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The music was too loud.
It didn’t just echo, it pulsed through the crowded London club in relentless waves, vibrating up through Colin Bridgerton’s shoes and into his chest like a second heartbeat.
He hated it.
He hated this because she was here.
And she wasn’t his.
Colin stood near the edge of the raised lounge area, fingers wrapped loosely around a sweating glass of whisky, his eyes betraying him every few seconds as they drifted back to the dance floor.
Back to her.
Penelope Featherington.
She wore black tonight.
Not the safe florals and warm tones she had hidden behind for years, but something sinful and sexy. A black dress that clung softly to her curves and left her shoulders bare and remarkable cleavage on display, her copper hair falling in loose waves that shimmered under fractured neon light.
She looked gorgeous.
And happy.
In a way that made something inside Colin ache.
She was with her new boyfriend Callum. She laughed at something he said, her hand resting lightly on his arm, her face open and unguarded.
Colin swallowed.
He had never seen her like this.
Not ever.
“Alright,” Benedict’s voice cut in beside him. “I’ve let this go on long enough.”
Colin didn’t look at him. “Let what go on?”
“This,” Benedict gestured vaguely, drink in hand. “Whatever this is. This tragic, silent pining you’ve been doing for the last hour.”
Colin scoffed weakly. “You’re imagining things.”
Benedict hummed, deeply unconvinced.
Phillip Crane leaned casually against the railing beside them, Eloise tucked comfortably against his side. She was halfway through an animated story, gesturing with her drink as she spoke.
“…and I told him, obviously that’s not how climate modelling works, and he just stared at me like—”
She stopped mid-sentence.
Her eyes narrowed at Colin.
“You’re not listening.”
“I am,” Colin said automatically.
“You’re staring at Penelope.”
His grip tightened slightly on his glass.
Eloise followed his gaze.
Her expression shifted.
To understanding.
“Oh,” she said quietly.
Colin forced himself to look away. “She looks happy.”
The words tasted like defeat.
Eloise was quiet for a moment.
“Yes,” she said softly. “She does.”
He did not know why that hurt more.
He had imagined this night so differently.
When he boarded the plane back from São Paulo three weeks ago, his hands had trembled from anticipation.
He had spent a year running from a truth he had been too much of a coward to face.
Penelope was not simply his friend.
She was not simply familiar.
She was not simply someone he missed.
She was home.
He had been standing on a balcony when he realised, overlooking a city that stretched endlessly into the horizon, sunlight spilling across buildings like liquid gold, and all he could think was…
She should see this.
She would love this.
He had pictured her beside him, her eyes bright with curiosity, her voice warm with wonder.
And the thought had settled into his chest with devastating certainty.
None of it meant anything without her.
He had booked his flight home that same day.
And now she was dancing with someone else.
“Stop punishing yourself,” Benedict said quietly beside him.
Colin frowned. “I’m not.”
“You were away travelling,” Benedict said simply.
The truth of it landed heavy.
Colin had left.
He had told himself he needed adventure.
He had told himself he needed purpose.
But the truth was far simpler.
He had been afraid.
Afraid of the depth of what he felt.
Afraid of what it would mean if she did not feel the same.
And now he had his answer.
She had moved on.
Of course she had.
Why wouldn’t she?
He was the fool who had walked away.
On the dance floor, Callum leaned down, saying something into Penelope’s ear.
She smiled.
Colin felt it like a blade sliding between his ribs.
He forced himself to look elsewhere.
The club was packed. Bodies pressed together, laughter spilling freely, glasses clinking, lights flickering in disorienting bursts.
Everything felt distant.
Like he existed behind glass.
“Go talk to her,” Eloise said suddenly.
Colin stiffened. “No.”
“Colin—”
“She’s with him.”
Eloise’s jaw tightened.
Phillip’s hand settled gently on her arm, grounding.
“She’s still your friend,” Eloise said softly.
Friend.
The word felt like both gift and punishment.
“I can’t,” he admitted.
It was the first honest thing he had said all night.
Eloise watched him carefully.
Understanding flickered there again.
And sympathy.
It almost undid him.
*******
An hour passed.
Colin stayed where he was, nursing drinks he didn’t want, speaking only when spoken to.
Watching. Just watching.
Penelope danced.
She laughed.
She lived.
Without him.
He saw Callum’s hand drift lower on her waist.
Saw her lean into him.
Saw the easy intimacy between them.
His chest tightened.
He wondered if Callum knew how extraordinary she was.
If he knew how she remembered everything, every small detail anyone ever shared with her.
If he knew how kind she was.
How fiercely loyal.
How quietly brave.
If he knew how she loved.
Colin doubted he did.
Because if he did…
He would worship her.
Eventually, Colin couldn’t take it anymore.
He needed distance.
Anything that wasn’t watching her belong to someone else.
He slipped away from the group unnoticed, weaving through the crowd toward the bar.
The noise dulled slightly there.
He leaned forward, bracing his hands against the cool surface.
He closed his eyes briefly.
This had been a mistake.
Coming here.
Coming back.
Wanting something he no longer had any right to want.
He exhaled slowly.
He would let her go.
He would.
If she was happy, that was enough.
It had to be.
He opened his eyes.
And saw Callum approaching the bar beside him.
Callum’s mate Jake followed.
They did not notice Colin.
Colin remained still.
Callum leaned against the counter, smirking faintly.
“She’s nearly there,” he said.
Jake snorted. “Took you long enough.”
Callum picked up a drink, examining it.
“She’s always been obsessed with that Bridgerton bloke. Needed the right incentive.”
Colin’s stomach dropped.
Jake’s grin widened. “You sure she’ll—”
Callum’s smile turned ugly as he suddenly pulled out and waved a packet of pills.
“Let’s see if she puts out now.”
Everything inside Colin went cold.
And then it happened so quickly.
Callum blinked, startled.
As Penelope appeared beside them.
Smiling.
Trusting.
Unaware.
She reached for the drink.
Colin moved instinctively.
“No—”
But she had already taken it.
Already necked it and ran back to Eloise on the dance floor.
Callum smirked at Jake.
And Colin saw red.
“What did you do?” Colin demanded, fury barely contained.
Callum scoffed. “Relax.”
But Colin saw it.
The intent.
The violation.
And then just as he was about to lunge at Callum…
“Colin!”
Eloise’s voice cracked with fear.
He turned.
Penelope swayed.
Her glass slipped from her fingers.
Her knees buckled.
And Colin moved.
He caught her before she hit the ground.
Her body was warm and limp in his arms.
“Colin…” she whispered weakly.
His heart shattered.
“I’ve got you,” he said.
And nothing else mattered.
Colin had never known rage like this.
It burned within him.
Penelope’s weight sagged in his arms, her body pliant in a way that was deeply, viscerally wrong. Her head rested against his shoulder, curls tickling his throat as she struggled weakly to stay upright.
Her fingers clutched at his jacket.
“Colin…” she whispered again, her voice unfocused, thick.
His name on her lips nearly undid him.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured automatically, tightening his hold.
Behind him, the club continued like nothing had happened. Music. Laughter. Careless joy.
He lifted his head slowly.
Callum stood a few feet away, his expression caught between irritation and unease. Jake hovered beside him, the smug confidence from earlier faltering under Colin’s gaze.
Colin had always been easygoing.
Charming. Safe.
People trusted him.
They underestimated him.
That would not be their mistake again.
“What,” Colin said quietly, “did you put in her drink?”
Callum scoffed, but it sounded forced. “Nothing.”
Colin took one step forward, still holding Penelope effortlessly against his chest.
It was enough.
Callum straightened slightly, defensive.
“Don’t start acting dramatic,” he said. “She’s drunk.”
Colin’s voice dropped further.
“She had one drink.”
Callum opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Jake shifted beside him.
And Colin saw it.
Confirmation.
His jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.
“You think this is funny?” Colin asked.
Callum rolled his eyes. “She’s my girlfriend, maybe you should remember that.”
The word hit Colin like a physical blow.
Girlfriend.
As if that granted ownership.
As if that granted permission.
As if that justified betrayal.
Penelope stirred weakly in his arms, her face pressing closer into his chest like she was seeking shelter there instinctively.
Protectiveness surged through Colin with terrifying intensity.
“She trusted you,” Colin said.
Callum laughed.
Actually laughed.
“She’ll be fine. Might even thank me later.”
Colin moved before he could stop himself.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between them in two strides.
Callum froze.
Colin did not raise his voice.
That made it worse.
“If you ever come near her again,” Colin said, his tone calm and lethal, “I will make sure you regret it.”
Jake scoffed weakly. “You can’t threaten him—”
Colin’s gaze snapped to him.
Jake fell silent immediately.
Because Colin was not bluffing.
He had never been more serious about anything in his life.
Penelope whimpered softly, her fingers curling tighter into his shirt.
His attention snapped back to her instantly.
Her breathing was uneven.
Her body too warm.
Fear cut through his rage like ice water.
She needed help.
Not revenge.
He would always choose her.
Behind him, Benedict’s voice cut in, sharp and controlled.
“ Colin, I’ve already informed security.”
Colin didn’t look back. He knew his brother would have sorted this.
He didn’t loosen his hold on her.
Colin turned away from them.
They were no longer important.
Penelope was.
Her head lolled slightly as he adjusted his hold, one arm beneath her knees, the other secure around her back. She fit against him perfectly.
Small.
Precious.
His.
No.
Not his.
But safe with him.
“Colin…” she murmured weakly.
“I’m here darling,” he whispered.
Her lashes fluttered, unfocused.
She didn’t know what had happened.
Guilt twisted inside him.
He should have stayed.
Should have never left to go travelling.
Should have been here to protect her.
He would never make that mistake again.
He pushed through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances, the whispers, the stares. Nothing existed beyond the fragile weight in his arms.
Cool air hit his face as the club doors opened.
He barely noticed.
Phillip’s car was already pulling up to the curb to collect them.
Eloise stood beside it, pale and panicked.
“Oh my God—”
“She’s breathing,” Colin said immediately, his voice steady despite the storm inside him.
Eloise nodded rapidly, relief and fear mixing in her expression as she opened the back door.
Colin slid carefully into the back seat, never loosening his hold on Penelope.
Benedict climbed in beside him seconds later, his presence grounding.
Phillip moved quickly back into the driver’s seat.
The door shut.
And finally, finally, Colin allowed himself to breathe.
Penelope lay against him, her head tucked beneath his chin, her breath warm against his throat.
His hand rested protectively against her back, holding her close, anchoring her to him.
She was safe.
She was alive.
That was all that mattered.
The car pulled away from the curb.
And Colin did not let her go.
The car smelled faintly of leather and Phillip’s cologne.
Nothing like the chaos they had left behind.
Phillip pulled smoothly into traffic, his hands tight on the wheel, his knuckles pale under the streetlights as London blurred past in streaks of gold and red.
He glanced at them through the rearview mirror.
“What the fuck happened in there?”
Colin barely heard him.
Penelope shifted weakly against his chest, her head rolling slightly with the motion of the car. Her fingers were still tangled in the fabric of his shirt, gripping him like he was the only solid thing left in her world.
“I don’t know what he gave her,” Colin said quietly. “But he put something in her drink.”
Eloise swore viciously from the passenger seat.
“I knew that Callum was a fucking snake, what the fuck was he planning?”
Her voice broke on the last word.
Phillip’s jaw tightened.
In the back seat, Benedict leaned forward slightly, his expression grim.
“Just got a message, security detained both of them,” he said. “Police are on their way. They won’t be leaving tonight.”
Good.
It wasn’t enough.
Penelope made a soft sound.
Colin’s attention snapped instantly back to her.
Her lashes fluttered. Her gaze unfocused as she looked up at him, her pupils blown wide, glassy and vulnerable.
“Colin,” she whispered.
He swallowed.
“I’m here sweetheart.”
Her lips parted slightly.
She stared at him in wonder.
“You’re… very handsome.”
Colin blinked.
He wasn’t prepared for that.
“Pen,” he said gently, brushing a curl back from her damp forehead. “Stay with me.”
She hummed faintly.
“No,” she said dreamily. “You’re really handsome. It’s unfair.”
Eloise twisted in her seat, alarm flickering across her face as she realised Penelope was expressing some hidden truths that had never been exposed.
“She’s not making sense.”
Her skin was clammy now. Her breathing uneven.
Penelope reached up clumsily, her fingers brushing his jaw.
“You have very nice lips,” she murmured.
Colin froze.
Heat and horror and helpless affection tangled violently in his chest.
“Penelope,” he said softly.
“I love your face,” she continued, her voice slurred and honest in a way he had never heard before. “I always have.”
His heart stuttered painfully.
She frowned suddenly.
“The lights are too loud.”
She shifted again, her head pressing into his shoulder.
“I love you,” she whispered.
The words barely existed.
But they shattered him anyway.
His throat tightened.
She didn’t know what she was saying.
This wasn’t real.
It couldn’t be.
She whimpered softly.
“I feel strange.”
Her fingers tightened weakly in his shirt.
“I don’t like it.”
Fear slammed into him again, sharp and merciless.
“I know darling,” he said gently, pulling her closer. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”
Her eyes rolled slightly.
Her body slackened.
“Penelope?”
Her head lolled.
Her grip loosened.
Her entire weight went heavy in his arms.
Cold terror flooded his veins.
“Penelope.”
No response.
Her eyes fluttered strangely.
Her breathing hitched.
“Benedict,” Colin said sharply.
Penelope didn’t move.
Not even a little.
Her head rested lifelessly against his shoulder, her lips parted slightly, her chest rising too slowly beneath his arm. Her hand, which had been clutching him only seconds ago, slipped uselessly against his ribs.
“No,” Colin whispered.
He shifted her gently, cradling her face with trembling fingers.
“Pen. Penelope, look at me.”
Nothing.
Her lashes didn’t flutter.
She stopped saying his name.
She wasn’t with him.
Panic detonated in his chest.
“Penelope!” His voice cracked now, raw and breaking. “Stay with me darling. Stay with me.”
Eloise twisted violently in the front seat, her voice sharp with fear.
“What’s happening? Colin, what’s happening?!”
Phillip’s knuckles went white on the steering wheel.
“How far’s the hospital?” Benedict demanded.
“Seven minutes,” Phillip said tightly. “Maybe less.”
Seven minutes.
It sounded like a lifetime.
Colin pulled her closer instinctively, his hand stroking her hair, holding her upright, refusing to let her drift further away.
This felt wrong.
She was too fragile.
“I’m here,” he whispered desperately, his voice trembling against her temple. “You’re safe. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Pen.”
His heart was pounding so violently he thought it might tear itself apart.
He had just returned to her.
He could not lose her now.
Not like this.
Not before she knew how loved she was.
Her breathing stuttered again.
Too shallow.
Too weak.
Terror unlike anything he had ever known consumed him whole.
“Benedict,” he said again, sharper now.
Benedict moved instantly.
He grabbed Penelope’s handbag from where it had fallen beside them, emptying it quickly onto the seat.
Lipstick. Phone. Keys. Tissues.
“Sorry, darling,” Benedict murmured gently to her unconscious form.
Colin tightened his hold instinctively, supporting her upright as Benedict leaned in.
“What are you doing?” Eloise demanded, her voice sharp with panic.
“She needs to purge it,” Benedict said calmly. “Whatever’s in her stomach.”
Colin didn’t hesitate.
He shifted her carefully, holding her forward, supporting her head whilst holding back her hair.
Benedict pressed two fingers gently but firmly into the back of her throat.
For a moment—
Nothing.
Then her body convulsed.
She gagged weakly.
And then she threw up.
Colin held her through it, his hand steady on her back, murmuring softly.
“It’s alright. It’s alright.”
Her body trembled.
Another weak retch.
Then stillness.
Her breathing hitched.
Her lashes fluttered.
Slowly, painfully, she came back.
She blinked.
Confused.
Disoriented.
Her gaze lifted and found him.
And suddenly she started crying.
Just soft, broken tears sliding down her temples into her hair.
“I missed you,” she whispered.
The words destroyed him.
“I missed you so much.”
Her fingers curled weakly into his shirt again, clinging.
Colin closed his eyes briefly.
He hadn’t realized until that moment how much he had needed to hear that.
How much he had feared she hadn’t.
He brushed her hair back gently. Stroking her curls.
“I’m here,” he whispered.
Phillip barely had the car parked before Colin was moving.
He didn’t wait for instructions. Didn’t wait for anyone to open his door. He simply shifted Penelope more securely into his arms and stepped out into the cold night air, his entire focus narrowed to the fragile woman against his chest.
Her fingers were still gripping his shirt weakly, like even now some part of her refused to let him disappear again.
The automatic doors slid open.
Sterile air hit him immediately.
Phillip was already ahead of him, moving toward the front desk with purpose.
“We need help,” Phillip said firmly to the nurse on duty. “She’s been drugged. We don’t know with what. She’s conscious, but disoriented.”
The nurse’s expression shifted instantly from routine politeness to sharp, clinical focus.
“How long ago?”
“Less than an hour,” Phillip replied.
She nodded briskly and picked up the phone.
“We’ll get her into a bed immediately.”
Behind them, Eloise rushed to the reception desk, her hands shaking slightly as she grabbed the necessary paperwork.
“Penelope Featherington,” she said quickly. “She’s twenty-six. No known allergies. Please, just…please help her.”
“You’re doing the right thing bringing her in,” the receptionist assured her gently. “She’ll be prioritised.”
Colin barely heard any of it.
He stood in the middle of the waiting area, Penelope cradled against him, his arms firm and unyielding.
He hadn’t put her down once.
He couldn’t.
She stirred slightly, her cheek brushing his collarbone.
“Cold,” she murmured faintly.
He tightened his hold instinctively.
“I know sweetheart,” he whispered. “You’re safe.”
Benedict stepped beside him quietly.
For once, there was no teasing. No lightness.
Only steady presence.
Colin didn’t realize how visibly shaken he must look until Benedict’s hand settled briefly on his shoulder.
“You did good, bro,” Benedict said softly. “She’s going to be okay. I promise.”
Colin exhaled shakily.
He hadn’t noticed he’d been holding his breath.
Penelope shifted again, her lashes fluttering as she blinked up at them. Her gaze was clearer now, but still clouded with confusion.
“You gave us a fright, gorgeous girl,” Benedict said gently, offering her a small, reassuring smile.
Her brow furrowed faintly.
She looked around the bright hospital lobby like she didn’t recognize the world anymore.
Then she looked back at Colin.
And relaxed.
“Where’s Callum?” she asked weakly.
The name hit Colin like a punch to the ribs.
His entire body tensed.
Benedict saw it instantly and stepped in without hesitation.
“We’ll get you feeling better first,” Benedict said calmly. “We’ll catch you up on the night later, sweetheart.”
Penelope frowned slightly, she wanted to question it but had no energy.
But she was too tired. Too drained.
Her head fell back against Colin’s shoulder.
Trusting him completely.
Footsteps approached quickly.
A nurse with a wheelchair.
“We’ve got a bed ready for her.”
Colin didn’t move.
The idea of letting her go, even for a second, made something primal inside him recoil.
“She’ll be alright,” the nurse said gently, misinterpreting his hesitation. “We just need to get her to the ward.”
Penelope’s fingers tightened weakly in his shirt.
He looked down at her.
Her eyes were half-closed.
He leaned closer slightly.
“I’m right here,” he murmured.
Only then did he kneel carefully, lowering her into the wheelchair with infinite care, like she was made of glass.
Her hand never left his sleeve.
And he didn’t pull away.
The ward was quiet, voices low, footsteps soft, machines humming.
Colin stood just outside the room as two nurses and a doctor worked around Penelope’s bed.
Even though every instinct screamed at him to stay at her side.
She lay against the stark white sheets, her copper hair fanned across the pillow like spilled sunlight. A cannula was secured to her arm, a clear drip feeding steadily into her bloodstream. One of the nurses checked her pulse while the other adjusted the line.
The doctor spoke calmly, efficiently.
“We’re going to administer something to help flush the remaining contents of her stomach.”
Colin’s jaw tightened.
He hated how clinical it sounded.
Penelope stirred faintly as the medication entered her system.
Her brow furrowed.
A moment later, her body reacted.
She turned weakly to the side as one of the nurses supported her, holding a tray in place as she retched again.
Colin flinched instinctively.
Benedict’s hand rested briefly on his shoulder, grounding him.
“It’s good,” Benedict murmured quietly. “It means her body’s clearing it. She’ll be fine.”
Penelope trembled, she looked exhausted.
The nurse wiped her mouth gently afterward, murmuring reassurances.
“You’re alright, love. You’re safe.”
The doctor stepped away after a moment, removing his gloves.
He approached Colin, Eloise, Benedict and Phillip calmly.
“She’s stable,” he said. “You did the right thing bringing her in when you did.”
Colin swallowed. “What was it?”
The doctor hesitated only briefly.
“A common sedative used in drug-facilitated assaults.”
“It depresses the central nervous system,” the doctor continued. “Disorientation. Loss of motor control. Memory gaps. In higher doses, respiratory suppression.”
Colin’s stomach turned.
“She was lucky,” the doctor added plainly. “Very lucky.”
Colin looked back at her.
She didn’t look lucky.
She looked small and vulnerable.
******
The police arrived twenty minutes later.
Two officers asking to speak with whoever had brought her in.
Colin didn’t hesitate and stepped forward on behalf of their group. “I did.”
They led him a short distance down the corridor.
“Can you walk us through what happened tonight?”
Colin’s hands curled slightly at his sides as he spoke.
He told them everything.
The club, the drinks. Callum’s words and Jake’s presence.
Penelope collapsing, the car ride, the scare they had in the car when she stopped being responsive. Every detail. He left nothing out.
One of the officers spoke quietly into his radio as Colin finished.
There was a pause. Static.
A response crackled back.
The officer nodded slightly.
He looked back at Colin.
“Our team already has both individuals in custody.”
Colin nodded, he was glad to hear they were with the police but he was still upset.
“They were found in possession of controlled substances.”
The officer’s expression softened slightly.
“Your friend was very lucky, it would seem.”
Colin didn’t answer.
Lucky didn’t erase the image of Callum’s smirk.
Lucky didn’t erase the sound of Penelope’s voice, weak and confused.
Lucky didn’t erase what might have happened if he hadn’t been watching.
If he hadn’t come home.
If he had stayed in Brazil.
He pushed the thought away.
She was safe. He had to focus on that and be there for her.
When they were finally allowed back into her room, she was asleep, quietly resting.
She lay on her side, her breathing slow and steady, her face relaxed.
She looked impossibly peaceful. Like an angel.
Colin stood beside her bed.
Behind him, Eloise exhaled shakily.
“She looks better.”
Phillip wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Benedict leaned against the wall quietly.
They had all been holding themselves together for her.
Now that she was safe, the cracks were showing.
“We should let her rest,” Phillip said gently.
Eloise nodded reluctantly.
They turned to leave.
Colin didn’t move.
He couldn’t.
Eloise paused at the doorway.
She looked back at him.
Then she walked back, stopping beside him.
Her voice was quiet.
“It’s not my place to say, really.”
Colin glanced at her.
She hesitated only briefly.
“But what Pen said in the car about you…”
His chest tightened.
“…that’s all true.”
He froze.
Eloise held his gaze steadily.
“She would never have told you if she was aware.”
He couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t move.
“Do with that information what you will, bro.”
She softened slightly.
“She’s better off with you than anyone like Callum.”
Then she turned and left, Phillip and Benedict followed.
The door closed quietly behind them.
And Colin was alone with her.
He sat slowly beside her bed.
He reached out, then gently took her hand.
Her fingers were warm, she was precious.
He wasn’t going anywhere.
Not ever again.
******
When Penelope woke, the first thing she noticed was warmth.
Not the scratchy hospital blankets. Not the faint antiseptic smell in the air. Not the quiet hum of machines monitoring her body.
Her hand was wrapped in something larger.
She blinked slowly, her lashes heavy.
Colin. He was there.
Slumped awkwardly in the chair beside her bed, his head resting against the mattress near her hip, his hand wrapped tightly around hers like he feared she might vanish if he loosened his grip even slightly.
He looked exhausted.
His hair was messy, falling over his forehead. His face softer in sleep, stripped of the tension and fear that had carved itself into him hours earlier.
He looked younger in sleep.
Like the boy who had once sat beside her in gardens and told her stories about places he dreamed of seeing.
Her chest tightened.
Carefully, gently, she lifted her free hand.
Her fingers hovered briefly over his hair.
Then she touched him.
She stroked her fingers through the dark strands at his temple. He stirred instantly.
His eyes opened, unfocused at first. Then they found her.
And everything in his face broke open.
Relief and emotion so raw it made her breath catch.
“Pen,” he whispered.
Her lips curved faintly.
“You came home.”
His fingers tightened around hers.
His voice was quiet, but steady.
“I’ll always come home to you, Pen.”
He sat up straighter now, his other hand coming up instinctively, brushing lightly against her arm like he needed to reassure himself she was really here.
She studied him, something in him had shifted.
“What happened?” she asked softly.
His jaw tightened.
Pain flickered across his face.
He didn’t let go of her hand.
“Callum,” he said quietly. That name tasted like poison. “He put something in your drink.”
Her brow furrowed faintly. Confusion, disbelief and hurt.
Colin swallowed hard.
His voice wavered despite his effort to steady it.
“I heard him,” he admitted. “I heard him talking. Laughing. Like you were…”
He stopped.
His hand trembled slightly in hers.
“He was going to take advantage of you,” Colin forced out. “He planned it.”
Penelope stared at him.
She felt sick from the betrayal.
Colin’s grip tightened instinctively as he saw the pain cross her face.
“He doesn’t get to touch you again,” Colin said, his voice low and fierce. “He doesn’t get to exist in your world. He’s in custody. He can’t hurt you.”
He hesitated.
Emotion flooded his expression.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
His voice broke slightly.
Because he had almost been too late.
Her thumb brushed weakly against his hand.
“I’m alright,” she whispered.
He shook his head faintly.
“No,” he said softly. “You almost weren’t.”
He looked at her like losing her would have ended him.
He stared at her hand in his.
Then back at her face.
His voice was quieter now.
More vulnerable than she had ever heard it.
“When I was in Brazil,” he said slowly, “I kept thinking something was wrong.”
She listened.
“I saw incredible things,” he continued. “Places I’d dreamed of my entire life. But none of it felt… complete.”
His thumb traced absent patterns against her skin.
“I thought I was searching for purpose.”
He met her eyes.
“I wasn’t.”
His voice softened.
“I was running. Running from the fact that the only place that’s ever felt like home… is wherever you are.”
Her breath caught.
“I tried to ignore it,” he admitted. “Tried to convince myself it was just familiarity. Comfort.”
His fingers tightened around hers.
“But last night—”
His voice broke completely now.
“When I saw you collapse…”
He stopped.
Swallowed.
Forced himself to continue.
“I’ve never been more afraid in my life.”
His eyes shone with unshed tears.
“I thought I was going to lose you before I ever told you the truth.”
She held her breath.
“I love you,” he said.
The words were raw.
“I have loved you longer than I even knew how to understand it.”
Her vision blurred.
He leaned closer unconsciously.
Like gravity itself pulled him toward her.
“You are not just my best friend,” he whispered. “You are not just someone I care about.”
His forehead hovered inches from hers.
“You are everything.”
Her heart shattered open inside her chest.
“I don’t want a life that doesn’t have you in it,” he continued. “I don’t want mornings where I don’t hear your voice. I don’t want years that you’re not part of.”
His voice trembled.
“I don’t want a world where you don’t exist beside me.”
A tear slipped down her temple.
“I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you are safe with me,” he said softly. “That you are cherished. That you are loved in the way you deserve.”
His thumb brushed her knuckles.
“You are my home, Penelope. And I never want to imagine my life without you again.”
Penelope didn’t realize she was crying until he reached up and caught one of her tears with his thumb.
She hadn’t even felt it fall.
She was staring at him like he’d just rewritten the laws of her universe.
Like he’d spoken something she had buried so deeply inside herself she’d stopped believing it could ever exist outside her own heart.
Her fingers tightened around his.
“You love me,” she whispered.
He didn’t hesitate.
“I do.”
Her lips trembled.
“I’ve loved you,” she said, her voice fragile but determined, “since I was eight years old.”
His breath caught.
She let out a shaky laugh through her tears.
“You probably don’t even remember. You came over with El, and you said hello to me like I actually mattered to you.”
Her fingers traced lightly over his knuckles.
“No one ever made me feel like that before.”
“You talked to me,” she continued. “You asked me questions. You listened. You didn’t see me as… invisible.”
Her voice cracked.
“You saw me.”
His throat tightened painfully.
“And I loved you for it,” she whispered.
She looked down at their hands.
“I loved you when you left for your first trip. And the second. And every one after that.”
Her chest rose and fell unevenly.
“You have no idea what it feels like to watch you walk away.”
He closed his eyes briefly, guilt slicing through him.
“It’s like losing the sun,” she admitted. “Everything goes colder. Quieter.”
Her fingers trembled in his.
“And when you came back and told me about the women you met…”
She swallowed hard.
“That broke me.”
His eyes snapped back to hers, horror filling them.
“Pen—”
“I smiled,” she said softly. “I always smiled. Because I wanted you to be happy.”
A tear slid down her cheek.
“But I hated them.”
Her honesty hung between them.
“I hated them because they were enough for you.”
Her voice broke completely now.
“And I never was.”
He shook his head immediately.
“You were always enough.”
She smiled sadly.
“I didn’t know that.”
She looked away briefly, ashamed.
“So I thought maybe… maybe if I tried to move on too…”
Her voice faltered.
“Callum liked me.”
The words sounded hollow now.
“I thought maybe if someone else could love me, I could stop loving you.”
Her eyes found his again.
“That was my mistake.”
Her fingers tightened around his hand.
“It was always you.”
He leaned closer without thinking.
Their faces inches apart now.
Close enough to feel each other’s breath.
His voice was barely more than a whisper.
“Can I kiss you?”
Her heart stuttered.
She smiled and nodded.
“Yes.”
He moved slowly.
Giving her time.
His hand rose gently to her cheek, warm and steady, his thumb brushing the tear-streaked softness of her skin.
Then his lips touched hers.
Soft, tentative and reverent.
The world stopped.
It was everything they had waited their entire lives to have.
Her fingers slid weakly into his hair as she kissed him back, her heart racing, warmth exploding through her chest like sunlight after endless winter.
He deepened it slightly, carefully, like he was afraid she might vanish if he moved too fast.
Sparks danced along her spine, her chest, her fingertips. He felt like home.
He always had.
A voice cut through the moment.
“You better keep this PG when I’m around, you two.”
Colin froze.
Penelope’s lips were still warm against his.
Her fingers were still tangled in his hair.
For a split second, neither of them moved.
Then they broke apart slowly, reluctantly.
Eloise stood in the doorway, arms folded, her expression triumphant and deeply emotional all at once.
Her eyes flicked between them.
“I leave you alone for five minutes,” she said, her voice thick with unshed tears, “and suddenly you’re a cliché.”
Penelope let out a breathless laugh she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Colin didn’t let go of her hand.
He refused to.
Behind Eloise, more figures began to fill the doorway.
Benedict entered first, carrying far too many coffees, his grin immediate and knowing.
“Well,” he said casually, leaning against the wall, “it’s about bloody time.”
Phillip followed beside him, steady and warm, offering Penelope a gentle smile.
“You scared us Pen,” he said simply.
And then Violet Bridgerton appeared.
She held a bouquet of soft pink flowers, her expression already crumbling with emotion before she’d even reached the bed.
Behind her came Anthony and Kate, Daphne and Simon, Francesca, Gregory, and Hyacinth, all crowding into the room in varying degrees of worry, relief, and protective fury.
Penelope blinked, overwhelmed.
“You’re all here,” she whispered.
“Of course we are,” Hyacinth said immediately, stepping forward. “You’re family.”
Violet crossed the room quickly and set the flowers down before wrapping her arms carefully around Penelope.
“Oh, my darling girl,” Violet murmured, holding her gently. “You gave us such a fright when we heard what happened.”
Penelope leaned into her instinctively.
Violet pulled back just enough to cup her face, her eyes shining.
“But you’re alright now,” she said softly. “You’re safe.”
Her gaze flicked to Colin.
“And my son,” she said quietly, “was exactly where he needed to be.”
Penelope looked at him.
He had barely stopped looking at her.
Anthony cleared his throat from behind them, his expression thunderous.
“That absolute prick,” he muttered. “I swear to God, if the police don’t handle him and his little friend properly—”
“They will,” Phillip assured him calmly. “They were caught with enough on them to ensure serious charges.”
“Good…. I’ll ensure it,” Anthony said sharply.
Benedict snorted faintly. “Colin looked like he was two seconds from committing murder himself.”
Colin didn’t deny it.
He couldn’t.
“You carried her the entire route to hospital El said,” Gregory said to Colin.
Colin shrugged slightly, uncomfortable with the attention.
“Of course he did,” Hyacinth said matter-of-factly. “He’s always been in love with her.”
Colin blinked.
Penelope flushed.
Eloise smirked.
“Well,” Benedict said lightly, sipping his coffee, “at least now he’s finally admitted it.”
Violet reached out, taking Penelope’s hand and placing it deliberately back into Colin’s.
He tightened his grip instinctively.
“You two,” Violet said softly, her voice thick with emotion, “were always meant to find your way back to each other.”
Penelope’s throat tightened.
This was home.
Colin brushed his thumb gently across her knuckles.
She looked at him.
Really looked at him.
The man who had chosen her.
“I meant what I said,” he whispered, just for her.
“I know,” she whispered back.
For the first time in her life, she didn’t doubt it.
Around them, the room buzzed with warmth and noise…Hyacinth demanding details, Anthony pacing protectively, Benedict making dry commentary, Eloise watching them both with quiet satisfaction, Violet standing close like she’d been waiting for this moment for years. Her family was due to visit later that afternoon after receiving the news.
Colin lifted her hand gently to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her fingers.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
She smiled.
Because she finally believed him.
Two hearts that had spent a lifetime orbiting each other had finally stopped running.
Finally stopped waiting.
Finally, found their way home.