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Anthony Bridgerton had rarely been nervous. But, tonight, he was practically shaking in his boots. He had no idea how she would react to his presence on her doorstep, especially completely out of the blue like this. But he had to try. He knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life if he didn’t.
Anthony lifted his fist to the door and knocked.
One Week Ago…
“Is the car downstairs?” Anthony barked to his temporary assistant, a shy, mousy thing fresh out of college. “I’m late.”
She stood and stuttered. “Yes… Mr. Bridgerton…. It’s… um…. parked at the curb. The driver is waiting.”
“Good,” he responded. “Call down and tell him I’m on my way.”
“Yes… sir,” she replied as the doors closed and the elevator lurched into motion.
When Anthony arrived downstairs, he barely registered the driver, who was holding the door open for him. He thought the man wasn’t his usual one, but beggars couldn’t be choosers this close to Christmas. Anthony stepped in the Towncar with a perfunctory nod and slid into the leather seat.
He was checking his email before the car even started moving.
~z~
There was no warning, just screeching tires, the crunch of metal, and blackness.
~z~
When Anthony woke up, it wasn’t to beeping machines, the smell of bleach, and incessant pain.
No.
It was in a soft, comfortable bed next to not one but two children he didn’t recognize. The boy on one side, about eight, reminded him of himself at that age while the girl on the other could have passed for the spitting image of Eloise when she was six. Anthony groaned and covered his face with his hands. Perhaps he was hallucinating? That was the only explanation he could think of since he had zero children, slept on a firmer mattress, and was not currently crushed beneath a car.
His noise woke the little girl, who stared at him curiously. Anthony, never one to back down from a challenge, stared right back at her until she broke and blinked. “Morning Daddy,” she chirped with a giggle. “Guess what?”
“Uhm… what?” Anthony asked, still back at daddy.
The little girl - his daughter, apparently - touched her little hand to his heart. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he replied rhetorically, not putting much thought into his response or the meaning she would take from it. So, he was surprised when she jumped up onto her knees on the mattress and threw herself over his body, hugging him tight.
Anthony, feeling a spark of something for the tyke but still steeped in unfamiliarity, patted her back and asked. “Is your… er… mommy… home?”
His question made the little girl frown. The frown turned into a pout and she started to cry, launching herself off of him and throwing herself onto the pillow beside him. “Well, now you did it,” he heard from the other side.
Anthony turned his head toward the voice. “What did I do?” he asked, distressed.
“You brought up mom,” the boy replied as if the answer were obvious.
“And that was a bad thing… why?”
His son - for who else could he be - sighed and said, “Ellie misses her when she’s gone so long.”
Anthony absently patted Ellie on the back as he shifted on his side to look at his son more fully. “Gone? Where is she?”
The boy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Her work trip.”
Work trip? That was utterly unhelpful. “Where is her trip?”
“Lots of places,” he answered.
“How long has she been gone?”
“Three months,” he replied. The boy reached out and put his hand on Anthony’s forehead. “Dad, are you okay? You’re being weird.”
Anthony cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably under the kid’s scrutiny. “And when will she be back?”
“Don’t you know?” his son challenged, lowering his hand from Anthony’s head.
“Of course I do,” he countered, covering. “I just wanted to see if you did.”
The kid rolled his eyes and replied, ”If you say so.”
~z~
Anthony didn’t find out any more information for another fifteen minutes, which is how long it took him to calm Ellie down. He convinced her to stop crying with a promise of pancakes and a call to her mom (if he could figure out who the hell she was).
When she sat up, planted a kiss on his forehead, and bounded off the bed to get dressed, Anthony followed. He circled the room to look for clues as to their mother’s identity and was halted by a wedding picture on the dresser between two closet doors. He couldn’t make out the woman from so far away, so he padded over to the piece of furniture and picked it up.
Anthony was shocked to find himself decked out in a tux kissing Penelope Featherington at an altar. She was wearing a rather flattering off-white lacy gown and had her hair up, but there was no mistaking her identity given her fiery red hair.
Anthony clutched the picture frame for dear life and muttered, “What the fuck?”
~z~
It took longer than Anthony would have liked to admit before he regained his faculties. The Penelope he knew was hung up on Colin - painfully so - for years. So, it was hard for him to imagine her marrying anyone but his brother, let alone starting a family with them. But to marry him? That was a stretch and a half. The two of them hadn’t shared more than pleasantries in the decade since she had befriended his sister.
What could possibly have happened to bring them together?!
~z~
Anthony decided the best way to find out how he ended up with Penelope was his daughter. She looked like Eloise and had her personality, too, so she was more likely to spill the beans than their son, who continued to eye him suspiciously when he arrived in the open concept living area dressed in Other Anthony’s clothes.
Anthony made his way to the kitchen in the surprisingly cozy craftsman-style home the family inhabited and found his daughter sitting at the island coloring while she waited for pancakes.
It was only after he arrived in the kitchen that he realized he didn’t know where anything was and immediately had to search around the room for the ingredients. Fortunately, everything was organized sensibly (aka just the way he would organize it), so it didn’t take him long to begin whipping up some batter. “You know what I would love, kiddo…” he hedged as he stirred.
“What?!” she asked brightly with a big smile on her face.
“For you to tell me the story of how your mom and I got together.”
Ellie wrinkled her nose. “Why would you need to hear that when you already know it?”
Anthony deliberately kept mixing to maintain a cool facade. “I do. But…. I love when you tell it. You do it better than anyone.”
Her smile widened until she was beaming at him. She put the cap back on her marker and leaned forward. “You saved mommy from a big, bad wolf.”
Anthony faked a gasp and bent closer to Ellie. “Really?” he asked dramatically.
Ellie nodded. “Uhm-hmm. He wanted mommy to come away with him and he threatened to huff and puff and blow Auntie P’s house down if she didn’t.”
Genuinely interested now, Anthony dropped all pretense of stirring and asked, “And what did I do to help mommy?”
Ellie waved her arms around the space. “You bought Auntie P’s house so that the wolf couldn’t make mommy go with him,” she described in a serious tone. “Then you beat up the wolf, gave mommy a big kiss, and moved into Auntie P’s house to protect them just in case the wolf came back.”
Anthony put the bowl on the counter and leaned on it with one elbow on his chin. “Then what happened?”
“You lived happily ever after,” she announced cheerfully, but then frowned petulantly and added, “Until Eddie came along and ruined it all.”
Anthony chuckled as Eddie, who was playing on his tablet in the next room, looked up and gave his sister an offended look. “And how did… Eddie… ruin everything?” Anthony asked, trying his son’s name out for the first time.
“He cried, like, all the time,” Ellie shared. “And mommy was always too sleepy to pay attention to you.”
“I wouldn’t say he ruined everything,” Anthony defended. “Mommy and I probably just needed some time to adjust to having him around.”
Anthony spoke to Ellie, but looked at Eddie in an attempt to reassure him. His son caught his eye and smiled faintly in acknowledgment before returning to whatever he was doing on his device.
“Your father needed a lot of time to adjust to no longer being the center of attention,” he heard a voice say behind him.
At the sound of her voice, the kids screamed, abandoned what they were doing, and ran toward her. Anthony whipped around to face the chaos of the kids’ reunion with their mother and smiled at the sight. They were both jumping at her screaming, “Mommy! You’re home.” Penelope, who looked impeccable in jeans, knee-high leather boots, and a tan peacoat with a plaid scarf, immediately kneeled down to greet them. She peppered them with hugs and kisses and murmured, “I missed you guys,” in their ear.
It surprised Anthony when Eddie clung to Penelope longer than Ella. “Guess what?” he said quietly when he had her full attention.
“What?” she asked attentively.
“I love you,” Eddie replied decisively.
Penelope melted at the words and cupped his cheek. “I love you, too, Doodlebug.”
The moment was so intimate - so full of love - that Anthony felt like he was intruding. There was a story behind that bond, he was certain, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get it without seeming like a complete lunatic.
Eddie was already suspicious of his behavior. But Penelope would probably wonder if he’d hit his head or something.
Did he hit his head? He had to have done so, didn’t he, to even be here? Wherever here was.
Anthony was so lost in his musings that he didn’t notice Penelope approach him. “Hey,” she greeted, stopping a foot in front of him. “You okay?”
“Hmm?” he asked, shaken out of his reverie. “Yeah. I’m fine. Why?”
She narrowed her eyes - blue - and examined him. (Had he known they were blue?) “You sure? Because you seem off.”
Anthony cleared his throat and gestured to the kids and the kitchen island, where his uncooked batter still sat. “It’s just been a… morning.”
Pen swiped a strand of copper hair behind her ear. She had it in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. The style combined with the clothes made her look more professional than he’d ever seen her. “Tell me about it,” she lamented as she unbuttoned her coat and pulled the scarf apart. “First, the airport was….”
Anthony worked his throat when the panels parted and revealed the creamy, porcelain skin of her chest and neck. His Penelope was always wearing hoodies or turtlenecks, determined to stay covered up as much as possible. He always assumed it was because she ran cold. But now he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more to it. She was dating someone new, wasn’t she? Was he the big bad wolf Ellie had spoken about? Had the boyfriend been abusing her, threatening, and blackmailing her right under his nose?
“You disappeared on me again,” this Penelope said, pulling him back to the present moment with a touch of her hand on his cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Anthony lifted his hand and covered hers. He pulled it off his face and entwined their fingers. “Never better,” he reassured. “Especially now that you’re home.”
Penelope squeezed his hand and beamed at him. She placed her free one on his t-shirt over his heart. “I missed you.”
He hadn’t missed her. Not really. How could he when he didn’t know she existed? So, he covered his inability to reply the way she would expect of her husband by lifting his free hand to the nape of her neck between her skin and her bun and bending down to kiss her.
Anthony had meant it to be a quick peck on the lips to say all the things he couldn’t say but that the gesture would; however, his wife had other ideas. She fisted the material of his shirt and yanked to pull him closer, deepening the kiss as she did so.
And rocked Anthony’s entire world in the process.
~z~
Anthony Bridgerton wasn’t a coward, but he knew when a strategic retreat was in order.
And one was definitely in order when your lips still tingled from a kiss you never expected to enjoy and your cock was hard as a rock as a result.
So, he said he needed a quick shower (preferably cold) and ran.
She was perplexed and a little hurt by the excuse, but couldn’t fight him on it because the kids started begging her to make their breakfast since they were starving and her pancakes were better than his.
~z~
Anthony closed the door to the master bedroom behind him with a thud and leaned against it. He rested his head against the cool wood and closed his eyes, breathing heavily and willing his hard-on to go away.
He wasn’t supposed to feel that way about Penelope.
He wasn’t supposed to feel any way about Penelope.
He was supposed to marry his fiancé in a week.
This was a fucking disaster.
Why didn’t he die in that crash?
Being dead would be preferable to this.
“Well, I can’t say that I’d agree with you there son.”
What the fuck?!
Anthony’s eyes sprung open to see his father sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. He blinked a few times, but the image didn’t dissipate. “Dad?!?!”
“In the flesh,” he replied, standing. “At least for now anyway.”
Anthony stood frozen against the door, afraid to move, lest his father disappear.
Oh, God. He really was losing his mind.
This couldn’t be happening.
Edmund approached him the way a stranger approaches a skittish dog. He held up his hands in surrender and said, “You’re not losing your mind. This is happening. I’m just here to chat.”
“About what?” Anthony asked warily.
Edmund stopped two feet in front of him and laid a hand on his shoulder. Anthony jumped at the initial contact, mostly because it was so unexpected.
Edmund chuckled. “This is pretty unbelievable for me, too. But you needed a wake-up call, son, and they thought I’d be the best person to do it.”
“They?” he echoed.
Edmund shrugged and looked heavenward. “They. He. Does it even matter?” he asked rhetorically. “The point is you’re heading down a path that has a lot of people worried about you, including me. And you need to take some time to reflect on whether it’s the right one.”
“Does it even matter?” Anthony parroted sarcastically. “My life hasn’t really been my own since you died,” he added, unable to keep the frustration from his voice.
His words made his father flinch. “You sacrificed a lot for me. For the family. But you don’t have to continue doing so. Your brothers and sisters are all adults now.”
Anthony laughed mirthlessly. “You think that makes a difference?!” He shrugged Edmund’s hand off his shoulder and crossed his arms defensively. “Colin doesn’t know the meaning of the word work; Eloise wants to save the planet, but not actually have to put in effort; and, Benedict can’t make a living on his art, despite what he claims.” Anthony scoffed. “They need me to keep them afloat so they can live their dreams.”
His father reeled back as if slapped, shocked by the vehemence in his tone. “Hyacinth is going to Yale, Gregory is at Harvard, and Francesca is studying abroad at Oxford. The only one who doesn’t rely on me is Daphne, but that’s only because she’s Simon’s problem now.”
“Simon’s problem?” Edmund parroted. “Is that really how you think about your siblings? As problems to solve?”
Anthony pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “That didn’t come out right. I love my family. I do. It’s just a lot of responsibility, even now.”
“Responsibility you never asked for,” his father concluded. “Right?”
Anthony dropped his hand and held it out while his elbow rested on his arm. “Honestly… yeah. I wanted to follow in your footsteps, dad, you know that. But not that soon.” Anthony stepped away from the door and walked to the bed. He sat down on it and sighed. “Mom was a mess after you were gone and someone had to step up and I was the only one in the position to do it.”
Edmund followed him and kneeled down. He put a hand on his knee and said. “But now you’re not. At least when it comes to the company, Anthony. If you don’t want to run it anymore, then sell it.”
“Sell it?” Anthony gasped, startled. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. The company isn’t worth your happiness.”
“I am happy,” Anthony replied reflexively. Because he was. Most of the time. “I like being in charge.”
His father smirked. “I suspected as much. You always did enjoy telling others what to do.” Edmund squeezed his knee. “But then you need to accept that you like it and choose to run Bridgerton Corporation rather than lamenting about having to.”
“I see your point,” Anthony conceded.
“And stop cutting yourself off from joy in other areas of your life,” his father commanded. “Instead of doing what’s expected, try thinking outside the box and see what happens.”
“Outside the box, eh? Is that what you’re calling all of this?”
His father let go of him and rose. “All of this,” he stated, “is what you could have if you stopped managing your personal life the same way you do the company.” Edmund sat down next to him and bumped him on the shoulder. “You need someone who will challenge you but also support you unconditionally.”
“She does those things,” he defended.
“Does she? Really? If you decided to sell the company and go back to acting tomorrow, how would she react?”
“Probably not well,” Anthony admitted reluctantly. “But that’s fine because I’m not selling.”
His father put his arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “Well then you have nothing to worry about.”
~z~
His head was pounding and his body ached all over.
The beeping was incessant and the antiseptic smell nearly choked him when Anthony lost the fight to hold onto the threads of the dream he was having.
Was it a dream? It felt so real.
The weight of his father’s arm over his shoulders.
The softness of Penelope’s lips against his.
The tenderness of Ellie’s touch on his heart.
Anthony groaned, part from the pain and part from the loss of the temporary bliss he’d been experiencing. The noise must have gotten the attention of someone in the room because he heard rustling nearby.
He tried to crack his eyes open, but it hurt, so he croaked, “Hurts,” into the void.
The rustling got more pronounced. He heard a quiet, “Oh, thank God,” in a voice that seemed familiar before frantic footsteps crossed the room and faded.
~z~
“Where is she?” he asked his mother after the pain meds kicked in, who was sitting next to his bed holding his hand.
Violet clicked her tongue and ran her free hand through his hair to comfort him the way she did when he was a boy. “She’s at work, darling. She said she’d try to stop by tonight to check on you.”
Anthony closed his eyes and worked his throat, disappointed. He would never expect her to put her life on hold while he was unconscious, but was it too much to hope she’d prioritize him once he woke up?
Anthony turned his head in the opposite direction of his mother, toward the door, and sighed. Was he making a mistake marrying her? Was his father right?
Ironically, the moment Anthony opened his eyes, he realized that maybe he was. Because, there, in the doorway, stood Penelope. She was wearing a hoodie and joggers and looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Pen held a cup of coffee in one hand and had the other poised to knock on the frame.
A surprised, “Oh!” escaped her lips when she noticed him looking at her. “You’re still awake.”
Anthony blew out a breath. “I am.”
“May I come in?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
Penelope smiled and approached hesitantly. “I’m glad to see you’re on the mend,” she commented. “You had us worried.”
“Thanks,” he replied.
Pen patted the mattress next to his leg and then rounded the bed. Anthony followed her with his eyes and saw her stop by his mother. She held out the cup and said, “You need to eat.”
When Violet took the cup, Pen slid her hand into the pocket of her hoodie and pulled out something wrapped in paper. “They’re from the coffee shop down the street. I thought you could use a break from hospital food.”
His mom grinned at Penelope and let go of his hand to take the food. “Thank you, dear. I appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem. Plus, it got El out of the waiting room for a few minutes. She was driving Benedict mad with her incessant pacing.”
Violet sat the parcel on the bed and took Pen’s hand. “You’re a lifesaver, Penelope. Thank you.”
Penelope covered his mom’s hand with her other one. “You’re welcome.”
Anthony watched as the two women stared at each other with affection before Penelope pulled away. She cleared her throat. “Anyway. I need to take off. Auntie’s caregiver called to say she’s having a bad day.”
Violet let go and waved Penelope off. “Go check on Tunie. We can take it from here.”
“I’ll see you soon,” she promised his mother. Pen patted the mattress again, smiled at them both, and walked away.
When she was gone, Anthony turned to his mother. “How long has she been here?”
“The whole time.”
~z~
Anthony spent Christmas in the hospital. Fortunately, his injuries weren’t severe, but he did have a concussion, a broken arm, and a few sprained ribs from the accident.
Because of his situation, he wasn’t able to celebrate with the family, so he was happy when everyone stopped by to see him.
Everyone except her.
Her sister invited her for the holiday. Since he was in the hospital and it was her niece’s first Christmas, she chose to spend the day there instead.
“Your family can be a lot Anthony,” she’d said. “I would just feel more comfortable going to my sister’s this year since you won’t be there anyway.”
He hadn’t expected her to spend the day with his family.
He’d hoped she’d spend it with him.
~z~
“Knock, knock,” she said from the doorway.
Anthony turned his attention from the football game he was watching to Penelope with surprise. “Penelope? What are you doing here?”
She gestured to her elf costume and replied. “I was volunteering in the children’s wing and thought I’d drop by on my way home to check on you.” Penelope entered the room and held up a gift bag. “Merry Christmas, Anthony.”
He smiled and took the gift with his good arm. “What’s this?”
“Open it and find out,” she replied cheekily before plopping down in the chair next to the bed.
Curious, he sat the bag on his lap, steadied it with the fingers poking out of the cast, and reached inside. He was shocked to pull out a vintage Game Boy and a handful of games in a plastic baggie. “What…”
“I found the system at a flea market. It works perfectly. I thought you might enjoy playing it while you’re laid up here, so El helped me dig out your old games from your bedroom at your mom’s.”
“Why would you…” he asked, speechless.
Pen shrugged. “I remembered how much you used to love playing that thing until Gregory broke it.”
Anthony fingered the vintage game system reverently, not quite believing what he was seeing.
~z~
“Well, I should get going,” Pen announced from the chair.
Anthony’s head popped up from the game system on his lap. “Do you have to… ahem… go?” He put the games and the system back in the bag hurriedly and added. “You could… uh… stay,” he hedged. “If you want to.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, wary of the invitation, but replied. “Why not? I have some time.” Penelope gestured to the game on the TV. “So who’s winning?”
~z~
Anthony hated being an invalid, but happily rode in the wheelchair just to hasten his departure from the hospital. His fiancé was supposed to pick him up, but got delayed at work, so Benedict and Eloise came to get him on their way home from their weekly brunch.
“I just can’t believe she agreed to marry him,” Eloise huffed.
“Just because you don’t like him, El,” Benedict countered, “doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”
“No, Ben. There’s something fishy about this. I can tell.”
“What could possibly be fishy? The guy’s a bit entitled, but, otherwise, he dotes on her, even if he doesn’t get along with Petunia.”
“And that’s just it, Ben. She’d never marry anyone who didn’t love Tunie as much as she does. It just doesn’t make sense.”
Anthony listened to the conversation without saying anything, recalling Ellie’s story. Was whoever they were talking about Penelope’s big bad wolf?
He wasn’t exactly in the shape to ride up on a horse and rescue her, but his fingers still worked and his phone had the numbers of a lot of influential people.
He’d get to the bottom of this one way or another.
~z~
“You can’t be serious, Anthony,” she shrieked. “You’re quitting. Just like that?!”
“Yeah. Why not? The company is stable and the COO is more than capable of taking on my role until they find a permanent replacement.”
“What will you do?”
“I’ve been thinking of starting my own company,” he replied. “Real estate investments. Among other things.”
She scoffed. “Why would you take that risk when you have a company that already does that?” She paced the length of the room in front of the couch. “Think, Anthony. Jesus.”
“I have thought about it. A lot, actually,” he defended. “Bridgerton Corporation is my father’s company, not mine. I’m tired of defending my decisions to the board and the investors. I want to do my own thing. Create my own legacy to pass down to my kids.”
“Kids?” she echoed, stopping in her tracks. She turned to him. “Since when do you want children?”
“Since now, I guess,” he answered. He - they - hadn’t wanted kids. But interacting with Eddie and Ellie had changed his mind.
“Well, I don’t want them, Ant.” She sighed exasperatedly and stated, “Christmas was… a disaster. My sister was exhausted, the baby kept crying, and the house was an absolute mess.” She sat on the armchair next to him and leaned forward with her hands on her knees. “I love my niece. I do. But I like my life the way it is now.”
Anthony mimicked her position, except he put his good hand over hers on her knee. He squeezed it, probably for the last time, and said, “I don’t.”
~z~
He cited health concerns due to the accident as his reason for resigning, effective immediately.
His family had a cow over the news (appropriate, he thought, considering he was no longer going to be their cash cow). But, thankfully, that earth shattering revelation stole the spotlight from his broken engagement the day before their wedding.
His mother was the only one who seemed to care more about his broken engagement than the company changing leadership. However, most of her concern was related to canceling the wedding on such short notice rather than his emotional wellbeing.
But that was okay because, emotionally, he was better than he had been in years.
~z~
Present…
Penelope’s eyes widened in surprise when she answered the door to find him on the other side. “Anthony?” she asked, “What are you doing here?”
He gestured toward the inside of the house. “Do you have a minute?”
She glanced over her shoulder and cringed. “Sure, I guess, yeah.” She stepped aside so he could enter and said, “Sorry about the mess. It’s been a little hectic lately and I haven’t been able to keep up with the cleaning like I normally do.” Pen closed the door behind him and stepped around him to precede him to the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Tea?”
Anthony didn’t respond, though, because he was too busy processing the sight of her standing in their kitchen to think of a single coherent word.
Their kitchen was her kitchen.
Their house is her house.
Upon realizing that, Anthony automatically moved toward the hallway where the bedrooms were. Penelope was utterly confused and followed him, peppering him with questions about what the hell he thought he was doing.
But he wasn’t thinking. That was the problem.
He was reacting on autopilot.
Penelope tried to stop him before he walked through the open doorway to her bedroom, but it was no use.
He was determined to know whether her bedroom was their bedroom and was strangely satisfied to find out that it was one in the same, right down to the armchair his father had been sitting on.
In that moment, Anthony knew exactly what he needed to do to live the future he so desperately desired.
He turned around, used his good arm to grip her wrist, yanked her to him, and kissed her.
THE END