaxed a little. 

Kate placed a hand on Anthony’s arm and he jumped slightly. “We should get the children and get out of your mother’s hair,” she said softly. “I think the discussion is best continued when you are both calmer.” 

Kate looked to Colin. Colin released a breath as he turned away from the table and left the dining room. 

Penelope sat alone for a moment in a small pocket of quiet amidst the chaos. Then she stood up and followed Colin. 

The thought of Colin alone was terrifying to her. Gregory and Hyacinth were home from university for the weekend, now Auggie and Belinda would be in the home as well. He was so often lost in the shuffle of his large family.

She found him in the living room. He sat on the plush chair, his head leaned against the back, his eyes closed tight. He looked exhausted, worn out. Penelope worried that staying in this home with all this chaos would cause him to lose himself again, especially after his emotions were flayed in front of his entire family. 

She crouched by the side of his chair and took his hand, he startled as though he didn’t realize she was in the room. He smiled softly when he saw her. 

“You alright, Pen?”

“I should be asking you that,” she said. “Are you?”

Colin released a long breath. “I don’t know.” She watched a tear slide down his cheek. 

“Come home with us.” She said before she could overthink the offer. Colin’s head shot up and he stared at her. Fear and hope in his eyes. 

“It will probably be too loud for you here.” Penelope said. “I can make up the couch. Jane will love it.”  

Colin inhaled slowly, watching her. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable in your own home.” 

“If I were uncomfortable with you there, I wouldn’t have offered.” 

Jane rushed into the room. “Mummy! Colin! Belinda said Aunt Daphne is having a baby!” 

She smiled. “Can we see the baby?” 

“When she’s home from the hospital, we will go see them.” Penelope assured her daughter. 

“Hey, Jane,” Penelope said, making her daughter focus all her attention on her. “Colin is going to stay at our flat tonight, alright?”

Jane paused for a moment, before staring at Colin. Penelope was tense, suddenly terrified for her daughter’s reaction that could break him even further.

But Jane’s face broke out in a wide smile. “He can stay in my room! We can watch the stars on my ceiling!” 

Penelope released a breath, “Darling, your room is an utter disaster. Where would Colin sleep?” 

Jane frowned. “We only have two beds. Will he share your bed? It’s very big.” 

Penelope sputtered, Colin smirked.

“I—Uh…He will sleep on the couch.” 

“The couch is for sitting. Not sleeping.” Jane said.

“Yeah, Pen,” Colin said, his humor returning. “The couch is for sitting and apparently you have a very large bed.” 

Penelope glared at him. 

Colin chuckled. “Do you think I might be able to sleep on the couch just for tonight, Jane? It’s a lot softer than the floor.”

Jane thought for a moment, then nodded. “Ok. You can watch cartoons with me in the morning. Mummy likes to sleep a lot on Sundays.” 

Penelope’s face heated. “I’m allowed one day of sleeping in without your comments on it, young miss.” 

“Well, I wake up early and I would be delighted to watch telly with you, Jane.”  

Colin rose from the chair with a sigh that seemed to loosen something in his chest. Penelope squeezed Jane’s hand, reached for her coat, and the three of them stepped out of the noise and into the cooling night.

Penelope was trying to brush through Jane’s tangles after her bath but the girl wouldn’t sit still. 

“I want to show Colin where the meteorite is! Can I show him all my birthday presents? He hasn’t seen my favorite Squishmallow!”

“Yes, Jane,” Penelope said, annoyed. “Yes to everything, just let me get these knots out.” 

The girl finally sat still for long enough for Penelope to brush and braid her hair for the night. Once she was given leave, Jane ran into the living room where Colin was sitting scrolling his phone. 

“Any news about Daphne?” Penelope asked. 

“None yet,” Colin said “Mum promised to update everyone.” 

Jane rushed to the corner and picked up a box. “Uncle Ben got me this for my birthday! I keep asking Mummy when we can build it but she keeps saying ‘later.’”

Jane showed Colin the box that contained the complicated looking model rocket. 

Penelope leaned down and spoke lowly, “I’m trying to figure out what offense I committed against Benedict for him to give that to her.” 

Colin snorted. “Maybe I can help you with it?” 

Jane bounced happily. 

“Be my guest,” Penelope said, leaning against the back of the couch. “Jane, it’s late so say goodnight to Colin.” 

Jane pouted slightly. 

“He’ll be here in the morning, remember?” 

Jane perked up slightly at that. “Can he come see my stars before I go to bed?” 

Penelope nodded. Jane pulled Colin up by his hands and tugged him to her room. 

Penelope gave them a moment alone, but couldn’t resist taking a peak at Colin and Jane together. 

The lights were off, the projector was on and hundreds of blue and purple stars swirled on her ceiling. Jane stood beneath them looking up and Colin joined her. 

“Isn’t it cool?”

“Yeah, Jane. It’s very cool,” Colin said softly, looking down at her. 

“Alright, love,” Penelope said, slipping in. “Hop in bed.” 

Jane yawned and complied with her mother. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, Penelope gingerly stepped over toys to kiss Jane on her forehead. 

“Goodnight,” Penelope said. 

“ G‘Night, Mum. ‘Night, Colin.” 

“Goodnight, Jane.” Colin said softly. 

When they stepped outside her room, Colin released a heavy breath. One that spoke of the long night that they had only just got through. 

“You hungry?” Penelope asked. 

“Starving,” Colin laughed. 

“We didn’t finish dinner,” Penelope said. “I don’t think I ate a bite.” 

“Sorry,” Colin said in his self-deprecating manner. “I told you about my habit for running dinners.” 

“I think Baby Bassett gets credit for this one,” Penelope said. “Come on, I’ll make you a cheese toastie.”

“Should I make you one?” Colin asked as he followed her into the kitchen. “Since you’re sharing your hospitality?” 

“You can make breakfast,” Penelope offered.  

“Deal,” Colin said. 

Colin stood against the counter while Penelope cooked. She could feel him watching her quietly, the kind of watchful that wasn’t checking up on her—just needing to be near something steady.

She turned slightly as he stepped closer. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, no judgement in her voice. “About the BPD? I would have understood. You know what my family’s like.”

Colin let out a breath that sagged his shoulders. “It’s terrifying,” he said. “I’ve always believed I was choosing my bad decisions. You know? That I was at the wheel, even when I crashed. But suddenly, someone’s telling me it’s bigger than me. When I went to rehab this time, I was sure I’d do better. Then the doctor hands me this questionnaire that took four hours. Four hours, Pen.”

He huffed a humorless laugh. “One of the questions was, ‘I don’t think I should be held responsible for my actions.’ Who is that question even for? If I really believed that, I’m sure not writing it down.”

Penelope snorted softly. “The type of person who’d circle ‘strongly agree’ without hesitation is exactly who that question is for.”

A small, reluctant smile tugged at him. Then his expression softened, vulnerable. “When the doctor gave me the diagnosis… it suddenly felt like it wasn’t in my hands anymore. Like no matter how hard I tried, I’d never be able to change who I am.”

“But that’s not true,” Penelope said softly. “You know that, right?”

Colin nodded, though the motion was small. “Yeah. I see my doctor every week. She makes me keep this journal—writing down moments where I… I choose differently. Even tiny ones.” His eyes dropped to the counter. “It helps more than I want to admit.”

“I’m proud of you,” Penelope said, the words spilling out before she could second-guess them. “I know I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating. I watched my father crash and burn over and over. What you’re doing?” She shook her head. “He could never do it.”

Colin let out a slow, shaky breath. “People keep comparing me to your father. You’re the first person who hasn’t done it like it’s a foregone conclusion.”

Penelope stepped a little closer. “You’re not him. Not even close.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You sound awfully certain, Miss Featherington.”

She held his gaze, equal parts soft and sure. “I’m choosing to be.”

Colin drifted closer, almost without seeming to decide to, his arm sliding around her back in a tentative curve. He drew her against his side, his cheek brushing her curls as he breathed in—slow, steady, like he needed the scent of her to anchor himself.

Penelope melted into him before she could think better of it. A single dangerous thought flickered through her: if she tilted her head the smallest degree, if she looked up at him—what then? Would he kiss her? Would he flinch away? The air between them felt delicate, stretched thin, humming with possibility.

When she felt the faintest press of his lips against her hair, her heart tripped.

Then Colin’s voice broke the spell, low and unsteady, trying for levity.
“Careful not to burn my toastie, Pen.”

Colin had been sleeping peacefully on Penelope’s couch, lost in dreams of red hair and soft skin when something jumped on his legs, shocking him awake. 

He woke up abruptly to see Jane perched on his calves, settling in with the remote. 

“This is where I sit,” she said when she noticed him staring. 

“Of course,” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and sitting upright. Apparently she had a spot on the couch and would sit there whether or not Colin’s legs were also there.

Colin yawned and stretched. “Your mum still asleep?” 

Jane nodded. “Let’s watch Bluey.” 

“I’ve never seen Bluey.” 

“It’s really funny.” 

With a few clicks of the remote, Jane had an episode playing for them. 

After a few episodes, Colin was convinced that the creator of this show was a madman. 

“Do the parents have jobs?” he asked. 

“Sometimes they go to work,” Jane said. 

“Sometimes? How do they afford that house?” Colin muttered mostly to himself. 

“Maybe they’re rich,” Jane shrugged. 

Colin hummed. “That Muffin is a terror.” 

“She’s funny!” Jane laughed. 

Once they finished the Rug Island episode, Colin decided he had enough. 

“How about some breakfast?” 

“Ok!” Jane said, bouncing slightly. 

“What do you like to eat?” 

“Everything!” 

“That’s helpful,” Colin said, making his way to the kitchen. Jane followed, her little footsteps pattering behind him. 

“I’m a pretty good cook,” Colin said as he rummaged through cabinets. “Let’s see what your mum has tucked away.”

He surveyed Penelope’s shelves with a thoughtful hum. “Do you like pancakes?”

“Yes!” Jane bounced on her toes.

“Do you know where the pans are?”

She did—and she marched straight to the right cabinet and presented him with a pan like she was handing over treasure.

“Do you want to help me?”

Jane nodded hard.

They worked side by side, measuring flour, milk, and sugar. Jane hovered nervously over the eggs, chewing her lip. 

“I’m no good at cracking them,” she whispered.

“That’s fine,” Colin said gently. “I’ll be the egg man.”

She snorted, and once he cracked them cleanly into the bowl, she took the whisk and mixed with fierce concentration. He showed her how to watch the edges bubble, how the center tightened, how to wait for exactly the right moment to flip.

By their third pancake, Jane was flipping like she’d been born for it, and Colin pretended to step back in awe.

“That was the best flip I’ve ever seen,” he said. 

Jane laughed. 

After some time they had an obscenely large stack of pancakes. Colin set Jane a plate at the table, covered her pancakes in syrup and they both began to dig in. 

Jane ate excitedly, humming slightly as she went. Colin smiled, glad that she liked the food they made together. 

“Does your mum usually sleep this late?” he asked. 

Jane shook her head and swallowed a bite. “I usually wake her up when I get hungry.” 

Just then his phone rang in his pocket. He internally groaned at the sight of his mother’s name.

“It’s your grandma.”  Hopefully, Jane’s presence would get him out of the conversation he wasn’t quite ready to have. 

“Hey, Mum.” he tried to sound pleasant. 

“Colin!” her voice sounded strained, tired. “I was worried about you after last night. Are you alright? Are you still at Penelope’s?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Penelope’s asleep. Jane and I made pancakes.” 

“They’re really good!” Jane said loudly so Violet could hear. 

“Shh, We don’t want to wake your mum.” Colin said with a gentle smile. 

“Oh!” Jane’s eyes went wide and she covered her mouth. 

“Any news on Daphne?” Colin asked. 

“She’s still in labor,” Violet sighed. “Still waiting for updates. I’ll let you know when I hear anything.” 

There was a silence between them. Colin could hear Gregory playing with Auggie and Belinda in the background. 

“Colin, I…” his mother began. Her voice was nervous and unsure. “I would like to talk to you about what you told us last night. I know that you’re with Jane so this isn’t the best time, but soon.” 

“Yeah, Mum. We will.” 

“But I want to tell you this now: You have never been a disappointment to me. Not once. I have loved you through every version of yourself, and I’m proud of the man you’re fighting to become.”

Something cracked in Colin. Something that he didn’t even know was inside of him. His throat tightened. He hid his eyes behind his hand, thankful that Jane was still fully immersed in her pancakes. 

Colin exhaled heavily. “Thanks, Mum,” he said, his voice breaking on the words. On the other end of the line Violet sniffled. 

“Alright, well you two have fun together. Let Penelope sleep in, she probably doesn’t get to very often.” 

Colin laughed. “That was the plan.” 

They said their goodbyes and Colin tried to compose himself for Jane. 

“What should we do next?” Colin asked as he picked up their dishes. 

“Have fun!” Jane said with a bounce. 

He wanted to have fun, sure, but there was another part of him—smaller, secret—that wanted proof he could actually take care of a child.

“Have you brushed your teeth this morning?” 

Jane glanced to the side. “Oh, I forgot.” 

“Well, why don’t you do that and get dressed while I wash these dishes? Then maybe we can work on that rocket Ben got you.” 

Jane compiled readily. Colin began to clean up their pancake mess but quickly realized that if Penelope was still asleep she likely wouldn’t be much longer. It didn’t seem that Jane could get dressed or brush her teeth without making an ungodly amount of noise. 

Christ, was she rearranging furniture in there?

Jane eventually bounced out, shirt and leggings on and a small bit of toothpaste in the corner of her mouth. 

“I’m ready to build the rocket!” 

They settled at the table, opened the box as Colin looked through the instructions and tiny pieces that came with the set. 

They were deep in the building of it when Penelope finally emerged from her bedroom, her eyes were groggy, her hair was sticking up in every direction. Colin’s heart swelled. 

“‘Morning,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Colin laughed. 

“Mummy! You slept forever!” 

“I don’t think I’ve slept that much in six years.” 

“We made pancakes. There’s some left for you.” 

Penelope smiled. “Wow. Colin Bridgerton leaving leftovers?” 

“Jane ate more than me,” Colin said in his defense.

“They’re good, Mummy. I mixed the batter. Colin cracked the eggs. He showed me how to flip them.” 

“That’s wonderful, love,” Penelope leaned over and gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead before walking into the kitchen. “And you’re already dressed!” 

“I would have made coffee,” Colin called out to her. “But–”

“It smells gross!” Jane finished for him. 

“It’s fine,” Penelope called out. “I keep a jug of iced coffee in the fridge. Want some?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Penelope returned to the table, balancing cups of iced coffee and her plate of pancakes. Colin drank it readily. 

The three of them eased into a comfortable silence. Colin and Jane working on the rocket, Penelope eating her breakfast.

After a few minutes, Colin was beginning to get frustrated with the rocket’s instructions and tiny pieces. 

“Pen,” he said seriously. “Don’t be alarmed, but I think Benedict hates you.” 

Penelope snorted. 

“I’m so confused by these instructions.” Colin said, flipping through the pages. 

“You’re doing great!” Jane said, trying to encourage him.

“Let me see those,” Penelope said, reaching for the instructions. 

“Have at it,” Colin replied. 

“Here’s the problem,” she said after a moment of reading. “You’re trying to connect the B piece to the A piece when you need the C.”

“Why is it so complicated?” Colin muttered. “At this point it would be easier to just buy her a real rocket.” 

“Even you don’t have that much money,” Penelope scoffed.

The rest of the morning slipped by in a soft flurry of frustrated mutterings and plastic pieces connecting together until they finally had the rocket assembled. 

Jane was entranced by the moving parts. The hatch opened and closed, the thrusters moved. Colin took a picture of her smiling brightly with it completed and sent it to Benedict.  

Shortly after, Colin’s phone rang. 

“A video call from Simon,” He called out to Penelope. 

“It must be the baby!” Penelope said, rushing to join him and Jane on the couch. The three crowded into the screen as Colin swiped to answer. 

They were greeted with the faces of Simon and Daphne, both looking drawn and exhausted but happy. They were seated together on the hospital bed, a small bundle with dark curls nestled against Daphne’s chest.

Daphne’s brows rose slightly at the sight of the three of them, but then she smiled. Daphne opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Jane.

“Aunt Daphne, is that the baby?”

Daphne laughed. “Yes, Jane. This is your new cousin Caroline.” 

“How are you feeling Daphne?” Penelope asked. 

Daphne released a breath. “Tired, but glad it’s over. I’m ready to see my other babies too. Mum’s bringing them up to the hospital.” 

“Congratulations, Bassets.” Colin said warmly. 

“Thanks, mate,” Simon replied. 

Colin didn’t miss the way that Simon looked between Daphne and Caroline. The love showing on the man’s face was palpable even through the screen. 

Not for the first time since he discovered Jane, Colin felt the pang of grief for everything he missed. If he had gotten help sooner, he could have been there with Penelope when Jane was born. 

There’s always the next one. The thought came into his mind before he could stop it. He blinked. Suddenly the thought of having another baby with Penelope was all he could think about. He could never love Jane any less—he couldn’t imagine loving her more—but the thought of another child didn’t dim her. It only made his heart feel bigger, somehow. And this time, he wanted to be there from the very beginning.

He was getting too far ahead of himself. He and Penelope weren’t even together. They hadn’t even spoken of their relationship. Colin knew what he wanted, but he had no idea what Penelope wanted. She still looked at him the same as she did all those years ago and that gave him hope. 

Jane rested her head on his shoulder as she cooed over the baby on the screen. The weight of her trust, her acceptance grounded him. Colin’s heart beat faster and he knew that no matter how he came to be here, he wouldn’t change this moment for anything.

The rest of the day slipped by in a quiet, sunlit sort of way. They watched Jane’s favorite cartoons, they played with her toys. Colin managed to convince her to help him clean up some of the mess in her room. In the afternoon, Jane took a nap that was half on couch cushions and half on Colin. 

That evening Jane begged them both for pizza for dinner and neither had the heart to refuse her. 

They sat at the table, laughing and talking as though Colin belonged there with them. As if he never left all those years ago. He wiped the pizza sauce from Jane’s mouth and asked if she managed to actually eat any of it. 

“Today was the best day ever,” Jane said softly as they played a board game together. Colin watched Penelope’s smile grow as she looked at him warmly. 

“I think so, too,” Colin said. 

It was late when Penelope saw Jane yawning and said. “Alright, it’s time for bed. You’ve got school tomorrow and I have work.” 

Jane shook her head. “I don’t want to sleep yet,” 

“What if you fall asleep in the middle of class?” Colin asked with mock horror. Jane giggled. 

She let Penelope help her dress for bed and braid her curls. Colin turned on her star projector as Penelope tucked her in. 

“Goodnight, Janey.” Colin said softly as he took in her sleepy features. She smiled. 

“Goodnight, love.” Penelope said, shutting off the light as she and Colin walked to the door. 

“Goodnight, Mummy.” Jane said sleepily. “Goodnight, Dad.” 

Colin froze. Every muscle in his body was suddenly tense. The word hung there a second, weightless and impossibly heavy at the same time.

His hand instinctively reached for his chest, to rub the spot that pained him. He felt like suddenly something clicked into place. 

He felt Penelope’s hand on his arm, he looked at her face, but she was blurry. Colin realized there were tears in his own eyes. 

He didn’t speak. He couldn’t. 

They step quietly outside her room and shut the door with a soft click. Colin swallowed hard, blinking. Penelope held his hand tightly as though she thought he might float away without her. She squeezed it once, her thumb running over his knuckles. 

He closed his eyes, Penelope’s hand steady in his, and let himself feel the shape of the life he suddenly wanted.

Chapter Text

Colin had planned to go home that evening, but Penelope asked if he could stay just until the morning. They hadn’t prepared Jane for Colin’s departure and Penelope feared that she might be upset to wake up and find him gone. 

The next morning, Penelope and Jane awoke to the smell of scrambled eggs and toast made by a freshly showered Colin. Jane devoured her breakfast. 

“Usually, Mum just makes cereal.” 

“Because Mum has to go to work after fighting to get you ready every morning,” Penelope defended herself. Colin watched them smiling. 

“It’s like watching you and your mum,” he laughed to Penelope. “Only you’re still you and Jane is Portia.” 

Penelope glared at Colin.

“I love Nana!” Jane exclaimed. “Can we go see her?”

“Maybe one day after school,” Penelope conceded. 

“Can my dad take me to school?” Jane asked Penelope

Penelope saw the way Colin straightened. She nodded.

“He can, but it will be just me that picks you up.” 

Jane pouted slightly but was happy to have Colin and Penelope walking her to school. She held both their hands and skipped along. Penelope loved this feeling. Feeling like a family with Colin and Jane. It was all she ever wanted. 

It was exactly what she’d dreamed of; raising her daughter with the man she’d loved since she was a girl down the street.

When they arrived at the school, she didn’t miss the judgmental looks from the other mums. They stood perfectly poised in their designer leggings, oversized knit sweaters, and leather slip-on sneakers. While Penelope wore her sensible office casual outfit that she bought off the clearance rack.

But it was Colin that their eyes focused on. Penelope felt a little petty at how good he looked and that he was standing beside her and their daughter.

Jane’s teacher stood outside, welcoming the children in the building. 

“Miss Brooks! This is my dad!” Jane exclaimed, practically dragging Colin forward, beaming from ear to ear.

The young woman’s eyes widened and she faltered for only a moment before reaching her hand out to shake Colin’s.  

“I’m Miss Brooks, Jane’s teacher,” she said. “I love having Jane in my class. She’s a great kid.” 

“Colin Bridgerton,” he said proudly, shaking Miss Brooks’ hand. “And that’s all thanks to her mother,” he added, nodding at Penelope with a soft smile

“Bridgerton,” Miss Brooks said. “That explains how she’s related to Charlotte. She’s in a different class but sometimes the classes mix for activities.” 

“Bye Mummy! Bye Dad!” Jane said as she ran into the school. Colin exhaled as he and Penelope turned away from the school. 

“Try not to have a heart attack every time she says it,” Penelope joked. “You’ve got to make it to her graduation.” 

Colin chuckled. “Can I walk you to work?” 

Penelope nodded. “I’d like that.”

The streets were calm, the morning sun spilling across the pavement in gold streaks. Colin fell into step beside Penelope, their pace easy and unhurried. For a while, neither spoke, letting the sounds of the city and the occasional birdcall fill the space between them.

“You know,” Colin said softly, glancing at her profile, “I didn’t realize how much I’d missed mornings like this.”

Penelope smiled, brushing a stray curl from her face. “Mornings like this?”

“Quiet. Normal. With you,” he admitted. His voice was gentle, almost hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he had the right to say it.

“Did we have many normal mornings?” she asked. 

“A few,” Colin said, smiling at the memory.

Something in his smile warmed her chest. “Thank you,” she murmured, and for a moment, he simply looked at her.

“For what?” he asked, cocking a brow. 

Penelope shrugged. “For being here for her. For us.” 

Colin stopped, and so did Penelope. He took her hands in his own and looked into her eyes. His expression was suddenly so serious, she couldn’t look away. 

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Ever.” He inhaled deeply. “In rehab, I had this list in my head. Reasons to get through each day. To stay clean. I repeated it over and over in detox just to keep myself sane.”

Penelope’s fingers tightened around his. 

“The first reason,” he continued. “Was that I hated myself and I didn’t want to hate myself anymore. But the next one was you. If I didn’t hate myself, then maybe I might believe that I was worthy of someone as amazing as you. It was the thought of you that kept me going in some of the darkest moments.”

“And then, once I was out…and I met Jane… I hoped I could prove myself—enough to you, enough to her—to be part of your lives. I didn’t even know she was mine yet. But she was yours, so she mattered to me because you do.”

Colin squeezed her hands. Penelope’s heart pounded. Tears stung her eyes. 

Colin swallowed hard. “I’d like to be a family. A real one. I know it won’t be easy and I’m still a mess, but I’d like–”

He never finished. Penelope’s hands curled into his shirt as she pulled him down to her. Her lips found his, soft but certain. He stiffened only for a heartbeat before he melted into her, his arms wrapping around her, drawing her close. His tears mingled with hers.

His hand cupped her cheek, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. He kissed her gently, unhurried, as though time finally belonged to them.

They didn’t get as long as either wanted.

“Oi! Get a room!” a passerby shouted at them.

They broke apart quickly, Colin’s eyes searched hers as they both breathed heavily. 

Penelope laughed. “I sort of forgot we were on the street.” 

“In the middle of morning rush hour, no less,” Colin said with a crooked smirk.

“You’re distracting,” Penelope said, turning back on the street and resuming her walk. “I have to get to work.” 

“I’m distracting?” he asked incredulously as he rushed to keep up with her. “You kissed me, Miss Featherington!” 

They fell in step again, in a comfortable silence. Their hands found one another naturally, without thought. 

When she approached her office building, they said their goodbyes. Colin pulled her in and laid a kiss in her curls. 

Once in the lobby, Penelope turned to see him still standing, staring at her. A hopeful smile on his face. 

Penelope realized that she wasn’t afraid of the future anymore. 

Several days had slipped by, quiet and golden, the kind of days Colin didn’t realize he’d been starving for until they were suddenly his. Days folded into each other in small, domestic ways—Jane’s school mornings, Penelope’s laughter floating in from the kitchen, the three of them lingering over late dinners that turned into inside jokes.

Colin still stayed at his mother’s house. He didn’t want to rush Penelope into anything. He wanted to prove himself as a steady presence before asking her to take any further steps. 

Colin spoke with his mother, and the guilt hit him almost before he finished the sentence. He should’ve told her sooner—should’ve trusted her with this piece of himself instead of letting her worry in the dark.

Violet’s voice wavered as she explained what the doctors had said when he was young: willful, defiant, too much. They’d called it ADHD, given him medication that only magnified his anxiety and big feelings until she couldn’t bear to keep him on it.

“I always thought I’d done something wrong,” she admitted through tears. “After your father died… maybe I mourned too much. Maybe you didn’t get enough of me.”

The thought struck him harder than he expected. Losing his father so young, slipping through the cracks of eight children—maybe it had shaped him more than anyone understood. But standing there now, with the truth out and Violet’s hand wrapped tight around his, he wasn’t sure it mattered anymore. It felt like something had finally settled.

His siblings reacted differently to the news. Benedict was quiet and contemplative, Eloise raged at the injustice. Francesca listened, made soft noises of comfort, and offered exactly the right amount of encouragement.

It was Anthony’s calls that he avoided. 

Fear, pride, and something small and sore inside him all tangled together whenever Anthony’s name lit up his phone. Anthony had a way of making him feel like the family disappointment, even when he didn’t mean to.

Colin’s late night outburst had left him raw, feeling stripped and flayed open for his family to poke at. 

If Anthony didn’t criticise him, he might do something worse. He might be kind. 

Colin didn’t know how to handle Anthony’s kindness.Fighting with Anthony made sense. Arguing made sense. The idea of affection between them felt impossible, or maybe just unfamiliar.

Still, when his phone rang and Kate’s name appeared, he knew the reprieve was over.

“Hello, Kate,” he said as charmingly as he could. 

“Don’t you ‘Hello Kate’ me,” she shot back. “Why are you avoiding your brother’s calls? He wants to talk to you.” 

Colin sighed. “I know he does. I’m just…afraid of what he might say.” 

Kate’s voice softened. “He’s not going to say anything harsh. He wants to apologize, to understand.” 

“That’s a dirty move,” Colin muttered. “Sending you. He knows you’re my favorite in-law.”

Kate was quiet for a moment. “He doesn’t know I’m calling.” 

“What?” 

Another sigh from her. “He’s torn up, Colin. Truly. I can’t stand watching him fret anymore. You need to talk to him. Let him explain. Let him listen. The truth is… these last few years terrified him. Watching someone you love unravel—” She stopped, breath catching. “It’s awful.”

Colin dragged a hand through his hair, guilt threading through him.

“I’m not trying to make you feel worse,” Kate added softly. “I just want you to understand where he’s been.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I’ll call him. Maybe tonight. I just have to psyche myself up for it.” 

“Thank you, Colin,” Kate said, relieved. “And just know that we’re both proud of you and how far you’ve come.” 

After Kate’s call, Colin paced around the house for a while. His mother pointedly suggested he might go for a walk outside instead of wearing down her carpet.

He was about to take her up on her suggestion when his phone rang again, but this time it was Penelope’s name that flashed across. Colin’s heart beat a little faster. 

“Pen, Hey!” 

“Colin!” Her voice was breathless, like she was walking fast. A spark of dread lit in his chest. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Haverleigh called. They said there was some sort of incident involving Jane. They said she’s fine, but I need to come up there.”

“They didn’t say what happened?” His voice snapped sharper than he meant it to.

“No! I asked and all they would say was that Jane was fine and that the parents of everyone involved needed to be there before they disclosed details.” 

Colin could hear an elevator dinging through the phone. 

“I was wondering…” Penelope said, still breathless. “Would you meet me there?” 

“Of course,” Colin had already been on his way to borrow his mother’s car. 

Penelope released a breath. “Thank you. It’s nice to have someone else to help with all this.”

“I’m all in with you on this, Pen. On everything.” 

The drive to the school was quick but felt endless. His thoughts spun in tight, panicked circles—was Jane hurt? Bullied? Did she have a meltdown?

He pulled into the car park and spotted Penelope pacing at the entrance, wringing her hands. Her shoulders dipped the moment she saw him, like someone had finally taken a weight from her.

He rushed to her, took her hand, and she led him into the reception. She stopped at the front desk. 

“I’m Penelope Featherington, Jane Featherington’s mother. I was called by the headteacher. This is Jane’s father, Colin Bridgerton.” 

The secretary spoke quietly on the phone for a moment before motioning them to a hallway that led to the headteacher’s office. 

But waiting in that corridor, outside the same office, were Kate and Anthony.

“Oh no,” Penelope muttered. 

Anthony looked at Colin for a long moment before asking. 

“Have they told you what is going on?” 

Penelope shook her head. “They just said there was an incident.” 

Kate nodded. “That’s all they told us as well.” 

“Do you think the girls fought?” Penelope asked worriedly. 

“I hope not,” Kate said. “But Charlotte gets her temper from this one.” She jerked her head toward Anthony, who clenched his jaw. 

“They wouldn’t tell us anything over the phone,” he said. “Ridiculous.” 

The door opened and standing there was a man who had the look of someone who had been born in a blazer. His posture was ramrod-straight, chin lifted just half an inch too high. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Bridgerton, Miss Featherington. Please come in.” he began, but paused when his eyes landed on Colin. “Who is this gentleman?” 

“He’s Jane’s father,” Penelope said, steady and unflinching. Colin silently blessed her for it.

“I was under the impression that her father was not in the picture.” 

Colin offered a hand. “Colin Bridgerton. And I’m very much in the picture now.”

The headteacher’s eyes flicked from Colin to Anthony, calculating. He didn’t take the offered hand.

“And where were you previously?” His tone carried the smooth confidence of a man unaccustomed to being refused.

“That’s none of your concern,” Anthony spoke brusquely. “We’re here because of an incident involving our children. Can we please discuss that now?” 

The headteacher said nothing, but turned and led them into his office. Charlotte and Jane sat in chairs along the wall. Jane didn’t seem upset to Colin. If anything she seemed a bit…bewildered. Charlotte sat with her arms crossed, her expression one of fury. Miss Brooks sat with them, speaking in low calming tones to the girls. 

Jane’s head snapped up when she saw them. “Mummy! Dad!” 

Colin’s heart pounded every time he heard that, he wasn’t sure if he would ever get over it. 

“Papa!” Charlotte said, “Mama, you have to tell them! It’s not fair that I’m in trouble.”  

“So what happened?” Penelope asked the headteacher as he took his seat behind his desk. 

“I’m afraid Charlotte became physical with another student.” 

Kate gasped. “Charlotte Priya Bridgerton! Did you hurt Jane?” 

“No!” Charlotte shouted. 

“It wasn’t me,” Jane said at the same time. 

Miss Brooks stood up then. “Another student was taunting Jane. Charlotte pushed the girl and she fell and got hurt.” 

“How badly was she hurt?” Anthony asked. 

“Not bad,” Miss Brooks said. “She has a bump on her head, She’ll be fine. But we need to stress that physical altercations are not the appropriate response to these issues.” 

Penelope walked over to the girls and knelt in front of them. 

“Can you tell me what happened?” 

Jane shrugged, looking away. He knew that look—it was the same way he had downplayed things as a child.

“Amanda got mad at me.” Jane said softly. “She said I talk about stupid stuff. Then she started talking really loud and it hurt my ears.”

“She said Jane was stupid,” Charlotte interjected. “I told her to shut up, but she wouldn’t.” 

Colin saw tears forming in the corner of Jane’s eyes now. She wouldn’t meet Penelope’s gaze. A cold anger formed inside of him. 

He met the headteacher’s gaze. 

He fixed the headteacher with a steady gaze.
“I’m hearing a lot of admonishment for Charlotte’s response, but what exactly is being done to ensure this school doesn’t foster bullying?”

Anthony stepped forward. “And where were the teachers when this was happening? How was it allowed to escalate?”

“We strive to maintain a calm environment for all our students.” The headteacher said. “Occasionally, some children require more attention than others.” The man’s eyes landed on Jane for a brief moment. Colin grit his teeth. “It’s unfortunate when those…differences disrupt the classroom, but we do our best.”

“You’re saying that Jane is a disruption?” Penelope asked pointedly. She then turned to Miss Brooks. 

“She is excitable,” the woman said. “But most of the time I’m able to redirect–”

“Some children need extra support–” the headteacher cut her off. 

“I was under the impression that Haverleigh provided the extra support,” Colin interrupted. 

“We do,” the headteacher said. “But we also have many other children who deserve their education. Of course, parental guidance is crucial. We’ve noticed that some children thrive more when their routines are closely followed at home.”

Penelope’s head shot towards the man. Colin’s fists clenched against his side. Even Kate and Anthony noticed the subtle dig at Penelope’s parenting. 

“Jane was taunted.” Colin reiterated. “Charlotte defended her. Perhaps instead of lecturing the parents, you could consider why this environment allows bullying to go unchecked.”

The headmaster bristled. 

“My brother’s right,” Anthony said. Colin blinked. He wasn’t used to hearing Anthony speak like that on his behalf. A strange warmth flickered through him—an alliance he hadn’t realized he needed. For once, they were united.

“And please ensure that any remarks regarding Miss Featherington’s parenting are kept out of this discussion. They have no place here.”

Colin glanced at his brother. Anthony didn’t look his way, but his jaw was set in that familiar don’t-you-dare-challenge-my-family line. Colin had forgotten what it felt like to be included in that circle.

The headteacher opened his mouth again, but Colin and Anthony exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Anthony’s jaw softened just enough to signal he was done arguing for now. Colin nodded. Together, they turned toward the door.

“Let’s go,” Colin said quietly.

Anthony followed, their pace unhurried but purposeful. As they walked down the hallway, the tension eased just a fraction. Colin realized it had been years since he’d felt this—safe, understood, and even a little proud to have his brother beside him instead of against him.

“Pompous ass,” Anthony muttered. Colin snorted. 

“Thanks,” Colin said when they were out of the office. “For having my back.”

Anthony nodded.

”I thought you sang Haverleigh’s praises?” Colin added.

Anthony shook his head. “Between all our children, Bridgerton money keeps this place running. That man’s new. Probably won’t last the term.”

Colin laughed slightly at Anthony’s implication.

Behind them Kate and Penelope gathered the girls and led them out. 

“I know you were defending your cousin,” Kate said to her daughter. “But you can’t push people.” 

Charlotte crossed her arms and pouted.

“Are you alright, Jane?” Penelope asked, kneeling beside her daughter, who still seemed a bit lost.

“But I thought…” Jane began, then trailed off. She looked over at Charlotte and her parents as they spoke together. “Charlotte doesn’t like me.”

Penelope crouched beside her. “Oh, darling, that’s not true. Why would you think that?”

Jane shrugged, frowning.

Colin leaned down to meet her gaze, his voice gentle. “Sometimes family can get annoyed or not understand us. That happens to everyone. But it doesn’t mean they don’t love us.” He cast a quick glance toward Anthony, who was watching quietly, his expression unreadable but softened.

Jane blinked up at Colin, then gave the tiniest nod, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Really?” she whispered.

“Really,” Colin said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. 

Family didn’t have to be perfect. Just present. And right now, they all were.