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one - running from his pain
year: 2005; c: 12; p: 7
Colin Bridgerton was used to running.
In the beginning, it wasn’t something he was ever aware of, although, looking back now, he could pinpoint the exact year in which his younger self did it for the first time.
Christmas that year was different from every other before, for more reasons than one. For starters, it was the first holiday the Bridgerton siblings would be spending at Bridgerton House instead of Aubrey Hall, the ancient residence of the family. The whole thing was set to be a small affair put together with the help of Agatha Danbury, Colin’s godmother, and his eldest brother, Anthony. No guests, no loud music, and quite frankly, not much to celebrate.
The biggest difference, however, was one the entire clan had not yet learned how to accept. Earlier that spring, Edmund Bridgerton, Colin’s father, had tragically passed away at the age of 38, leaving behind a wife and eight children – including young Hyacinth, born only three weeks after.
In the months since his passing, the entire house has not been the same. Colin’s mother, Violet, spent most of her days in pained silence, walking around like a ghost of the once happy matriarch she was only weeks before. Anthony took charge of the household, while Benedict, his second eldest brother, took on the role of looking out for their younger siblings’s practical needs. Daphne, being the oldest sister, developed a kind of motherly complex, tending to the younger siblings – especially Eloise, whose screams after each nightmare wouldn’t be forgotten by everyone in the house even years later.
Colin, for his part, retreated into himself, holding onto the good memories he’d made of his father in an attempt to keep his own feelings at bay. Birthday parties, learning how to ride a bike, visits to the zoo, secret ice cream outings (“You really can't stop eating, can you, Col?”), monthly camping weekends; all of that repeatedly used to forget Edmund was no longer with them. And when all became too much, and his feelings became too intense to bottle it up, he ran instead of dealing with them. From his pain, from his family, from his house. Just ran.
The thing is, while Anthony was known for having big feelings either outburst or suppressed (to the point of even more chaotic outbursts), and Benedict dealt with his emotions in the most artistic ways, Colin hardly ever acknowledged (and therefore, expressed) his own. Because of that, he earned the title of “most charming and relaxed” Bridgerton, whose spirits lifted everyone’s around. “Much like your father”, people would say. And so, day after day, he’d done his best to hold it together, while also trying hard to help in the only way he knew – by making everyone laugh and feel at ease.
And that’s how, throughout the whole Christmas dinner, with the help of Benedict and Agatha, he managed to keep the conversation going, running between different topics, and distracting everyone with jokes and light banter. Well, almost everyone.
“Is mother really not coming to eat with us?”, asked Eloise at one point of the meal.
“Mother is feeling unwell, El. She’ll be coming down to watch Secret Santa later, but only if you can keep yours secret till it’s time to exchange gifts”, said Colin with a sparkle in his eyes.
“Last year she told everyone hers was Aunt Georgie before the holidays had even started”, whispered Daphne between fake coughs.
“Hey, no fair”, Eloise whined while everyone at the table started to laugh. “And anyway, we’re finished here, so someone has to come collect her now!”, she yelled, already standing up.
“I’m sure Violet would be really happy to see your enthusiasm, darling, but maybe she’s not in the mood for that much … yelling”, came Agatha’s voice. “Would you mind, Colin?”
“Can’t Benedict go?” he asked, looking between his brothers and his godmother with a smile in an attempt to look laid back.
“No, he cannot” replied Anthony in his new “I’m in charge” tone. There was a softness to it, though, that didn’t go unnoticed by Colin. He was worried about him.
“Okay”, resigned Colin, excusing himself and taking the stairs to the second floor of the house. Reluctantly, he made the way to the master bedroom, knocking lightly before turning the knob and waking in.
Inside the room, he didn’t immediately see his mom, due to the lack of light. Once his eyes adjusted, he noticed that the balcony’s door was slightly open, bringing some clarity to the place. Carefully, as to not startle her, he called her name and crossed the still dark bedroom, reaching for the half-opened door just in time to see Violet turning in his direction, and the look of pure joy the moment she took him in.
“Edmund!”, she cried.
“It’s me, mom. Colin”, he quickly clarified, stepping into the light of the moon, throat suddenly tight and tears threatening to spill at any moment.
“Oh, Colin”, his mother deflated, trying to regain her composure and giving his third son a smile that in no way reached her eyes. “I’m sorry, I thought for one moment… you really are so similar to him, you know that?”
“Yeah… though I’m not really sure that’s a good thing to remember these days”, he whispered, a little unsure.
“Don’t say that, Col”, Violet scolded him, taking his hands in hers. “Your father was this amazing man, full of life and love. Always ready to make me laugh in the most inappropriate times”.
“Well, that I can help with”, he answered, earning a pat on the back and a chuckle from his mom. “We’re ready for Secret Santa, although…” he continued, “would you mind doing mine this year?” he said, playing anxiously with his fingers. “I think I’m heading to the gardens for a bit”.
Violet looked at him for a moment before nodding, arching her eyebrows in a silent question.
“Mister Cranky, also known as your eldest son”, he answered, already on his way to the door. “Oh, and please advise said son not to open the gift in the presence of such a sensible audience, would you?”, he whispered, running away in time to hear his mother’s rushed “Colin Bridgerton!”
…
Five minutes later, Colin made himself comfortable in the swing near the front of the house, trying to erase one more time the look of disappointment in his mother’s eyes as she was once again reminded that her husband is gone. It’s become a constant occurrence in the last few months, one Colin had learned to expect, but not yet to deal with. He was the spitting image of someone everyone dearly loved, and from time to time having all those eyes focused on him was a little too much.
He was never going to admit it, but it stung. Not being able to live as many years as his brothers in the presence of their father. Not fully understanding their said similarities, learning how to deal with them, for better or for worse. And more importantly, not knowing how to live up to someone like that, to earn the gift of being so similar to him.
So, whenever the stares became too much, or the comparisons got too close to his insecurities, he started to flee the scene, just long enough to breathe. Just for long enough to forget the pain.
Across the street, he heard the distinct sounds of Archibald and Portia Featherington fighting, which, at this point, was an almost nightly event. A few moments later, Penelope Featherington emerged from his house’s gate, stopping short after spotting him at the swings.
The Featheringtons had moved to the neighborhood a couple of months ago, right after Edmund’s passing. Weeks later, Colin was forcibly introduced, one would say, to their third daughter, Penelope, as her hat hit him square on the head and made him fall off his bike on the way home from school with his siblings. When he stood up from the ground, he noticed two things: (i) a red-haired girl coming towards him with teary eyes and a red face, already apologizing; (ii) his sisters laughing so hard they were bent down with their hands on their stomach, mocking him to no end. It had been some time since he last heard them laugh like that, he remembered thinking. “I like this girl already”, was his second thought. The feeling remained even months after.
“It’s a little late for you to be crossing the street, don’t you think, Miss Penelope?” he asked, watching in amusement as her cheeks became almost the color of her auburn hair. He kind of liked making her blush.
“I… I just… wanted to hide for a moment, I didn’t think someone would be here. Sorry” she said, already turning to go back home.
“Hey”, he stood up as she stopped walking and faced him, biting her bottom lip in an anxious manner. “There’s no need to go. Come on, have a seat next to me”.
She sighed in relief, taking her seat and looking directly at him while putting her hands on each ear to muffle all the yelling. Colin felt sorry for the girl, whose age was similar to his sister Eloise. So young, and yet with so much pain in her eyes.
Silently, he took her hands and brought them to her lap. They stayed quiet for a while, looking at each other.
“Where are your sisters?”, he asked eventually.
“Went to a friend’s house. Said I was too young to join”, she sighed, eyes sad. From what he’d heard from Eloise, it was a usual occurrence for her sisters to simply exclude Penelope when they felt like it.
“Well, their loss”, he said. “I could really use the company, though. We’re having Secret Santa and I’m pretty sure my brother Anthony will come looking for me in the next five minutes. Probably to kill me. Thoughts on hiding spots?”, he questioned teasingly, holding out his hand for her to take just as a scream came through the living room.
“Colin Christopher Bridgerton!”, yelled Anthony.
“Well, so much for hiding. Be my shield?”, he asked with puppy eyes, hand still waiting. She laughed hard while waving her head in a negative manner, but took it anyway, standing in front of him. “What can I do for you, dear brother?” he joked, taking both of them inside his house, where, for the first time in a while, everyone seemed to be able to laugh. That night, when in bed, he thanked whoever for the family he was given, and for the chance to spend the holidays with them.
There were worse Christmases out there, after all.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
two - running from his family’s expectations
year: 2015; c: 22; p: 17
At twenty-two years old, Colin Bridgerton’s life was damn near perfect.
Being from one of the wealthiest families in Mayfair, money was never a problem, and neither was connections; following his brothers’ lead, he quickly became one of London’s most desirable bachelors, although, unlike them, he did manage to maintain his somewhat quieter love life away from the tabloids. Finally, as far as his career was concerned, he kept it practical, choosing – with a not-so-friendly incentive from his elder brother – to apply to business school, aiming to help with the family “shenanigans”, as he so often liked to put it.
And yet he hated it.
He was acutely aware of his privileges, of course. The Bridgerton name had always opened more doors than he or either one of his siblings could actually enter, and with Anthony’s guidance, had become more known and respected. They could be anything they wanted to be.
But being a Bridgerton also came with certain expectations of being the best in what you actually choose to be, of having your shit figured out, which, annoyingly, both his older brothers had done quite early in their lives. Colin, on the other end, was a bit… adrift, and frankly, quite tired of being reminded of that ad nauseam by his family, even if they meant well.
Which is why he was currently standing in front Anthony, whose vein was about to pop up at any given minute if he didn’t stop yelling at him and take a fucking Xanax to calm down.
“You did what?!”, he screamed, his face so comically red Colin was having a hard time not to imagine little flames coming out of his head just like that movie Hyacinth had made everyone watch on repeat these past days. What was its name? Oh, Inside Out.
“As I’ve already told you multiple times before, uni is not for me, Ant. I’ve tried, and I’ve given it another shot, and another, and another, but it was not getting any better. So, as of last week, I officially dropped out”, he answered, calm and steady, knowing full well nothing good would come if he lost his temper.
“Do you have any idea how important it would be to have someone to help me with the family’s business, Colin? It’s yours to inherit too, in case you forgot. What the hell are you going to do now?”, he kept yelling at him, moving his hands in the air to make his point.
“Like you’d ever let any of us forget, brother”, Colin scoffed. “And at what cost, Anthony? Would you truly prefer to have a brother who graduated and is unhappy, is that what you’re saying?”
“I would prefer you learn to commit, brother. You’re floating, aiming at nothing, and this is NOT the Bridgerton way. I’m happy as a lawyer, and even Benedict has thrived with his art gallery. Daphne has just decided to become a doctor, and Eloise – who is not yet eighteen, may I remind you – has already stated that she intends to be a journalist. Meanwhile, you parade around London without a purpose, letting your future slip through your fingers! When are you gonna stand up and honor our family’s name?”
“And what if I want to be more than just the Bridgerton name, brother? You talk about achievements and milestones as if life is a mere game and not supposed to be lived in its fullest. If what you want for your life is to be forever in an office dealing with problems, I am truly happy for you. But you don’t get to dictate how I live my life, or suggest it’s not a ‘worthy way of living’ because it’s not how you pictured it!” he finally yelled back, losing his patience and storming through the door before stopping in his tracks and coming back for one last comment.
“And a happy Christmas for you, Mister Cranky”.
After leaving Anthony’s study, Colin went straight to the kitchen, avoiding any family members and guests parading around the house in between preparations for the Christmas dinner. Three years after Edmund’s death, the family restored the tradition of spending the holidays at Aubrey Hall, as well as having people over to celebrate with them.
In his state of distress, he ended up bumping into someone in the middle of the hall, already cursing himself for the imminent need to make polite conversation.
“I’m so sorry, I was distracted and didn’t see you coming…”.
“Oh my god, how can I be so clumsy …”.
“Pen!” he sighed, relief washing over his features, “Thank god it’s you!”
“Oh, Colin”, she said, bending down to pick up a book that had fallen. “I… I’m… really sorry, I was not looking, and you came out of nowhere, and I just…”.
“Hey, easy, Penny” he answered, teasing her with a nickname from their childhood. “No need to apologize, I was also distracted. Although, I would accept compensation in the form of any kind of crumble?” he asked, already calmer than he was only two minutes ago.
“I’m nothing but a giver, Bridgerton” she sang, already walking towards the kitchen.
…
“So… do you want to talk about it?”, Penelope asked once the crumble was ready and in Colin’s starving hands.
He looked up from the plate and made a questioning face.
“Oh, come on, you looked like you just came out of the battlefield when we… crossed paths”, she said, her face becoming that shade of pink he grew familiar with. “And based on the direction you were coming from I’d say… Anthony?”
“You know us too well for your own good”, he retorted.
“Well, I did become quite an intruder in your home for the last ten years or so, so it’s only fair”, she whispered shyly.
“Bridgerton House is also your home, Pen. I hope you know I speak on behalf of every single one of us when I say this”, Colin said, reaching out for her hand. And he truly meant it. Since that fateful incident with a bike, a hat and… well, his face, Penelope became a constant in his and every one of his sibling’s lives in some degree, whether as Hyacinth’s gossip buddy, Antony’s chess opponent, Benedict’s eventual muse, Francesca’s new songs critic, Gregory’s first crush (still ongoing) or even as Daphne’s fake patient, while also digging her way into Violet’s heart. Needless to say, she and Eloise were best friends, sharing pretty much every experience for the last decade.
As for him, Penelope was a never-ending list of things. From the girl next door to his sister’s best friend and, eventually, his. Then, not only his friend, but also his confidant (and he liked to believe that, sometimes, he was also hers). One of the few people who knew and liked him before ever understanding what his name meant, and someone who struggled to find her worth in the world just as much as he did. Talking to her felt easy because she accepted him for who he was, flaws and everything, and never pushed for or expected him to be any different. She was really a wonder.
After a minute, he realized what he’s done, and quickly withdrew.
Coughing and a bit flushed, Penelope continued the conversation.
“So, what’s going on? Are you two fighting about your studies again?”
“Or lack thereof…”, he completed.
“In comprehensible language, please”, she requested, patting him on the arm. “Spill”.
“I dropped out of uni. Just told Ant, and now you’re the second person to know, so if you could keep quiet just until I tell everyone else, I’d really appreciate it”, he finished, watching as his friend’s face became one of pure shock.
“Oh my god, your brother must have flipped! Did he give you the speech?”.
“The ‘that’s not the Bridgerton way’ one? Oh yeah, followed by the whole 'dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow, dishonor on the family name’ remix”, he joked derogatorily, earning a big smile from her. After a few seconds though, the kitchen was silent again.
“Aren't you gonna ask what I’m planning on doing with my life now?”, he finally spoke.
“Do you know the answer to that question?”, she said.
“Not really”, he answered, running his hand anxiously over the back of his neck, “I'm just… restless, you know? I feel trapped in the confines of this city, this country, knowing there’s so much to explore, so much to learn, and yet…” he trailed off, unsure of what else to say.
“And yet why don’t you? After all, what’s the point of having enough money to make your dreams come true and not do it?”, Penelope asked.
He thought for a moment, knowing what he was about to say was something he rarely stopped for enough time to think about for real, let alone admit to himself. Somehow, though, it wasn’t that difficult admitting it to the girl in front of him.
“What if all I have is my name, Pen? What if I’m not enough to do anything without its benefits?”, he said quietly, looking anywhere but at her.
“That’s nonsense, Colin, and you know it! You’re an intelligent, resourceful man, whose light shines on its own, and of course, even more bright when you’re with the people you love. But those lights, those fragments of who you are in no way cancel each other, on the contrary. You cannot give up your dreams before even trying, and you certainly cannot give them up for fear of discovering the person you're capable of becoming on your own. Besides, you have the means to try and fail as many times as it takes until you find your heart’s purpose”, she stated, searching his eyes until they were looking straight at each other.
Colin, for his part, was speechless. It still baffled him how different this Penelope was from the girl hiding and covering her ears to pretend her parents weren’t fighting throughout the night for months nonstop. He felt a wave of pride for the woman she was growing up to be, and an overwhelming affection at knowing she felt comfortable enough to be that person with him, even more knowing she wasn’t always confident in her own skin.
Before he could respond, however, they heard steps coming from outside the kitchen.
“Pen, finally!”, Eloise yelled from the kitchen door. “I was looking for you everywhere!”
“Well, found me”, Penelope answered a little flushed, “what’s up?”.
“Mom is making me entertain the newly-arrived guests in the living room, and if I get asked if I've found myself a boyfriend one more time you might need to call my lawyers.”
“Isn’t that what Ant is for?”, Colin asked, mouth full of a piece of crumble he had just eaten.
“Like I would ever let him defend me”, scoffed Eloise, outraged, “Kate is a much better choice and we all know it”. She came near them, fighting for a spoon of the crumble with her brother. “Besides, it’s just so satisfying watching them fight all the time”, she completed.
Both of them laughed at her, agreeing.
“So, let’s go!”, Eloise yelled.
“Really? Talking to people? Do we have to?”, Penelope whined.
“Come on, I’d do it for you”, Eloise answered, and she was right, of course. There was no El without Pen, and vice versa. It was them against the world. Sometimes, Colin envied that.
“I know, I know”, Penelope resigned, stepping down from the chair she was in. She glanced a last look at Colin and whispered, “You’ll never know if you never try, Col”, smiling sweetly before following his sister, stopping one last second to add “Oh, and if you feel like it… keep in touch?”
He stayed seated in the kitchen for a little longer, eating the rest of the crumble and calming his thoughts. The next hours were going to be difficult ones, telling and explaining his plans to the rest of the family, but he felt much more confident in his decision than he had an hour ago. Maybe this Christmas wasn’t gonna be so bad after all.
…
One week later, just after New Year’s, he got on a plane to Greece, ready to start over in a place as far away from the Bridgerton expectations as possible.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
three - running from his shame
year: 2018; c: 25; p: 20
“I've heard they have been sneaking around since the beginning of the relationship”, whispered Cressida Cowper, earning gasps from what Colin, Penelope and Eloise started to “affectionately” call “her minions” a couple of years ago.
“From what I've been told, all the honeymoon expenses were already paid. Can you imagine?", answered a brunette lady with some hideous green dress that made her look like a Christmas tree. What was her name again?
"Is she still wearing that ring? After everything?!”, asked Cressida, with feigned indignation in her voice.
"She did try to brush it off as if the whole thing was just a misunderstanding. I've never liked her, to be quite honest. Always with some attitude, like she thought herself better than anyone", admitted Laura Stowell, which several women agreed with.
"He has deleted every single photo of her from his socials, untagged himself from her photos and stopped following her. Misunderstanding my… oh, Colin! Always a pleasure to see you", greeted Cressida, having the decency of looking ashamed while she and her friends quickly made their way to the other side of the ballroom. They weren't going to be missed.
For the millionth time that evening, Colin wished he was someone else. Or somewhere else, to be honest, surrounded by anonymity, even though, due to his work, that was no longer an easy goal to achieve. For days now, it seemed that the whole world had nothing else to talk about but his life, or, more specifically, the way it had crumbled down in the last weeks. And it was all his fault.
“You know, you're not gonna be able to mould yourself to the wall, no matter how hard you try", came a familiar voice from behind him, and he turned around with a small smile on his lips.
“Speaking from experience, Featherington?”, he replied, bowing his head in a simple greeting while scanning his eyes through her outfit. She was wearing a beautiful black dress, hair up in a ponytail and a red lipstick that complemented the whole look rather nicely in his opinion. “You've outdone yourself this year, Penny. I think Daphne may have to kick you out of the party for dressing nicer than her".
She winced at the last bit, but before he had time to fully comprehend the cause of her discomfort, Penelope was already speaking again: “Daphne could never be outshined in her own Christmas gala, Colin! And besides, it's not like anyone really pays attention to me", she replied shily, capturing her bottom lip between her teeth and taking a sip of her champagne.
"Hey, no self-deprecation in front of me”, he answered seriously, looking her dead in the eyes. "In any case, it's not like anyone else's opinion matters but mine” he shrugged, watching her throw her head back while laughing at his antics.
“You're impossible", she pointed.
“And yet, here you are", he counterpointed.
“Yeah, about that… I was actually looking for you", she said, shifting nervously from one foot to another. That couldn't be good.
"What is it, Pen?", he prompted, already worried. He knew his friend for enough time to realize she was having trouble with what to say next. “You do know you can tell me anything, right?” She nodded, taking a few long breaths that seemed to calm her a bit.
“I… I really wanted to apologize. I mean, I feel terrible for everything, and we've not yet had the opportunity to speak, and I know we're in the middle of the holidays and this is supposed to be a fun night, but…” she started rambling, only to be promptly interrupted by Colin.
“Whoa, easy, tiger", he answered, confused as to why she was even apologizing in the first place. And that's exactly what he asked her.
“Well… she is my cousin, after all", she replied, voice low and eyes looking everywhere but at him.
Oh. Marina. Of course she was talking about Marina.
Ever since leaving London three years ago, Colin started looking for a way to stay true to himself while also being able to stand on his own feet. Against Anthony's so-called “opinions”, he was forever proud and grateful for the legacy that came due to the Bridgerton name, and, of course, for the doors and opportunities he'd had up until now because of it. Still, he wanted the chance to be known for who he was, not for his family. And eventually, he did.
It all began simple enough, when he decided to document through his socials – and, unknown to anyone else but Pen, in a travel diary – each place he’d go, from food, to best accommodations and even places to avoid. He made sure to contemplate every single budget, spending weeks on end in the same city or country until he was satisfied with the intel he gathered. In the next year and a half, he gradually became a huge success, receiving a proposal from his godmother to publish some of his tips on a regular basis in her renowned magazine, "The Ton". Afterwards, he would discover it was all Penelope's idea; she had just started working as an intern with Agatha at the magazine, and may have hinted something about Colin's drafts. He will never know what he did to deserve her.
That's why, after almost two years, he came home for the holidays. His family was ecstatic, having missed him for so long, especially his mother. Years had passed, but sometimes he would still catch her looking at him with teary eyes, no doubt remembering his father. This time, however, she greeted him with open arms and a beautiful smile, while Francesca rushed inside to announce he was home.
The plan was simple: he would arrive, attend the final face-to-face meetings at The Ton, spend Christmas at Aubrey and start travelling again by New Year’s, just like two years prior. What he wasn't counting, however, was bumping – quite literally and, now he knew, not at all spontaneously – into this beautiful brunette, later introduced as Marina Thompson, Penelope's American cousin. He was instantly smitten.
The thing is, looking back, after some much-needed visits to a psychologist, he could tell what drew him to her: his need to prove his worth, again and again, not only to his family or his friends, but also to himself. The day before Christmas, he was leaving Anthony's study after a surprisingly pleasant conversation about his career when the sound of someone crying caught his attention. Moments later, he found himself sitting next to the same brunette as the day before, while she told him this sad story about her family; how her father was an ass, and how she came to England to spend some time with the Featheringtons in hopes of finding a definitive way out of his grasp. She was small and fragile and beautiful and, over the course of the next week, she had Colin deciding to stay in London for a little longer, "just to make sure she is ok", he stated to his family.
Months passed, however, and he was nowhere near leaving again. To appease the magazine and his followers, and influenced by Marina’s persuasion, charm and praising words ("the magazine is lucky to have you, there's no need to leave town” and “our families rarely know what's best for us, don't listen to them”), he decided to start a new segment focused on his own town, showcasing both traditional and modern ways to enjoy the city, whether with your friends, your family or your partner. Little by little, Marina inserted herself in every aspect of his life, influencing from where he lived to the people he talked to, so much that Colin started missing not only Sunday brunches at Bridgerton house, but also game nights with all his siblings and in-laws (and Penelope, of course), not to mention movie nights with Penelope and Eloise.
At last, Marina even joined his socials for some “unscripted couple's date ideas”, causing his followers to start asking when the proposal was coming. By the end of July, against his family’s warnings (“Isn't that a bit early, son?" and “You don't even know the girl, Colin”), they were engaged.
And then it all came crumbling down when, on an otherwise uneventful Wednesday, three weeks before Christmas, he walked in on his fiancé and some unknown man, took off his engagement ring, turned around and left their flat, never looking back. Of course, eventually he discovered said man was her long-time American boyfriend, George Crane, and that everything — the father, the fear, the need for rescue, the “you're perfects” and the “you're so much more than your family” — were all but a fraud. He was a damn fraud.
But that had nothing to do with Penelope Featherington.
“Penelope, I need you to listen, really listen, to what I am about to say", he began, using both his hands to hold her face and make sure her eyes were on him. “I have never and will never hold you accountable for your cousin’s actions. If this is anyone's fault, it's mine, for letting someone like her into my life, keeping me from my family and friends and meddling with my work. Not my finest moment, I know…”, he stated, just to be interrupted by the redhead.
“It was not your fault either, Colin! You fancied yourself in love, never apologize for that”.
"Did I? Love her, I mean. Looking back now, I don't think I even knew her to begin with. All I’ve ever wanted was to find someone capable of loving me for me, not for anything else. Someone who believed in me, who encouraged me, and I of her or him, of course, for the right reasons, not because they wanted something from me. Because that's not love, right? You can’t love someone only for the things they can do for you, but for the person you become when you’re loved by them, for what you can be together. And when Marina showed up, I truly believe she saw me. That, of course, before I caught her in our flat half naked with some bloke”, he vented, watching as Penelope’s face turned into one of disgust at the last part. It felt good to finally be able to talk to someone about it.
“I’m really so sorry, Col. You deserve to find someone who will love you assuredly, fervently, loudly, for who you truly are. That person is somewhere, don’t give up just yet”, she said, with an emotion in her eyes he couldn’t really decipher. Was that… hope?
“Well, that may be true, but I don’t think I’m ready for any kind of romantic relationship in the foreseeable future. So, for the time being, I'm swearing off women", he said, stopping on his tracks once he saw his friend’s face fall at the statement. She quickly masked it with humor, though.
“Well… should I leave, then?”, she asked, feigning outrage and slowly walking away from him.
“Oh my, and here I thought the dramatics were only reserved for the Bridgerton siblings", he said amused, taking her hand and pushing her back to their previous spots. “But seriously, what I meant is… you are not women, you're just… Pen. I could never not have you in my life", he stated, still holding her hand and looking her straight in the eyes. Were they always that remarkable shade of blue?
Startled by the intensity of the moment, both of them turned forward, sipping on their respective drinks. They stayed in uncomfortable silence for a couple of minutes, watching as the gala progressed, time in which Colin replayed what he just confessed in his mind - “you're just… Pen. I could never not have you in my life". And he really couldn’t. For years now, ever since he left, from the moment he woke up to bedtime, every meal, every place, new memory, and sometimes even old ones could only be a full experience once shared with Penelope. As of late, however, she began reaching less and less to him, and if he was being quite frank, so did he to her, due to Marina’s constant complaints about their closeness. He really missed talking to her.
"Hey, how's the internship going…” he started, before being interrupted yet again by his most annoying sister (also known as Eloise by people who were not related to her).
"Can't you get your own friends, brother? Instead of keep stealing mine?”, she asked, trying and failing to reach Colin's head in an attempt to pat it.
“Always a pleasure seeing that the Christmas joy caught up to you, El. Has it ever occurred to you that Penelope may prefer my company over yours? I would”, he teased, as they made faces at each other.
"Hmm… hello? Penelope is right here and listening to you both", the redhead said, long accustomed to the Bridgerton banter. They would go on and on forever if someone didn’t intervene.
“Oh, don't mind him, Pen. He's been overly insufferable this last month. Bad choices usually do that to people”, she whispered the last part, earning a disapproving look from her friend. Ignoring her, Eloise turned to her brother next. “Good to see you're managing to stay away from the spotlight tonight, Col. Although the night has not ended yet, so we can only hope”.
“Ouch, El, thanks for the confidence vote. Although, in retrospect, I suppose I should be grateful that you’re actually speaking your mind to my face. Not enough of that going on as of late”, he answered, sounding almost laidback to anyone who didn’t know any better. But, chancing a glance at Penelope, he knew he wasn’t fooling her. She did know better.
“Oh, come off it, you really need to stop being so hard on yourself, Col”, Eloise reprimed him. “Besides, it’s not like you’re gonna stick around time enough to hear what everyone has to say once mom finally stops making them keep quiet. Where are you going this time? Japan? Or maybe to venture America for a change?”, she asked, earning confused glances from both Colin and Penelope. She beat him to it, however.
“You’re leaving already?”, Penelope asked, surprised and with a hint of sadness in her voice.
“Hmm… probably, yeah”, he answered, feeling suddenly self-conscious about his decision to start travelling again. “I mean, there’s nothing holding me back anymore, and the magazine needs content outside of London”, he concluded. And it was true. He’d been lucky Agatha had let him stay in one place for that long, but not only his followers, but also his editors kept asking for new locations, and all in all, there were only so many places and tips one could come up with during an entire year in the same city. It was time to go.
Truthfully, however, Colin knew there was more to it. Since he broke his engagement off and Marina’s affair came to public, he felt trapped in a world in which all his friends, acquaintances and even people he had no idea existed were granted first rows to his failures. People lurked, and gossiped, and judged things that, at the end of the day, weren’t ever the worst of it. Because there, heading the list of judges, was himself. Three years had passed, and he’d managed to accomplish so much on his own, but right now, he felt as lost as he had been before leaving in the first place. And so the easiest way out was to leave again.
Before either Eloise or Penelope could say anything, they were interrupted by his other sister, Francesca, and her new girlfriend, Michaela Stirling. He and Michaela went to school together, becoming good friends since then, and he may or may not have encouraged her to pursue his sister when their mutual interest became evident.
“Shall we give a little life to this party, babes? The dance floor is about to open”, Francesca said, mischief shining from her eyes.
“Thank god, I was about to sleep at any given moment. The first hours of this kind of event are always dull. I don’t know why I thought with Daphne organizing it was going to be any different”, Eloise replied, already hooking her arm with Penelope’s excitedly. “Shall we?”, she asked, looking around.
“What kind of music do they even play at a Christmas gala? Should I be worried?”, Penelope wondered, earning laughs and bumps from the other three ladies.
“Are you not gonna complain about not being invited, Col? Should I call a doctor? Has the drama left your body for good?”, Michaela joked, noticing her friend’s been quiet since they arrived. Weird.
“Hmm… I think I’ll pass this time, Mika. You go have fun, ladies”, he answered, sounding distant.
“Well, let’s go!”, Francesca beamed, already turning on her heels to leave, Michaela right behind her.
Before the two remaining women left completely, though, Colin seemed to wake up from whatever thoughts he had been entertaining, turning to his sister for one last question.
"How do you even know I'm leaving, Eloise?”
“You've become quite good at doing so over the years, Col", the brunette said matter-of-factly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. When they started walking again, Penelope turned around to look at him, a frown in her brows, face asking silently if everything was alright.
“I’m okay”, he mouthed. “Find me when they’re done monopolizing you, okay?", he asked, watching as she nodded and turned around, both ladies making their way to the dance floor.
…
A couple of weeks later, when he was on board his plane to Brasil, his sister’s words were still replaying in his mind.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
four - running from his feelings (poor pen)
year: 2020; c: 27; p: 22
“Are you coming for Christmas?”, Penelope had asked a couple of weeks before.
To an outsider, it looked like a simple enough question to answer. Hell, one year ago, even Colin would’ve found it harmless, ordinary. Like a clock, when winter arrived, he was used to getting bombarded by everyone in his family about whether he was returning home or not. And yet, he had known there was nothing simple about that question in particular.
There was nothing simple for months now when Penelope was involved.
To be fair, it made sense for her to ask. Last Christmas, due to his coverage of the Netherlands’ holidays traditions for the magazine, he wasn’t able to make it to Aubrey Hall to celebrate. Later on the 25th, when he went back to the hotel, he made sure to call his mom to wish her merry Christmas, talk to his niblings and share a laugh with his siblings. And then, he called Pen, who sneaked to her bedroom earlier because she had worked on a deadline the entire day, and they spent a couple of hours talking about everything and nothing until she fell asleep. When they hung up, Colin went to bed, a smile on his lips, knowing he was gonna have the first good night of sleep in ages.
And that was also when the first dream happened.
For the initial couple of weeks, he tried to ignore them. After all, it had been a while since the last time he had been intimate with someone. There had been flirting, and the occasional make-out sessions, but he didn’t take things further than one or two dates. When he confided in Pen a year ago that he wanted to swear off women, he really meant it. So it wasn’t a really big deal to be having sex dreams about his friend.
Except suddenly, they were not sex dreams anymore. There were blue eyes, auburn hair, plush lips and the most heartwarming laugh he knew, all combined in the same person, all telling him with words and gestures that she wanted him, that she wanted them, over and over again. There was a sense of belonging and domesticity that, looking back, was always there and, more importantly, felt right. Penelope felt right.
Was that what realizing you have feelings for your best friend looked like?
And then, of course, came the awkwardness. The missed phone calls, and the cancelled movie nights, because, honestly, he hadn’t known if he could look her in the eye and not spill everything that was on his mind. This phase didn’t last long, however. He could live with the dreams, and the doubts, and the feelings that he was still quite scared to name. But he had never been able to live without her.
Which is why, a couple of months and not many new developments later, he noticed a change on her end of the relationship. Barely perceptible if one wasn’t looking, so much that he wondered if it was all in his mind. If somehow she seemed distant and reticent because suddenly he craved her attention like the air he breathed. If she looked like she was holding something back because he now wanted to know every single thought that went through her mind.
So when she asked, in the middle of November (the 10th, a Tuesday, at 10:33 am, to be exact – not that he was obsessing or anything), if he was coming for the holidays, he didn’t really know what to answer. Wasn’t yet sure how to deal with everything he was feeling while not being able to talk about it with the one person who always understood him the most. And he remained like that up until one day before Christmas, when he booked a ticket, got on a plane and made his way to his family, and to her. Because he really fucking missed her.
Only she wasn’t alone.
His name was Alfred, apparently. According to Hyacinth, he was 29, Danish, and worked as an ornithologist in the same company as Phillip Crane, Eloise’s boyfriend, who was also responsible for introducing them at a party a couple of months ago. They’ve been seeing each other seriously for the last few weeks and, when he mentioned in the middle of November that he would not be able to make it home for the holidays, his sister had invited him to stay at Aubrey with them. Traitor.
The party was already in full swing when Colin reluctantly made his way downstairs, absently appreciating the work put into it. This Christmas celebration was, once more, hosted by his family at their country house. Kate (née. Sharma, before she married his brother Anthony) had certainly outdone herself, though she refused to take credit for it, pointing at Sophie (née Beak, before also marrying his brother Benedict) and going on and on about how nothing could have been possible without the help of the newest Bridgerton spouse.
Walking into the main room, he looked around in search of a familiar glimpse of red hair. They hadn’t had a chance to talk alone yet, exchanging nothing but pleasantries and small talk since he arrived, both laced with a kind of discomfort that was never there before. Sure, she looked fairly surprised by his presence, just like everyone else in his family, but it wasn’t just that. And to be honest, she wasn’t the only one feeling it either.
She hadn't told him. She's been dating this Alfred bloke for all this time and never even mentioned him, not once, not even en passant. He racked his brain trying to remember every conversation they had, every call unanswered, every “I have a thing, Col, can’t make it tonight”, every moment she, unbeknownst to him, was slipping away. Well, at least it was clear now why she's been distant as of late. And also the reason for that “Are you coming for Christmas?” question in the first place.
But why? Didn’t she want them to meet? Didn’t she trust him enough to talk about her love life, just like he had years ago talked about his own? And, more importantly, could it really be that serious between them? She would’ve mentioned him if it was, right? Could she really like this Alfred guy? He liked birds, for god’s sake! How particular was that? And since when Penelope was into blondes?
Half an hour and a couple of drinks later, he found her at the gardens, predictably not alone, but hand in hand with “bird man” as they chatted (or, as it looked like, she did) with Eloise and Francesca. Every so often, he would make a quick remark, and then spend the next minutes standing still like a statue while the women spoke animatedly. Jesus, what a bore.
“Colin Bridgerton, as I live and breathe!”, Michaela’s voice came from behind him, and he turned to see her making her way from a group of people to where he was standing. “How magnanimous of you to grace us all with your humble presence for the holidays”, she joked, smiling wide and already hugging him. He laughed at her antics, hugging his friend back.
“Fuck off, Mika. You know damn well why I didn’t make it last year, and besides, we’ve seen each other, what, three months ago?”, he asked, pushing her away in a friendly manner. Of all of his in-laws, Michaela was the one he saw most frequently, due to her constant travels as a professional handball player. More often than not, he would coordinate his destinations with her competitions, so that he got to see not only his friend, but also his sister Francesca.
“Come on, you can’t really blame me for being surprised at this last-minute appearance, can you? From what I’d heard you weren’t even coming until… yesterday?”, she countered, chancing a glance around the gardens until she found Francesca chatting with Penelope and Eloise. She turned back to Colin in time to listen to him choke a “Yeah, something like that”.
“And am I allowed to ask the reason for this… sudden change of plans?”, she asked, brow raising in an inquisitive way.
“I just missed home. It happens from time to time”, he said mechanically, having rehearsed and given that answer more times than he could count for the last hours. Unfortunately for him, however, this time his body betrayed his mind, and he found himself turning towards the redhead a couple of meters away from them, who was currently waving her arms in the air as she usually did when trying to make a point about something. He really missed home, he thought, and there was nothing casual about it anymore.
Right then, Debling came back to their group, two glasses of orange juice in his hand, and handed one to Pen, who thanked him with a shy smile, but didn’t sip it. Didn’t he know she preferred lemonade?
“You know, if you stare at him like that for a little longer, the man might combust into flames”, Phillip appeared from behind him, patting his back while also nodding towards Michaela. “What has poor Alfred ever done to you?”, he concluded, looking between his friends.
“Oh, I do believe the question you should be going for starts with a ‘who’ instead of a ‘what’, Phill”, Mika stated, eyes sparkling with mischief. Before Phillip could catch up with her words, though, Colin was already speaking.
“Would you stop? I’m just getting used to it, that’s all… It’s been a while since Pen had a serious boyfriend. And I’ve always known most of her flings, knew what to expect”, he rushed to say, trying and failing, if his friends’ eyerolls were any indication, to sound nonchalant by the turn their conversation had taken. It didn’t help that Michaela had been witness to Colin constantly checking on his phone for any sign of Penelope for the weeks they spent in the same city a few months back.
“Well, if that’s what you’re so worried about, don’t. The man is as predictable as a clock. Home to work, work to home, doesn’t like literature, music, movies, or joy, apparently. I’ve yet to see him managing to spend an entire conversation without bringing out birds or nature or fucking global warming. Almost as rare as a conversation in which you don’t mention Penelope, I suppose”, Michaela mocked, earning a glare from her friend.
“But he’s also a great guy, super intelligent, with a stable career and very good intentions and, more importantly, he likes Penelope very much. Besides, what’s wrong with being predictable? He’s reliable, and that’s a great thing when it comes to a partner, isn’t it?”, Phillip countered, ever the voice of reason amid the Bridgertons’ usual passionate side.
“Well, I don’t know about that, but at least he lives in the country. Remember what that feels like, Col?”, Michaela asked, turning directly in his direction with a pointed look.
“Why are we friends again?”, he groaned, knowing full well she’d made a good point.
“So that we could finally see you taking your head out of your ass and realizing you’re in love with your best friend?”, she quipped, already adding “Don’t bother denying it!” when she saw him taking a long breath.
But he wasn’t about to deny it. What was the point, after all, if it was true?
He had spent so long trying to feel less, trying to be the man he thought everyone wanted him to be. And somehow, he had managed to find so much of himself these last few years, to grow not only as a person, but as a son, a brother, a professional and a friend. But there was always someone who he knew for certain loved every single version of him, from childhood to now, even with its flaws, struggles and doubts, and who never asked him to be anything he wasn’t already. Who loved him for him, just as he loved her for who she was: from the girl escaping her parents when she was seven to the teenager glued to walls trying not to draw attention, up to the beautiful woman she became, brilliant in every single way possible. And they’ve been all of these versions of themselves together, always pushing each other, always making each other better. Wasn’t that exactly what he said love was a few years ago to the same redhead he was now head over heels in love with?
But was love enough? Could he really intervene with her happiness like that, or with her relationship, not even knowing if her feelings were mutual? And if they were, what could he offer her? He wasn’t here most of the time, wasn’t stable. God, he didn’t even know where he was going to be a month from now, let alone in the next few years. Was he enough?
“You know”, Michaela spoke again, sensing the way his mind was spiraling in all the wrong directions. “A couple of years ago I found myself in love with this beautiful girl, and didn’t really know if she could ever feel the same. But then I spoke with a good friend of mine who told me to go for it, because love is supposed to be shared, not hidden”, she finished, searching for his hand to take.
“And when I was scared of asking Eloise to move in with me and the kids after we bought the house, that same friend was the first one to encourage it, telling me happiness was worth the risk”, Phillip added, smiling at him.
“He does sound like a genius of sorts, that friend of yours”, Colin joked, letting go of Michaela’s hand and looking up to mask the tears that were threatening to fall.
“Don’t push it, Bridgerton”, both his friends said at the same time, which caused a collective burst of laughter to erupt, catching Eloise’s attention, who waved at them to join the group. Turning in their direction, Colin found Penelope’s eyes already at him, a look he didn’t quite recognize in them, sending a jolt of adrenaline through his body. Not for the first time, he wondered if she could read him as well as she always had, could understand the depth of his feelings now that they were directed at her. Would she even want to?
They stayed like that for a few minutes (or maybe seconds, he couldn’t tell), lost in each other’s gaze, until Penelope looked away.
“Are you coming?”, Philip asked, making his way to his girlfriend. Michaela was also walking away, but turned around to wait for his answer.
“I think I’m going to find some water to drink, the alcohol is starting to make its way right to my head. See you guys later”, he said, glancing one last time at Penelope before making his way inside the house in search of a waiter.
…
In retrospect, it wasn’t that uncommon for Colin to run into his mother in the kitchen. The place was, after all, one of their favorites, even more so when a party was being hosted, whether it was for the relative peace and quiet (in Violet’s case) or for the food (in Colin’s). So, as he walked through the doors looking for a glass of water after failing to find a single waiter in the main room, he wasn’t surprised by the voice calling him over.
“Colin, sweetie, Merry Christmas! I’m so glad you’ve come to celebrate with us this year, we all miss you so much”, she exclaimed, taking him in for a hug. Since he first left London, Colin knew no one in his family felt his absence like his mother did, which is why he made an effort to always call, always text, always be present in any way that he could without physically doing so. But nothing compared to being home, and as of late he started to miss it more and more.
When they parted, she asked “What do you need? Are they feeding people alright out there?”
“Don’t worry, mother, they’re doing an excellent job, and besides, the whole point of Kate and Sophie being the ones to organize the party is for you to relax for a change”, he answered, calling her out for not enjoying the event without worrying. “I just came down here to find a glass of water and will be on my… oh, are those meat pasties?” he asked, already grabbing one from the plate Violet had made, which earned him a pat in the hand.
“Will you ever stop stealing my food?”, she said, setting the plate out of his reach when he went for another one. “Ask the cook for your own, would you? This plate is for your Auntie Georgie”, she scolded him. He pouted, but kept his hands to himself.
“What’s the fun in that?”, he retorted, smiling devilishly before noticing his mother had more plates and jugs then she would comfortably manage to bring to wherever she was planning on going. “Do you need help bringing everything to Auntie Georgie?”
“Oh, actually yes, thanks, darling”, she sighed relieved, passing her son a jug. With everything in hand, they made their way out of the kitchen and into the crowd, eventually reaching the stairs that lead to the family wing. Decorating the walls from top to bottom were pictures of the past heads of the family, going from nowadays till up to the 1800s, with Edmund’s photo being the last one.
When they finally reached the top, Violet turned around to find her son staring at his father’s portrait, looking lost in his thoughts. Not for the first time since he arrived, the matriarch felt something was troubling him, and was just about to ask what that was when Colin beat her to it.
“Mom, can I ask you something?” he inquired quietly, still looking at the picture.
“Anything, honey”, she said promptly, walking closer to him.
“You and dad… were friends for a long time before getting together, right?” he asked, and she nodded, looking confused as to where the conversation was going. After all, Violet knew all her eight children were well aware of that fact, having been told their parent’s love story over and over again since childhood. How they’d met when children at school, Violet a shy and sweet girl, Edmund a charming extroverted boy, and became good friends and even confidants before, years later, started feeling something more and decided to give themselves a shot. How, in the long run, the love and trust they previously had for one another were crucial for building a beautiful family, proving his mother’s point that the best foundation for any marriage is friendship.
That wasn’t his real question, though.
“When your feelings towards each other began to change, how did both of you know you felt the same?”, he added, finally turning to her.
Violet looked taken aback for a moment, looking him in the eye as if beginning to understand what was on his son’s mind. Slowly, she took a step closer, smiled in a reminiscing manner and said “Well, it took us some time to get there, mostly because we were both scared. But, at the end, we knew because your father gathered the courage to ask me. And I had the courage to answer with my heart, not my fear”. They stayed silent for some time before either one of them spoke again.
“You know, people are always telling you how similar you are to your father … physically and in personality, I mean, and they’re not wrong”, Violet started. “But that’s not all, son. Edmund also struggled to find his path in the world, his purpose, and for a time he truly believed he wasn’t deserving of happiness, of being loved wholeheartedly by someone. Thinking back, in a way, that was what brought us closer together. But he was deserving, and so are you. And so is…”.
Before she could complete her sentence, however, they were interrupted by steps coming up the stairs. Eventually, Penelope appeared at the top, cheeks and lips pink and arms around her body in an attempt to warm herself, although it didn’t seem to be working. For the hundredth time since he arrived, Colin wasn’t able to tear his gaze away. That night, she was wearing this beautiful long-sleeved red dress, light make-up and hair down, and he fought the urge to interlace his fingers in them just to remember how it feels. She was perfect.
“Oh hey guys… sorry to interrupt. I just came up to fetch a sweater, it’s freezing outside. I’ll be out of your way in no time”, she said, looking apologetic.
“There’s no need to hurry, darling. In fact, Colin, why don’t you pass me that jug, I can manage to the living room just fine”, she asked, already reaching out for the item, leaving no room for discussion. “I’m sure you both have much to catch up”, she finished, looking pointedly at her son before walking away.
When they were left alone, an awkward silence followed, one he was determined not to let last for long. So, without overthinking it, Colin took off his sweater, walked the remaining space towards his friend and gently put it on her. Then, stilling her hands with his, he brought them to his back, hugging her with his own. “To help with your cold”, he managed to explain, resting his cheeks on her head and taking a long breath, the first proper one since he saw her a day ago. “Merry Christmas, Featherington”.
She hugged him tighter, burying his head in his chest, before answering “Merry Christmas yourself, Col. What are you hoping Santa will bring you this year?”, she joked, easing herself in his arms. He thought for a moment before speaking again.
“Courage”, he replied frankly, bringing one of his hands to gently stroke her hair, playing with her curls at last.
“Courage? Planning on doing something reckless in the future?”, she shivered when his fingers found skin, but this time, he had a feeling it had nothing to do with the weather. He shook his head in a negative manner.
“That depends. I want courage to own my achievements, and understand that my flaws don’t make me less worthy of being happy. I want courage to accept and share my feelings, whether they are good or bad, instead of running from them. And, most of all, I want courage to fight for the things that are most precious to me, for the… people who are most dear to me. I want courage to stay. Does this sound reckless to you?”, he choked, and watched as her head snapped up, eyes wide, looking at him with something akin to… hope? Was he projecting?
Over the last few months, through thoughts or dreams, Colin imagined a world in which Penelope loved him back in the way he wanted her to. What it would be like to wake by her side, go to sleep with her in his arms, build a home together, have a family of their own. A world full of coffee dates, library visits, lazy afternoons and cozy nights in, of travelling, walking hand-in-hand and loving her unconditionally. A world full of her. It still startled him how long it took for him to realize Penelope owned his heart, even though he only ever felt at home besides her. She was his home.
But he also tried to contemplate a life without her light, her laughter, her love, even if not how he wanted it. A life in which he confessed his feelings but, instead of reciprocating them, she pulled away, distancing herself from him. Said scenario was unimaginable. He had no idea how to live in a world she wasn’t by his side, in any capacity, simply because it had been years since he lived in one like that.
Could he be brave enough to risk their friendship by wanting so much more than that? But on the other end, was he ready to spend another minute watching the woman he loved being with someone else that wasn’t him, not knowing if somehow he could make her as happy as he knew she could make him?
They stayed like that for what could be seconds, what could be hours, lost in thoughts and in each other, trying to convey so much and yet not saying a single word. At last, they heard a cough, and a male voice broke their bubble.
“Penelope, I was looking for you. They’re about to start the game, are you coming?”, Debling said, halfway through the stairs. Upon noticing his arrival, the redhead stepped back from Colin, looking torn, eyes still searching for his frantically as if asking a question he was more than willing to answer only a minute ago.
But the moment was gone and faced with reality, his courage was once more replaced with the absolute terror of not being enough in the eyes of the one person to whom he always was, of having his feelings rejected by her. So, he stayed silent, averting his eyes eventually.
“I’ll be right there, Alfie”, she answered, finally giving up and taking his eyes away from him, ready to leave. Suddenly, however, she turned around one last time, seeming resigned.
“You know, it’s only reckless if it’s not worth fighting for in the first place”, she said, adding, with teary eyes and ragged breath “but it’s so much easier to just run away, right, Bridgerton?”, before turning completely and withdrawing, leaving a speechless Colin behind.
Unconsciously, he turned back to his father's painting, which stared back at him as a reminder of all it could be if only he had courage to risk it. Finally, he whispered “Apparently I’m nothing like you when it matters, dad”, and went back to his room, staying there for the rest of the night.
…
And, two days later, as he packed his luggage to leave yet again, not even waiting for the year to turn, for the first time in his life, Colin hated to be running more than anything in the world.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
+ 1 - running towards his happiness (not letting go)
year: 2025; c: 32; p: 27
Colin Bridgerton was running late.
As he crossed yet another crowded London street in search of a cab, dodging cars and pedestrians on his way, he kept repeating those words in hushed whispers, nearing a panic attack with each step that he took. Even so, he refused to stop until he got where he needed to be.
He was a man on a mission.
Finally (finally!) he spotted a black cab coming in his direction and started signaling in a borderline maniacal way till it stopped right in front of him, and the driver motioned for him to enter. He needn’t be told twice.
Once he apologized for his eagerness, gave Luke (he was used to asking the drive’s name before starting any ride) the correct address and made his current state of tardiness very clear for the hundredth time, Colin leaned back on his seat, took a deep breath and let a little laugh through his lips. “I’m coming, Pen”, he thought, fidgeting uncontrollably. “Just a few more minutes”.
Checking his phone to see if there was any new message, he smiled at the familiarity of his situation. It seemed like a lifetime ago when, on a Christmas’ eve just like this one, he took a cab from the airport and made his way to Penelope’s apartment, heart beating wildly, but head clear for the first time in forever.
The entire year since that almost confession in Aubrey Hall was the worst of Colin’s life, although also one of the most important ones. Penelope’s last words were followed by a gradual decrease in their communication, which, added to his constant regret for not telling her how he felt and by his inability to open up with anyone from his family or friends, made him spiral even more.
“(…) but it’s so much easier to just run away, right, Bridgerton?”
But even at his lowest, even with her absence in his day-to-day life, Penelope’s presence had already made residence in his heart and his mind. And it was the memory of all they’ve ever been through together that helped him finally seek the professional help he needed to comprehend his inability to face his own feelings head-on, slowly overcoming it. Because over the years, without even realizing, Penelope also gave him plenty of the answers that, with his own work on himself, lead Colin to her door, heart on his sleeve, ready to tell his best friend he wanted her to be so much more than that.
“You’ll never know if you never try”.
“You deserve to find someone who will love you assuredly, fervently, loudly, for who you truly are”.
“You know, it’s only reckless if it’s not worth fighting for in the first place”.
Thankfully, so did she.
That was four years ago.
Since then, he had moved back to London for good, striking a life-changing deal for a book series based on everything he gathered from his previous travels; they moved in together, first in her flat and months later in a house of their own, with a big library and an even bigger garden, on which swings were placed, just like Bridgerton house. It was only fair they got married near the holiday that brought them close, and apart, and finally where they had always belonged, a year later. They had really come a long way, he thought, being so near to …
"Sir? We're here”, Luke said, taking him out of memory lane and back to his current state of hurry. Giving the driver more money than was necessary, he jumped out of the vehicle, yelling a quick “keep the change, and Merry Christmas!” before resumed running towards a building that took up almost the entire block.
Once inside, he didn’t need many instructions, taking the elevator straight to the fourth floor. Since Daphne graduated and started working there, he grew accustomed to its corridors, often visiting between her breaks to eat, talk or simply be. At this point, pretty much all the staff knew not only his name, but his and Pen’s entire love story, which explained why, as he made his way to the waiting room, everyone stepped aside, beaming or throwing encouraging words. When he crossed the double doors, however, chaos ensued.
“Where is she?”, he questioned as he caught his breath, looking at the floor with his hands on his knees.
“Finally, son!” Violet sighed, coming for a hug, just as Hyacinth’s “You’re late, dumbass!” reached him. He turned to her, heart in his throat, when Francesca and Michaela obstructed his view.
“Not that late, Col, don’t worry. I’m so glad you made it”, came Francesca’s smoothing voice, and he almost fell to the floor with relief.
“Were you in another country or something? Christ, it took you ages to get here”, spoke Michaela, patting him on the back. Free from his mom’s grip, he could finally take a look around the room, spotting Kate, Anthony and Sophie, all looking at him with big smiles on their faces.
“How are you people already here?”, he managed to ask.
“Our office is nearby, you know that”, Kate chuckled, looking between him and her husband. “We came as soon as we heard”.
“Leave it to these two to work on Christmas’ eve”, Violet whispered in his ear.
“And we were with her at Eloise’s when it all started”, Sophie explained.
“El looked like she was about to faint the whole ride here, you guys should have seen it”, Hyacinth said, throwing her head back in a laugh in which they all joined.
“Jeez, isn’t she used to it by now?”, Anthony pointed with his customary “big brother” tone. “I mean, it’s become a common occurrence in this family by now”.
“You’re one to talk”, Kate mocked, eyebrows raised. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ve been with Daphne both times, it’ll be easy as pie”, she impersonated him, earning snorts from everyone around except her husband. “Couldn’t even make it to the room without being sick”.
“That I cannot complain”, Sophie spoke, bringing both her hands up in an apologetic gesture when Anthony’s eyes shot to her. “Benedict even recorded the whole thing, made an edit and everything, not that any of you were interested in seeing it”, she finished, a glint in her eyes, watching all her in-laws avert their gaze.
“Speaking of your brothers”, Violet intervened. “They’re both on their way here from the gallery and uni. Simon sent his best wishes, but is in the middle of a reunion and will not be able to make it until later. Portia and her daughters were informed, and I suppose are also coming, same with Agatha. You haven’t told her yet about the name, have you?”, his mom asked, and he shook his head negatively, grinning. “She is gonna be so happy, son. Oh, and Phillip…”, his mother stopped, startled by the sound of doors opening.
“Phillip was just waiting for the nanny to arrive and will be here in no time”, Eloise finished, standing right in front of him with an exasperated look. “Did you bring it?”, she asked, eyeing the huge green bag on his hands suspiciously.
“All of it, just like it was planned. And yes, I’ve already called Rae and asked her to tidy everything over there”, he rushed to add, already dizzy from the Bridgerton usual madness, but being able to predict his sister’s next question.
“I can’t believe you guys won’t make it to the party!”, Sophie said. “It’s the first one here in London since I’ve met Benedict”.
“Well, at least there will be more food for everyone to eat”, Anthony replied, eyeing his brother amused. Before Colin could retort, however, the subject had already changed.
“Oh, have you bought balloons? I could come and get them for you if you haven’t”, Kate suggested, standing up from her chair.
“And flowers!”, Hyacinth yelled excitedly.
“And alcohol”, Anthony added, earning a glare from his wife. “For Col, love! Chill”, he justified. “Brother, back me up here”, he turned to Colin who, at that point, couldn’t focus on anything anymore, such was his anxiety. He was still trying to form understandable phrases in his mind when, thankfully, an angel came to the rescue.
“Will you people let him breathe, from crying out loud”, came Daphne’s voice from behind him. As he turned, faintly aware of his family whining due to her known favoritism for Colin, his arms were already opened to welcome his sister. “The man looks like he is about to burst an aneurysm with all of you talking over each other”, she joked, hugging him back.
“My savior”, he whispered, relieved. After a moment, they parted and he managed to speak “Could you please point me to where my beautiful wife is, sister?”, to which she smiled wide.
“I’ll do better than that”, she said, interlacing their fingers. “Let’s go”.
…
The next couple of minutes passed in a blur of corridors and patients, and Colin wouldn’t be able to remember them even if his life depended on it. All he knew was that one second he was with his family in the waiting room, their usual craziness surrounding him, and the next everything went silent, and he was standing in front of a door, watching as Daphne tried to gain his attention.
“You really can’t be in there?”, Colin tried one last time. They’ve already discussed this before, and the answer was the same as always.
“I’m family, Col, you know that. They have strict rules about these cases. But I’m right here if any of you need me”, Daphne reassured, gripping his hand. “Are you ready?”, she checked, and Colin nodded fiercely, composing himself before pushing the door open and walking inside.
The room was pretty simple, with white walls, two big windows on both sides and only a bench with the necessary medical instruments right across from him, where a nurse (Beatrice, if he was not mistaken) stood with her back turned, talking excitedly with the most beautiful woman in the world, also known as his Pen, who laid in a bed, eyes closed and hands on her belly.
Colin stood by the door for a minute, taking her in like he frequently did. Penelope was wearing this light pink gown that covered up until her knees, no make-up, and hair down but not in the way, since she decided to cut it a few months back for this exact purpose (and if it turned her husband on to no end, that was just a bonus, right?). From time to time, over the last four years, she would catch him staring for too long, just for the sake of doing so, and he would simply shrug, smiling lovingly. He was never gonna tire of getting to love her assuredly, fervently, loudly, for the rest of their lives, just like she did him, he thought, tears already gathering in his eyes.
Just then, at a particularly strong contraction, as it seemed, his wife stopped talking, let out a little whine and opened her eyes, surprise taking over her features as she spotted him by the door. Alarmed by her pain, he dropped the maternity bag he’d been carrying and ran to her side, taking her hands in his and giving them a little squeeze, while also asking if there was anything he could do.
“Unfortunately, just wait, Mr. Bridgerton”, said the nurse, coming to collect the bag from the floor and stand by their side. “The doctor will be here any moment now”, she informed, handing Penelope a cup of ice chips, who promptly thanked her before turning back to Colin and noticing his teary eyes.
“Are you crying already, husband?”, she asked amusedly, using her free hand to wipe the tears from his face.
“Did you expect anything different, wife?”, he chuckled, taking said hand and kissing its knuckles.
“Not really”, she whispered, hissing a moment later as a new contraction, stronger than the first one, came. “How is the waiting room?”, she questioned though greeted teeth.
“Delightful, as you can probably remember from previous experiences. Anthony and Kate are already here, because they work close by. The rest is on their way, but don’t you worry about that now, everyone has been informed of this sudden… Christmas gift arriving early, one may say”, he answered, smiling wide. “We really can’t help it, can we?”, he smirked. “It’s always on the holidays”.
“Eloise is convinced we cheated on this one”, Penelope huffed, outraged, slowly taking the ice chips to her mouth.
“Has she passed out yet, by the way?”, Beatrice joked, earning a giggle from the couple.
“It’s like she’s the one on this bed, seriously”, Penelope said, seeming to relax a little. Colin let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding before speaking again.
“She got you here in one piece, so I’m not complaining this time around”, he confessed, looking between both women.
“That was Francesca, actually”, Penelope pointed out, watching as her husband’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Well, in that case, I really hope they recorded the journey down here in detail”, he quipped, just as Dr. Sharma walked in and joined Beatrice in the corner of the room, reaching for gloves.
“I heard there was some crazy man running around this floor like it was the freaking Olympics a while ago. Know anything about that, Bridgerton?”, she questioned and, even though he couldn’t see her, Colin knew she was suppressing a smile.
“You really shouldn’t be entertaining hospital gossip, Edwina; you know how people like to exaggerate”, he replied sheepishly. “In any case, maybe ask security to check if Gregory has already arrived in the building, he does have a tendency to make grand entrances”, he continued, making both the doctor and his Penelope laugh. When they caught their breaths, Edwina made her way to the foot of the bed to examine the latter. A few seconds later, she emerged from the covers.
“Alright, Pen, it’s time”, she said, looking up at the couple who in turn were staring at each other with grins on their faces. “I’ll just give the nurse some instructions and come right back, ok?”, she added, and left as they both gave her small nods without breaking their gaze.
“Are you sure you want to stay?”, his wife asked, noticing Colin’s trembling hands. Leave it to Penelope to be worried about him when she was the one in a hospital bed, he thought. “I’ll not hold it against you if you don’t. There’ll be a lot of cursing going on”, she added, searching his eyes with a nervousness of her own.
As he considered not only Penelope’s question, but all the way their lives were about to change in the next minutes, Colin breathed heavily and, not for the first time since they finally got together, expected that familiar feeling in his belly to take over. The one that made it hard to breath, difficult to think, and usually ended with him running away the fastest he could in the opposite direction. And it did happen from time to time, after all, he was just human.
But as his wife’s eyes locked on his, and she smiled that beautiful smile that was only ever his, Colin once again realized that no urge to run from your fears would ever be worth the choice to face them head-on, at the risk of achieving the life you had always dreamed of. And if you’re lucky enough to find people who choose to build that life with you, like he did, walking by your side as you try to become the best version of yourself, there’s nothing left to do but run to them, and grab that happiness with both hands, never letting go.
“I’m not going anywhere, Pen”, he rushed to say, leaning forward to give her a peck on the lips before Edwina made her way back to them. “It’s us. It’s only ever been just us”.
And when the bluest eyes he had ever seen looked back at him, and his fingers graced the tiny hand of their beautiful daughter, he knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Merry Christmas, Agatha. We are so excited to meet you, baby girl”.
