✨Where Fantasy Meets Reality✨
Chapter 11: The Confessional (Here’s to hoping)
Pairing: Benedict x Actress!Reader [Benedict as Luke Thompson and Y/N as Yerin Ha inspired]
Content Warnings: This chapter contains ANGST, Mentions of Lukerin interviews/Benophie scenes
Fandom: Bridgerton | Lukerin | Benophie | Sophiedict
Length: 7k
Summary: Two months after a whirlwind Bridgerton press tour, Y/N is finally ready to move on from her dreamy co-star, Benedict. Their tour was a blur of electric chemistry, endless laughter, lingering touches and facing each other so much that cameras only caught their side profiles (iykyk). When Y/N lands the lead role in a new movie, she expects a fresh start. Instead, the script reveals a familiar name tied to her past, forcing her to confront emotions she thought she had imagined. As fiction begins to mirror reality, Y/N must face the one question she’s been avoiding all along: was it ever real for him, too?
✨Masterlist
The Daily Grind with Rumi and Yaz [Guest Star Asher James]
The show flashed back onto the screen after a quick commercial break. Settling into the second half of the interview, the two female hosts sat opposite Asher James. The actor was practically buzzing with excitement. He looked ready to burst as he hyped up his two massive projects: this month's highly anticipated re-release of Endgame and the upcoming December premiere of Doomsday.
Rumi: Let's change gears this time and talk about what's been happening with you lately, Asher. Specifically, the massive theory that is absolutely taking over everyone's FYP right now regarding you and your lovely co-star, Y/N?
The live audience immediately lost it, breaking into loud oohs and cheering as the energy in the studio spiked.
Asher: (Laughs) What? Wait, since when?
The young actor scrambled to fix his poker face. He’d spent weeks preparing his Marvel talking points and making sure he didn't accidentally spoil a major plot point. He never anticipated they would pivot to his personal life today.
Yaz: Since day one, obviously! Your fans are basically FBI agents at this point. They’ve been collecting serious receipts. Between the behind-the-scenes candids and all those photos surfacing online, everyone is completely obsessed.
Rumi: We are too! (Laughs) You and Y/N have been spotted practically everywhere together, hitting up cozy cafés and restaurants while you're up in Canada.
Asher: (Rubbing the back of his neck, laughing) Yeah, well… I mean, we’re shooting a film together right now, so we're together a lot. She’s great. Honestly, one of my closest friends.
Rumi: Only a close friend?
The interviewer leaned forward with a mischievous grin, clearly hinting for something more.
Yaz: Right? Come on! Look, we know December is still a few months away, but tell us, when Avengers: Doomsday finally premieres, will we see Y/N by your side on the red carpet to celebrate?
Asher: I mean… that honestly sounds like a lot of fun. (Grinning) I’ll definitely have to check in with her about that.
He did his absolute best to keep his answers strictly platonic. He did have some ‘media training’, despite what the internet comments liked to claim.
Rumi: Speaking of the premiere, which will take place here. I know you’ve been an L.A. boy your entire life, Asher, but do you think she’d like it here?
Asher: Wait, do you mean, like… for a vacation?
Yaz: Well, yeah, sure! A vacation… or maybe something a little more permanent? Like, do you think she’d ever swap down under to move out here with you?
Asher: Oh, I don’t know. Maybe? (He scratched his head on that one) Sure, why not? We’d have an amazing time!
And he honestly believed it. It wasn't even a hypothetical, he’d literally tried to convince her to move before. Twice actually, first time didn’t really count but he brought it up again with her. He knew he was acting like a total goofball on live TV, but he can’t help the smile breaking through his ‘media training’.
Yaz: (Leaning forward, gasping) So… is that a yes?!
Asher: I’m just saying she’d love it here! Funny enough, we actually have talked about this before. I’m sure we can figure something out.
He had no idea why his brain was suddenly dwelling over the thought of Y/N living in L.A., but the mere idea of hanging out with her every day, just like they have been doing back in Montreal, had him completely buzzed. Maybe he’ll call her later or during his free time…
Rumi: We actually heard that you guys are huge trivia nerds together. Do you think she’d be down for an MCU trivia battle?
Asher: (Laughing, shaking his head) Err… I don’t know about that. Honestly, I might have to volunteer to represent the both of us for that one.
He said with a sheepish grin, and the live audience chuckled along with him.
Asher: But anything non-Marvel? Oh, she’d completely destroy me. She’s just amazing at everything else.
The two interviewers exchanged a knowing, triumphant look, absolutely thrilled with his answers. Satisfied that they’d just snagged the ultimate viral exclusive, Rumi and Yaz beamed at the cameras, officially wrapping up the segment and thanking Asher for stopping by.
The clip ended.
Y/N closed her laptop with a soft thud. On her phone screen, Ava was waiting on FaceTime, her sharp gaze completely locked onto her face.
“Well?” Her agent prompted.
She let out a long breath, pinching the bridge of her nose as she felt a headache blooming. “He’s such an idiot. But I can’t completely blame him, though. Those hosts were obviously digging for clickbait, and he walked right into their trap.”
“That, I already knew,” Ava said, her tone softening into something surprisingly gentle.
Y/N’s eyes scanned the headline glowing on her screen one more time:
ASHER JAMES TALKS “DOOMSDAY” & HAPPILY EVER AFTER WITH Y/N IN L.A.
A frustrated groan escaped her lips. “Oh, for the love of — ”
“Exactly. Which is why I’ve been calling you nonstop,” Ava sighed. Y/N winced, looking at the five missed calls she’d blissfully ignored since yesterday.
“Sorry, Ava. I’ve just been… a little distracted lately.” She trailed off, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret she shouldn't be.
The woman on FaceTime went quiet, studying her face through the camera. After a beat, Ava's sharp, professional edge softened into something much warmer. “…Is it anything I can help you with?”
She offered a faint smile, shaking her head. She deeply appreciated that her agent was always in her corner, but she knew she needed to handle said distraction all on her own later.
“Well, let me know. I’m always just a phone call away,” Ava promised. “But back to our viral problem. I already touched base with Asher’s management, and honestly? They’re ecstatic. They think this is gold-tier PR for the movie. Since Echo Veil is a love triangle, they want to let the internet run wild with it to build hype for you and Asher. Especially since you and Benedict already have such a massive, established fanbase to compete with.” Ava paused, leaning closer to her camera. “I told them we’d think about it first.”
Y/N nodded silently, a knot forming in her stomach. In the span of a few hours, the media had twisted, recycled, and stretched a single, harmless interview into dozens of clickbait articles. Every headline claimed she was packing her bags for Los Angeles because MCU’s Asher James had "confirmed" they were going to "figure things out."
“What does the rest of our team think?” She asked, her voice tight.
Ava looked down, her silence speaking volumes.
“I see,” Y/N said, a short, bitter laugh escaping her lips. “So it’s exactly like last time. We let the internet speculate wildly because it’s free marketing.”
“We can still put out a statement right now if you want,” her agent insisted, looking up. “But a producer from your current project already called me yesterday. They see the engagement numbers. Unfortunately, they want us to lean into it.”
Y/N let out a defeated sigh. She wasn’t naive. She knew that in this industry, public perception was everything. Shutting this down right now would trigger an instant backlash, risking a disastrous opening weekend that would completely undermine the cast and crew's hard work. She couldn't carry that kind of guilt on her shoulders. Like it or not, she had to play the Hollywood game.
“I guess we don’t really have a choice, do we?” She said, looking back at the screen. “As much as I want to tell the world that Asher and I are strictly friends, putting out a statement right now is just too risky. I don’t want to tank the movie’s momentum before we’ve even wrapped production. There are too many jobs riding on this. If the studio wants to use the noise, then let them speculate.”
“Fair enough,” Ava sighed. “But what about the Bridgerton fans? Trust me, they are currently in full mourning online.”
A heavy wave of guilt washed over Y/N. In reality, she was just as devastated as the fandom, though for a completely different reason. Her mind immediately drifted to Benedict and his stupid, frustrating prior engagements. It was a messy, complicated situation that she still needs to confront today.
“For now, let’s stick to a strict ‘neither confirm nor deny’ policy,” she said, trying to sound a lot more confident than she actually felt. “That way we don’t alienate any of the fandoms. As long as there’s no official statement from our side, everything else is just background noise.”
For some reason, she wasn’t entirely panicked. Over the course of time, she’d learned that her fans were fiercely loyal and incredibly sharp. They had a knack for dissecting interviews and reading between the lines. It was actually a little terrifying how often they were spot on. They would see right through the PR stunt.
“Copy that,” Ava sighed, the skepticism is still clear in her voice.
Neither of them sounded particularly convinced, but the pressing topic naturally fizzled out. They spent another ten minutes ironing out minor schedule updates before finally wrapping up the call.
The silence settled over her bedroom, leaving her completely alone with her thoughts once again.
Y/N’s fingers tightened around her phone. Letting out a shaky breath, she reread the text he’d sent yesterday. The words made less sense the longer she stared at them.
Prior engagements. Really?
Was that honestly the best excuse he could come up with after the weekend they had just shared? She thought back to Saturday afternoon, remembering the exact moment Benedict had abruptly disappeared into his bedroom when Asher called her.
Could he really be that jealous?
It didn't make sense. Him canceling on her over something so petty felt completely out of character. Her gut feeling told her she was missing something vital, because he was normally the most grounded person she knew.
Realizing she wouldn't find peace sitting alone, Y/N grabbed her purse and keys. Outside, her town car pulled up to the curb. She was heading to the studio early, well before the scheduled night filming even began.
She was going to extract the truth from him today.
No matter what it cost.
***
The moment Y/N stepped onto the busy set, she spotted him right away. She raised a hand, trying to catch his eye, but the second their gazes locked, Benedict abruptly turned on his heel and hurried in the opposite direction.
She froze, her hand dropping to her side. That was undeniably strange.
Maybe he just hadn’t seen her?
But deep down, she knew he had.
Another opportunity arose twenty minutes later when she caught him pacing near the edge of the soundstage. To her frustration, a sudden wave of nerves hit her.
Why was she the one feeling anxious when she was supposed to be the one demanding an apology?
Taking a breath, she stepped forward. “Benedict?”
He glanced up, his expression entirely blank, before immediately returning his attention to his script. “Can I help you with something?”
Y/N flinched at the biting, polite distance in his voice. She had arrived ready to corner him and demand answers for his text, but his icy demeanor completely derailed her, leaving her entirely too stunned to speak.
“Hey, Benedict, they’re ready for you,” a PA called out, passing by with a clipboard.
“Right, thank you.” He didn't even look back at her as he closed his script folder. “I’ve got to go.”
He sounded incredibly tired, or maybe just flat-out indifferent. Before she could gather her thoughts to respond, he was already moving past her.
All Y/N could do was stand there, staring blankly after his retreating figure.
***
By the time dinner break rolled around, Y/N’s patience had been wearing thin.
Bea, Chelsea, and Ian quickly became the unwilling audience to her misery as they all collapsed around a table in the catering tent.
“He literally won’t talk to me,” she groaned, dropping her head onto her hands after yet another failed attempt to corner him. “He just ignores me. The second he spots me coming, he walks the other way. It is infuriating.”
Bea’s jaw dropped slightly. “He won’t talk to you? Are you serious? Yesterday, he kept teasing you and you were practically glowing. Honestly, watching you two made me feel like I was suffering from a severe concussion.”
Chelsea winced, sliding her phone across the table. “Do you think it has something to do with that viral talk show interview?”
“I mean, what else could it be?” Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I’ve been racking my brain all afternoon, and nothing else comes up. I haven't done anything to offend him.” She hadn’t even touched her food. The mere thought of swallowing anything past the lump of anxiety in her throat made her sick.
Bea aimed her fork at Y/N, her tone firm but protective. “Hey, you need to stop acting like this is your fault. You weren’t the one on that talk show, and you certainly weren't the one who canceled your date. For all we know, he just needs some space and he'll come to you when he's ready.”
She wanted to believe her, but in all the time she’d known Benedict, she had never witnessed him act like this. He was always so attentive, so considerate. Honestly the sweetest person she knew. Knowing he was usually the definition of being levelheaded, she couldn’t shake the terrifying suspicion that she was missing a piece of the puzzle, and her anxious attachment was absolutely skyrocketing.
“Well, has anyone seen him recently?” She asked.
Both Bea and Chelsea shook their heads in unison. Ian, however, was strangely quiet. He kept his head down, completely focused on his dinner plate and carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone at the table.
All three women instantly locked their eyes on him.
Y/N leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “You know something.”
Ian froze, but stubbornly refused to answer.
“Seriously, Ian, talk,” Chelsea insisted.
He kept his mouth shut, holding his breath, until his gaze reluctantly collided with Bea’s. One look from his girlfriend was all it took to break his defense. He slouched in his chair, sighing heavily.
“Okay, fine. I saw them earlier.”
“…Them?” Bea pressed.
Ian winced, looking like a man preparing for a death sentence.
“…He was with Danielle.”
Y/N’s heart stopped. Danielle? As in, beautiful, stunning, perfect Dani?
Something dark and unpleasant coiled in her chest, sending a massive wave of insecurity straight through her. She tried to force a calm facade, but the emotion flooded her system before she could block it. Raw, unadulterated jealousy consumed her entirely. She looked ready to commit a felony, and the sudden shift in her aura was so intense the other two women instantly noticed.
Clearing his throat awkwardly, Ian rubbed the back of his neck to break the suffocating silence. “They were having dinner together over by the catering trailers…”
Bea fixed her boyfriend with a slow, warning shake of her head, silently commanding him to shut up. She quickly turned back to Y/N, her hands raised in a calming gesture. “The healthy thing to do now is to talk about this peacefully, right?” The makeup artist shot Chelsea a desperate look, begging for backup.
“Exactly,” the PA chimed in instantly. “Because if this whole mess is just a case of mutual jealousy — ”
Y/N shot her a death glare.
“…Or, you know, just his jealousy! Because you are the picture of calm,” Chelsea corrected, before continuing. “Regardless, a non-violent intervention is definitely the move here. A little sit-down. You guys can hash it out like civilized adults.”
Y/N tried to hear them out, but it was a losing battle. It was impossible to teach her heart to listen to reason when she was extremely consumed by the storm of emotions inside her.
The rest of the evening only made things worse. By the time the director called them back to set after dinner, her anxiety and jealousy had curdled into something far more potent.
Anger.
It flared up every single time she caught sight of Benedict hovering around Dani.
Y/N admits that she was being completely unfair to the blonde. Over the course of the shoot, she’d actually grown to like the actress, despite a rocky initial impression. But that friction had been entirely Y/N’s own doing. Her early envy during the first months of filming could be directly traced back to her own unresolved feelings for the British actor.
Tonight, however, all her old insecurities were back with a vengeance, and Dani’s effortlessly stunning existence felt deeply offensive. Mostly because Benedict seemed perfectly capable of talking to her, smiling at her, and spending time with her.
Was she his prior engagement? Or was he actually throwing a tantrum over Asher?
The lack of answers was driving her insane. To make matters worse, the pitying looks Chelsea kept tossing her way proved she was doing a terrible job of maintaining her poker face on set.
***
By the time filming finally wrapped, Y/N had finally reached the end of her patience.
She was getting answers tonight.
The walk toward Benedict’s trailer felt oddly peaceful. Most of the crew had already started heading home. The lot was quieter now, illuminated by scattered floodlights and the occasional glow from open trailers.
Y/N rounded a corner and then stopped. She could hear familiar voices, three of them.
She edged closer, hoping that lessening the distance would help her understand what they were saying. But she quickly realized volume wasn't the issue, but the language itself.
She didn’t speak a word of French, but after months on set in Montreal, she knew exactly how it sounded.
Stepping deeper into the shadows, Y/N finally spotted the trio huddled near a production trailer. She knew all of them, and whatever they were arguing about looked incredibly intense.
Mike was talking to the other two, his shoulders slumped in absolute defeat. But it was Benedict and Dani who drew her focus.
Benedict looked completely protective, stepping into the actress’ space and placing his hand on Dani’s shoulder. They looked entirely too intimate.
Y/N tried to see Benedict’s face more in the low light. She had never seen him look like this before. His features were sharp enough to cut glass, etched with an expression that made him look like an entirely different person. For a split second, she almost didn’t recognize him.
All her anger evaporated, instantly overridden by pure concern. She stepped out of the shadows. “Benedict?”
All three heads turned and their conversation stopped immediately.
Mike actually looked relieved by the interruption, while Danielle shifted uncomfortably, her eyes dropping to the ground.
Benedict, however, looked like a man at his wit's end. As if he had been through an exhausting battle all day and was finally running on fumes.
“Not now, Y/N.” The warning in his voice was sharp and harsh.
“Are you oka — ?”
“I said, not now.” He didn't raise his voice, but the tone was freezing and tightly restrained, which only made it cut deeper. “Go wait in my trailer.”
Y/N stared at him, completely paralyzed by disbelief. The hot sting of embarrassment rushed to her cheeks as she realized she’d just been dismissed like a child in front of her colleagues.
In an instant, the cold fury from earlier flooded right back into her system.
Fine!
She turned on her heel. She would wait in his trailer, and she would count down every single second until he had to face her.
***
Twenty minutes later, Y/N was still waiting. Unable to settle down, she had been pacing a frantic path back and forth across the floor the moment she stepped inside.
The interior of Benedict’s trailer felt deeply, strangely familiar now. A direct reflection of his apartment, as she recognized the stack of classic books, the scattered scripts, and the leather-bound sketchbook lying forgotten on a nearby table.
Under normal circumstances, invading his personal space would have made her heart flutter. Tonight, however, she was running on too much pure adrenaline to appreciate anything at all.
Every passing second fueled her irritation, so by the time the trailer door finally clicked open, she was practically vibrating with too many mixed emotions.
Benedict finally stepped inside.
His expression hadn’t improved. If anything, he looked even more hollow. The second the door clicked shut behind him, he crossed the narrow room in two long strides. Without a single word of explanation, he reached out and captured her wrist.
Y/N pulled back with everything she had. “What do think you’re doing?”
“Here I thought you disrupted my entire evening because you wanted to talk,” he rasped, his controlled composure finally slipping as he reached for her again.
“No.” She yanked her hand away. She could see her rejection hurt him.
Good.
“You don’t get to touch me right now.”
Benedict pulled back, something dark flickered across his features, but he forced himself to slowly drop his hand. Instead of pushing her further, he sank onto an empty chair, desperately trying to ground his racing thoughts.
“Well, what is it you need?” He was right back to his freezing, distant demeanour.
“What do I need?” Y/N repeated, a sarcastic laugh escaping her lips. “You have got to be kidding me! You can start by giving me an explanation for yesterday. Why did you completely disappear on me?”
“I told you, I had prior engage — ”
“Do you mean Dani?” She cut him off before he could even finish his absolute bs of an excuse. “Was she your so-called ‘prior engagement’? Hm?”
“No.”
That was Benedict’s only response. A flat, sharp syllable that gave away absolutely nothing.
“Then what was it?” she demanded, stepping closer, entirely intent on tearing down his wall of secrets. “Why did you cancel on me yesterday?”
She was well aware of how unhinged she must have seemed in that moment to an outside observer. People didn't fall apart like this over broken plans. But she didn't give a damn about appearance.
The rest of the world hadn't been led on by him. She was the one who had been fooled to believe they were building something real. She had gotten deeply, fully invested, both emotionally and physically, only to watch him pull the rug out from under her feet once again.
“Did any of it mean anything to you at all? Or was this all an act?” she demanded, her eyes flashing with desperation.
Benedict’s gaze dropped to the floor for a beat before drifting back up to meet her eyes. He looked completely drained or bored, as if he’d rather be anywhere else right now than to try and fix whatever was going on between them.
She scoffed, the sound sharp and laced with pure disbelief. “Are you actually serious??”
The lack of a response was driving her mad.
Y/N couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that she was finally face-to-face with him, yet she was still getting absolutely nowhere. Desperate to crack his defenses, she scrambled to think of another approach before she completely lost her mind.
“Alright. If you don’t want to talk about yesterday, then why have you been icing me out tonight?” Her voice dropped, but the raw hurt tainted her every syllable. “Why have you been avoiding me all night?”
Benedict’s mouth twitched, a shadow of a humourless smile touching his lips, as if he found something deeply twisted in the situation. “It’s rather difficult, isn’t it?” he murmured. “To be the one who does the chasing. Try enduring that for a bit longer… it’s only been a single day for you, love.”
The weaponized use of his favourite nickname sent a cold shiver down her spine. It’s cruel and it’s meant to completely inflict maximum damage. He was striking back.
“So what, you wanted payback?” Y/N asked, the realization sharp and bitter. “But why now?”
She could feel her entire body actively resisting her next question, recoiling from the absolute desperation of her own words.
“…D-did I do something wrong?” She hated how fragile her voice sounded. A wave of shame washing over her as she realized she had reduced herself and her pride just to get him to look at her.
If Benedict noticed the sudden fragility in her tone, he didn’t show it. Instead, he simply went back into being unresponsive.
The suffocating pressure building inside Y/N’s chest all night finally snapped, and unfortunately, her anger had always been directly wired to her tear ducts.
“Just talk to m-me…” her voice cracked completely, a hot blur of tears burning behind her eyes. The sheer agony she’d been carrying since yesterday was the only thing keeping her upright.
She swallowed hard, throwing out her final, desperate gamble. “Is this about Asher?”
Benedict looked up instantly, his dark eyes pinning her in place. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek.
So he is jealous.
She pulled her arms around herself, a desperate attempt to protect herself since she already felt too vulnerable and exposed in front of him. “If this is about Asher, then just say so. I told you before, we’re just friends. Don’t you trust me?”
Benedict still refused to answer, but the raw intensity in his eyes was a silent admission. She was finally drilling through his armour.
If this was just pure envy, she half expected him to at least give her the benefit of the doubt. She had made sure to reassure him that her relationship with Asher was entirely platonic, yet here he was, throwing it all back in her face.
“Have you even seen the interview?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Yes.”
Y/N forced herself to swallow, blinking away the heavy tears pooling under her lashes. “You have? H-how? I thought you said you were always offline?”
“Why, love? Were you hoping to keep it a secret from me?” The cynicism in his tone was unmistakable.
“That’s not what I meant — ”
“No? If you didn’t want me to find out, then next time, keep your phone on you, love.”
Hold up.
The world around her instantly ground to a halt.
“My phone?” she repeated blankly.
“The one you left charging,” he said flatly.
A heavy wave of realization crashed into her as the scattered puzzle pieces instantly locked into place:
Monday morning, her dead battery, Benedict in her dressing room…
“Oh my God,” she breathed, her jaw dropping.
The agonizing hurt she’d been simmering in all evening transformed right back into white-hot anger. “So not only do you lack the basic decency to trust me, but you actually went through my phone?!”
Benedict’s head snapped up. For the first time all night, his icy composure fractured, a flash of genuine panic bleeding through his expression. “That is absolutely not what happened.”
“So let me get this straight, you don’t trust me but I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” Y/N challenged, her laugh laced with pure incredulity.
“For fuck’s sake, Y/N, give me some credit! I would never do that to you.” Benedict snapped, his chest heaving as his composure dissolved completely. “The bloody thing was vibrating off the counter. I thought it was an emergency. I thought someone from your family was trying to get a hold of you.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but the words died on her tongue. She closed it again because, unfortunately… that sounded exactly like him. He was right about her device, too. Her notifications had been definitely blowing up around that time.
“My intention was never to invade your privacy,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to the floor as his shoulders slumped. “But when I saw the headline on the lock screen… I got curious. I looked the interview up on my own mobile.”
Even though his explanation made perfect sense, she was still far too angry to let his logic calm her down. She still wanted to hold him accountable for something. She refused to let him off the hook that easily, especially since she still needed him to acknowledge the pain he'd caused.
Y/N took a shaky breath, her chest heaving. “And then what, Benedict? You watched it and just assumed that Asher and I are secretly dating? Is that honestly what you thought?”
His entire body flinched at the accusation, but she pushed forward anyway, refusing to let him retreat into his shell.
“And now you’re just going to throw away everything that happened between us this weekend? You're just going to leave me hanging and move on?”
Benedict closed his eyes briefly, retreating back into his statue-like stillness. Y/N wasn’t even sure if he was still listening to her, but she wasn’t about to stop now. Fresh tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision as a crushing wave of helplessness washed over her.
“You could’ve just come to me about this instead of pulling this disappearing act,” she choked out. “God, this is just like London all over again.”
Benedict’s eyes snapped open, locking onto hers with a gaze so sharp and dangerous it could have drawn blood. “Don’t.”
Y/N completely ignored the warning. The dam had burst.
“After the wrap party, I never heard from you again.”
“Y/N — ”
“Not even a single message!”
His jaw tightened so hard a muscle twitched violently in his cheek. “You don’t know what you’re talk — ”
She didn’t care that he was finally speaking again. She just wanted him to feel the full weight of her resentment. “You said we’d stay in touch,” she mocked, her tone dripping with bitter sarcasm. “You made me believe we actually had something, and then the second I left London — ”
“No, absolutely not. You do not get to bring up London!” Benedict’s shout exploded through the narrow trailer like a gunshot, his expression twisting into pure, seething fury.
Y/N’s jaw dropped as she stared up at him.
Benedict rose to his feet, completely dominating the space as he towered over her. His chest heaved sharply. In all the months she had known him, she had never seen him look this genuinely furious.
“You do not get to lecture me about London.” He lowered his volume, a lethal, controlled vibration in his tone that proved he was fighting for composure.
“You have absolutely no clue what happened the second you got on that plane.” Beneath the anger, his features shifted, exposing a man who was completely and utterly shattered.
Blinking back her tears, Y/N found her voice after the initial shock settled. “Excuse me? I had to go home,” she countered, her voice shaking as sheer confusion began to derail her anger. “You told me you were too busy with theatre, anyway. So I don’t understand why — ”
“I lied.” Benedict cut her off, the confession tearing from his throat.
After that, it was as if he had finally opened the floodgates. Once that admission escaped him, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.
“When you asked me what happened after the press tour… I wasn’t busy. Fuck, Y/N, I never went anywhere.” Benedict looked away, his chin dropping as if he were too deeply ashamed of what he had to say next.
“I didn’t do any theatre… I just couldn’t anymore. For weeks, I just stayed locked inside my flat. I stopped answering calls. I didn’t want to see another soul. Even my family, my friends… they all thought I was just resting after the tour. But no, I didn’t do much of anything, really. I couldn’t… even if I’d wanted to. I became so bloody empty the moment you left.” The confession sounded pathetic to his own ears, a desperate admission of defeat.
He knew it, too.
But Benedict no longer cared about his pride. He rubbed a heavy hand over his face, letting out a long, ragged breath. He was utterly exhausted, yet a strange wave of liberation washed over him the second the truth was free. All this time, he had been so aggressively focused on her, whether keeping his distance or realizing it was physically impossible to stay away, that he hadn't recognized the suffocating baggage he was still carrying.
All this had been weighing him down all along.
Y/N stopped breathing, her gaze locking onto him as the world tilted on its axis. This wasn’t the answer she had expected from him at all.
For months, a quiet part of her had resented him, convinced he was out there living his best life while she was left drowning in his absence. She had never known… she couldn’t have possibly guessed.
“Benedict… I — ”
It was her turn to become completely speechless. The words evaporated from her tongue, leaving her staring at him in stunned silence.
“You are very good at leaving, by the way,” he murmured, voice laced with bitterness. And it cut through her like a physical blade.
“You left London so quickly after the wrap party, I honestly believed I’d scared you away,” he confessed, his voice dropping into a rough whisper. “I thought you’d realized how transparent I was being. How desperately I wanted you.”
His eyes burned, as he continued. “I thought you’d taken one look at the way I was falling for you, and decided that getting back to Sydney couldn’t happen quickly enough.”
“That’s not true,” she breathed, her voice trembling as her heart shattered for him.
“Well, that’s exactly how you made me feel, love.” His voice trembled. “I didn’t even get a say in the matter. You just always leave whenever you feel like it.”
Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. The defensive anger she’d been hoarding completely gone, replaced by a crushing empathy for the agony he had endured because of her.
“So when Echo Veil came along…” Benedict continued, his voice dropping into a soft, rough whisper. “I took the role.”
“Because of me?” She stared at him in complete disbelief.
“Of course because of you, Y/N,” he replied, looking at her as if it were the most obvious, indisputable truth in the world. His hard expression softened briefly, fracturing to show the gentle man underneath.
“But I didn’t want to expect anything this time. I warned myself not to get too close, because I was terrified I’d drive you away again. I just knew that being near you made it easier to breathe. That was enough for me. But I was foolish to think I could just coast along the edge of your orbit without getting pulled under. You were always entirely impossible to resist.”
Tears were falling freely down Y/N’s cheeks now, but she ignored them, stepping forward instinctively. Every protective fibre of her being just wanted to comfort him, to mend the damage she’d unknowingly caused.
“The second Asher gets back on set, I’ll talk to him,” she said, her voice shaking as she wiped frantically at her face.
But Benedict just watched her, a hollow silence wrapping around him. “Whatever for?”
For the first time all night, it felt as though the suffocating darkness between them was finally lifting. She could fix this. She knew she could.
“The interview. All these ridiculous rumours circulating, the PR stuff... I don’t want any of it to continue. I'll shut it down. I’ll fix it… for us.”
His expression shifted instantly, a profound, chilling sorrow overtaking his features. He looked at her with those beautiful, sad green eyes of his, but the warmth in them was entirely gone.
“It was never just about Asher, love,” he confessed, his voice barely rising above a broken whisper.
Benedict’s eyes searched hers, swimming with ache. “The first night we spent together… you left. We explicitly agreed we’d talk.” A sharp spasm of pain flashed across his features, and he swallowed hard before forcing out the next words. “But the next morning, you were just gone. It honestly made me feel small, Y/N. As though I’m just this one thing you keep leaving behind. I tried to see it from your perspective, convincing myself it was too much, too soon. But I wouldn’t really know. Like I said, you fled before we could ever discuss it.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, a wave of guilt crashing over her as that exact morning replayed vividly in her mind.
“And the weekend we just shared… I asked you not to run because I couldn’t survive a repeat of what happened after the press tour.” Benedict tried desperately to keep the vibration out of his voice, but he failed miserably. “I even tried to ask you to stay. Granted, I fumbled it massively when I brought it up in Paris, but then you go on and told everyone in that interview that you will never live in London.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, his posture sagging under the weight of memories that clearly still carried a lethal sting.
“And when I saw that clip...” His voice broke completely, as he averted his eyes. The sheer humiliation of his jealousy making it impossible to look at her.
“Did you... did you actually consider moving to L.A.?”
“Of course not, Benedict!” she argued, stepping closer. “It was just a casual conversation we had in passing.”
“But did you actually tell him no?” he pushed, his green eyes burning into hers.
“I never took the suggestion seriously,” she insisted, her voice trembling.
“So I guess Asher didn’t get an outright no, then.” He shook his head, a sharp, humourless smile graced his lips. “I asked you to stay once, and you wouldn’t even entertain the idea, Y/N. And this weekend, when I specifically requested you not to run away from me anymore, I find out the very next morning that you’ve been discussing a future in Los Angeles?”
“You’re blowing this way out of proportion,” she pleaded, wiping at a stray tear. “Asher just suggested it for work, about getting more auditions and meeting casting directors. More opportunities, and all of that.”
“But didn’t I suggest the exact same thing in Paris?” Benedict countered, his voice cracking as his composure fractured entirely. “Do you remember what you did? Your immediate response was to shut down. You didn't say a single word to me for that entire car ride, or for the rest of the week.”
He let out a ragged breath, the sheer hopelessness of his posture breaking her heart. “So just to make sure we are clear on this... you would never stay in London for me, but you're fine discussing moving to L.A. with him?”
Benedict’s green eyes were glistening with unshed tears. The anger had completely drained out of him, leaving his features looking utterly, devastatingly heartbroken.
“I will always just be someone you constantly leave behind,” he whispered. “No matter how hard I try to keep up, or how many oceans I cross for you. Every single time, you make me feel as if I’m never enough. Tell me, how is that fair, love?”
His words shattered her into a million pieces. She buried her face in her hands, she couldn’t even bear to look at him anymore. The realization of how deeply he had been broken without her ever knowing was entirely paralyzing.
As tears fell freely down her face, the crushing truth became undeniable: she had been so consumed by her own anxieties that she had completely blinded herself to the fact that she was the one breaking him.
Benedict finally stepped forward, closing the final distance between them, and pulled her tight against his chest. Y/N gripped his shirt, overwhelmingly grateful to feel the steady warmth of his embrace once again.
Even just for a moment.
“I’m afraid I have reached my limit, love,” he whispered against her hair, his voice trembling with a quiet defeat.
She squeezed him tighter, shaking her head furiously where it was buried against his chest. She didn't dare look up. She couldn't bear to witness what his face looked like going, because the absolute finality that was undoubtedly written on his features was something she hadn’t prepared for at all. She never wanted to let him go.
“And I cannot bear to watch you shed another tear for me,” he murmured softly.
Y/N could feel the ending coming like a tidal wave. She wanted to physically put her hand over his mouth to stop him from saying the words, but a sickening dread told her it was already too late.
“No, don’t... please don’t do this,” she whispered into the fabric of his shirt.
“I want to keep things civil between us while we finish out the rest of this production,” Benedict murmured, withdrawing emotionally even as he held her. “And then we’ll have Bridgerton again. After that… we can just move on with our lives. We won't be bound to one another anymore, and we won't cause each other any more heartache.”
He tried to force a smile, despite feeling as though his heart were being ripped wide open from his chest. “I hope you find joy and love, Y/N. Wherever you decide to go.”
She felt the warmth of his lips press against her hair, then gently against her wet cheek, before he completely loosened his arms and let go of her.
Benedict looked at her one last time, a silent, final glance before stepping out and leaving her completely alone in his empty trailer.
Y/N physically couldn’t move from where she was standing, her limbs completely frozen. She stared blankly ahead, looking at something she couldn’t actually see through the blur of her vision.
It could’ve been minutes or maybe even hours that bled away in the quiet trailer, but after a lifetime of silently crying, she finally wiped her tears away.
If she had known this was how it was going to end, that the cost of finally knowing the answers to her questions was losing him forever… she never would have paid such a high price.
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