Colin has made it: He’s a famous pop star, touring the world, adored to extremes. If only he wasn’t drowning his loneliness and anxiety in too many drinks, missing home and yet incapable of going back.
But when Violet falls ill and he reluctantly returns he has to face the mess he has made - not only with his family but also the woman who might have always been the one.
I remember less and less and mostly things that I regret
In my phone are several texts from girls I've never met
And in the pocket of my jeans are only coins and broken dreams
My heart is breaking at the seams and I'm coming apart now
- Bibia Be Ye Ye
Colin wakes up in the sitting room. His head is pounding and his stomach lurches when he blindly fumbles for his phone. Ten past eleven. He doesn’t know how long he stayed up. There’s only fractured memories, spinning lazily around his head. Confusion. Pain. A bottle of gin. Then clearly: Penelope. The kiss, the panic, the disappointment. The moment she walked away from him, his fragile heart in her hands. Self-loathing rises in his throat, along with last night’s alcohol. He hates himself for relapsing, for falling into old patterns he’s been trying so hard to break. And he hates himself for hurting Penelope. But it all happened so fast and— Shit. He frantically unlocks his phone, searches the news for his alias, then checks his socials to see if he has been tagged in any photos from last night. Nothing so far. Only the usual mass of message requests from adoring fans or mindless bots — it’s hard to tell the difference. Maybe he is lucky for once, maybe the women will not publish the pictures or be too hungover to remember. He slowly rises to his feet, makes his way to the window and rips it open to take in some fresh air. Just as he thinks he might be able to keep the contents of his stomach where they are, the door opens.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” Eloise walks in, a strange expression on her features. “You look like shit, dear brother.”
He huffs out a bitter laugh.
“Did something happen after we left last night?”
“Sweet El, never one to beat around the bush.”
“She's gone, Colin.”
“What?”
His splitting headache briefly lets up as he stares at her in shock.
“There was a note, saying she needed to ‘check up on her flat’. So what the hell happened?”
Colin tries to form words but nothing comes out. His brain is once again flooded with the questions that tormented him into the early hours of the morning. Does she regret the kiss? Can they be friends again after this? Would she want to? Would he? Could they ever truly work in the light of day? God, did kissing him make her realise she wants to give Alfred another chance? He should be due back in London any day. Colin imagines them together right now, Penelope laughing in relief as she tells her boyfriend that these past few weeks have been nothing but a silly little nod to days gone by, to something that cannot and should not be revived. That she has been caught up in a fantasy.
Colin feels the familiar signs of an oncoming panic attack and just like he has done so many times before, he tries to push the emotions down, to close himself off from his own heart, from his racing mind. He has grown too comfortable with Penelope’s steady presence, too reliant on her wisdom, humour and solace. And he should have never let her get so close in their little corner of the world last night. They had fought off temptation so many times, he should have stopped her before she could imprint herself on his heart in ways he hadn’t thought possible. In ways that no amount of repression and gin could reverse.
“Colin?”
He finally focuses back on Eloise.
“You need to breathe. Hey, look at me. Just try to breathe, okay?”
She steps towards him, then carefully places her hands on his arms. He follows her slow, deep inhales and exhales. And after a long moment the anxiety begins to subside.
“El,” he whispers. “I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
Eloise tries to calm his as best as she can, tells him that Penelope just needs some time to figure things out. That he is partially to blame, sure, but that she was the one who initiated the kiss. That they will work through this somehow.
“I can’t lose her,” he says, his voice trembling.
“What’s going on?”
Hyacinth stands in the doorway, paling at the sight of her devastated brother.
“It’s about Mum,” Eloise quickly replies. “And he has a terrible hangover. Will you fetch some water, coffee and eggs on toast from the kitchen?”
“But—“
“Please, Hy.”
She leaves reluctantly and Eloise turns back to him.
“It’ll be fine, Col.”
“I mean it. After everything that’s happened these past couple of weeks… Losing Mum will be hell. But losing any of you again, losing her… I couldn’t bear that, I just—“
“You will not lose her. Pen will always be a part of the family. No matter what, she would never abandon any of us. Haven’t the last five years shown you that?”
He thinks of the texts they exchanged after his escape. Strained, sparse. But consistent. Birthday wishes, Christmas greetings, updates on her life and his family, congratulations on his career highlights. Her name on his screen a beacon in the darkness that often threatened to close in on him.
“She is confused. Like I said, when it comes to you, something in her brain just gets mushy,” Eloise says with the hint of a smile. “You coming in here like a wrecking ball is clearly making her question everything. But even if she decides not to take a chance on you and your insane life, she will always be there. Pen loves you. I don’t know if she’s still in love with you, she probably doesn’t know herself. But you matter to her.”
Colin nods slowly, the nausea once more catching up to him. He instinctively rubs circles on his stomach.
“Are you?” Eloise suddenly asks.
“Hmm?”
“In love with her.”
It’s strange to hear the words so bluntly. The question has been rolling around in his head ever since he set eyes on her at the airport. Had his feelings for her ever truly disappeared? Or had he been fooling himself, just like he had about so many other things? Ever since his return he’s been so caught up in this complex web of emotions and circumstances, of hopes and fears and doubts that he cannot separate whatever he’s feeling for her from the rest. His heart is being pulled in a million different directions and all he can do is try to keep it whole.
“I’m not sure.”
“Really? ‘Cause from what I’ve seen lately you worship the ground she walks on.”
“Jesus, El.”
He chuckles nervously.
“Oh, don’t pretend I’m the dramatic one here.” Eloise smirks, then pulls down his face to press a kiss to his forehead. “Give her some space. She’ll be back.”
Colin is desperate for a walk, to regain even a wisp of clarity, but after what happened last night he doesn’t dare leave the premises any time soon. So he retreats to the gym instead, in a familiar, yet probably vain attempt to sweat out the regret along with the alcohol. He has been training for an hour when Benedict walks in.
“Reckoned I’d find you here.”
“Why?”
“Believe it or not, you’re like Anthony — well, in this regard. I once saw him do 200 sit-ups after he had to let one of our most-trusted employees go for fraud. I thought it was punishment but he said it cleared his head, gave him endorphins or something.”
Colin shrugs.
“On good days.” Then he frowns. “Has Eloise told you—“
“She didn’t have to. I saw you sleeping on the sofa this morning with a half-empty bottle on the floor. And since El said you all had great fun, I assume something happened with Penelope to have your night take a turn for the worse.”
“Ah.”
Benedict raises his brows, waiting for a proper reply. But Colin just resumes his bench presses. After a minute of silence his brother grabs a mat from the shelf and rolls it out on the floor.
“You’ve heard Ant’s story — and mine,” he says while folding himself into a cross-legged seat. “We Bridgerton men don’t do easy romance, it seems. But it’s all been worth it.”
“Ben, I love you, but I really don’t want to talk about this right now. I need to figure it out by myself.”
“And here I was thinking you had learned something.” Benedict tilts his head at him. “You have us back, Col. You don’t have to figure anything out by yourself.”
Colin lets the barbell crash onto the rack, tears pricking his eyes. He inhales deeply as he sits up.
“We’re in the same fucked up situation we were in five years ago. Except this time everything’s worse and now she’s run away and…” He runs his hands across his face. “God, I just don’t know.”
“Are you afraid she doesn’t return your feelings? Because I’ve seen a couple of boyfriends come and go and she’s never looked at any of them the way she’s always looked at you.”
“Maybe. But I’ve only just got her back as a friend. She’s technically still in a relationship. And this life I’m leading… I can’t force that onto her.”
Benedict’s features soften.
“No, that’s her decision. But talk to her, Colin. About all of that. Not talking to her was what messed things up last time, wasn’t it?”
“Does anyone in this family not know the ins and outs of my history with Penelope?”
“It’s pretty much the only entertainment we get these days.”
Colin groans.
“You’re insufferable.”
“You said you love me — no take-backs.”
“Uh huh.”
He glowers at Benedict, then gestures at his mat.
“You still doing yoga?”
“And pilates. Otherwise that desk job will have me crippled by thirty-five.”
Colin watches for a while as his brother does some neck and shoulder stretches.
“Have you ever thought about pursuing art full-time?”
“Not sure that would be better for my back.”
Benedict grins and Colin rolls his eyes.
“Be serious for once.”
“Believe it or not, I actually like the job. I have Anthony and Sophie around, Daphne and Eloise often consult. And we’ve been making great progress in pivoting the company from a cash machine to something that actually helps people.” He gives Colin a crooked smirk. “Life’s not all black and white. I don’t have to give up my work to be an artist.”
“You’re saying that was just me overreacting?”
“No. I think you did have to get away for a while. Just not in such an extreme manner.”
They fall silent for a moment.
“How did you know about my exhibitions?” Benedict suddenly asks.
“What?”
“You brought them up the other day. How did you know? I thought you’d blocked us everywhere. Did Pen tell you?”
Colin’s hands fidget in his lap.
“I made anonymous accounts to follow you. And I have Google alerts for all your names.”
“Huh.”
“You guys should really be better about privacy.”
They smile crookedly at each other.
“Maybe we just wanted to leave a back door open for you.”
After a long shower and dinner Colin settles into the sitting room with Hyacinth and Gregory for a while, humouring them with stories of celebrities he’s met over the years. It’s a decent distraction. Still, he checks his phone for any word from Penelope. Nothing. Only two missed calls from Mei. He sighs, deciding to get back to her in the morning. Then he sets the device to Do Not Disturb for the night and leaves it on the side table. Without it near, he might actually get a wink of sleep.
Two hours later he gives up staring at his bedroom ceiling. He clearly doesn’t need his phone to keep overthinking. Colin pulls on some joggers and sits down at his desk. Maybe some of these old lyrics stuffed into the drawers are still salvageable. Then he hears it. Careful steps on the stairs. And he wishes he didn’t know her well enough to recognise the familiar pattern. His breathing grows unsteady as he listens to Penelope’s feet making their way to his door. An eternity passes. A soft sigh, then she retreats and a few seconds later slips into her bedroom, leaving Colin with sweaty palms and a racing heart. Minutes go by, with several voices shouting over each other in his mind until he jumps up and strides out of his room. He doesn’t allow himself to hesitate before knocking softly. There is not a hint of surprise on her face when she opens up. Colin, however, can barely disguise his when he is faced with the copper cascades flowing over her shoulders. They’re even more beautiful than he remembers.
“So you’re braver than me,” she whispers, a nervous smile playing on her lips. “Come in.”
He nearly trips over the threshold and she clicks the door shut behind him.
“Your…” He gestures at her hair and she blushes under his perplexed gaze.
“Yeah. You were right. I’m not afraid of being seen anymore. And I didn’t want to keep pretending.”
“Well, you look—“
“I broke up with Alfred.”
He gapes at her, slack-jawed.
“The things you said to me last night… It’s true, I don’t deserve a partner who never prioritises me. Who will never be nearly as invested in me as he is in his work. I’m not sure there was ever a real spark between us anyway. And I felt so guilty after last night, even though he and I were technically on a break, I just… How could I act like there was still a chance for us after kissing someone else?”
Someone.
“Right, that sounds… reasonable.”
“Speaking of, I need to apologise. I was tipsy and I get too brave when I’m tipsy but coming at you like that was not okay and I’m sorry.” She rakes her fingers through her hair and Colin momentarily loses himself in the sight. “I don’t do things like that. These past few weeks have just been very… strange. Some days I barely recognise myself.”
He breathes deeply, trying to calm his hammering pulse.
“I’ve never meant to rattle you, Pen. You shouldn’t be caught up in my mess. If you want me to keep my distance for a while, I will.”
“No. Please don’t.” She steps closer and his heart rate skyrockets again. “I’m sorry I pushed you away last night. I was just… so ashamed and confused and then those women—”
“Again, I’m so sorry that—“
“Colin, it’s okay. You got pulled back into your pop star life for a second, I understand. I mean, not really, but you know.” She smiles and he hesitantly returns it. “And you came running after me.”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
He hesitates.
“Because I needed you to be safe.”
A long pause.
“Right. Well, I was fine but thank—“
“And because I didn’t want them, I want you.”
The words pour from his mouth before he can contain them and in an instant his stomach is flooded with anxiety. But he can’t backtrack. Because now that he’s said the words he knows them to be true with perfect clarity. Penelope just stares, wide-eyed and flushed. When she finally recovers her voice is thin.
“Do you mean that?”
His eyes flit between hers, unable to decipher what is going on behind them. He swallows hard.
“If you’d rather forget about that kiss, I understand. But I never will.”
A wave of lavender and honey overwhelms him when she stumbles into his space, one hand landing on his chest, the other reaching up to his jaw. He trembles beneath her touch.
“Please,” he whispers, ignoring the screams in his head that this might be another mistake. “Please, Pen.”
She gazes at him in pure wonder. And then she finally presses her lips to his.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
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