Chapter Text
Two Years Ago
“What?” Michaela’s mouth hovered right over her ear. Fran couldn’t figure out if she hadn’t heard her or hadn’t understood. To be fair, it was very loud in the corner of the disco that they were in. Fran looked to make sure Eloise was safe - and she was. She was dancing up a storm on the dance floor with John.
“Marry Me!” She asked…she thinks she asked. Did she just tell Michaela to marry her? Whatever, Michaela was used to Fran telling her what to do.
“Now? We’re at the club.” Michaela looked confused. Amused. Confused and amused. Fran flopped on her shoulder. Michaela would catch her. She felt an arm around her waist and rings on her side.
“I want to marry you.”
“One day, Love.”
“Now.”
Michaela sighed. “Baby…”
“Now, Michaela.” Fran stomped her foot. She was serious. Michaela had to see that. She was serious. This had to happen now.
“Fran.”
“Now!”
“Okay.” Michaela looked around. “Okay. Relax. Where is your sister?”
Fran squealed and kissed her face. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”
Now
Fran’s phone buzzed for the third time.
“Are you going to answer that?” Eloise asked.
“No. We’re having lunch.” Fran smiled at Pen and Colin. “And I haven’t seen these two in a year.”
Marriage looked good on Colin. He looked settled and like himself. He finally stopped slicking his hair back and seemed to lean into the dorky preppy look he liked.
Fran was happy not to see him pretending to be what he thought everyone wanted.
“Well, you’ve got us for a week,” Pen replied while Colin squeezed Fran’s hand.
“It’s probably Mum making sure we are still alive.”
“You didn’t call her this morning?” Fran asked.
“No. Did you?” Colin looked at her. She shook her head. So did Eloise. Fran doesn’t call Mum daily like Colin.
Or weekly, like Eloise.
They talk every other week on the phone. Fran still texts their mother, but something about talking with Violet Bridgerton made her want to be honest about how she felt. Fran currently didn’t want to unburden herself.
Her phone buzzed again.
“I’ll answer it,” Eloise said, picking her phone up off the table before stepping away.
Fran rolled her eyes. “Anyway, after Seoul, where did you go?”
“To see Sophie’s grandmother, which was weird because we ended up calling Soph constantly to translate, but she was very nice.” Colin declared.
“She sent us home with a whole duffel bag of stuff for Sophie,” Pen added.
“Oh,” Eloise said. “Fran.”
She held out her phone. Fran raised an eyebrow but took it. “Hello?”
“Hi, Is this Francesca Bridgerton?”
“Yes?” Fran looked at Eloise. She was chewing on her lip.
“Good. My name is Hazel. I’m calling from Raigmore Hospital regarding Michaela Stirling. I have you listed as her emergency contact.”
“Michaela?” Fran asked. Colin leaned in, but Fran waved him off.
“Yes, she has been admitted. Are you able-”
“Raigmore?”
“Yes.”
Fran nodded, standing up. Eloise was grabbing their bags. “Sorry. Yes. I’m on my way.”
Fran didn’t even know Michaela was in Scotland. They hadn’t talked in months. The last time she even got a message from Michaela was a response to her email that told Fran to do what she wanted with Michaela’s stuff.
Fran had just left it boxed in the guest room.
She knew that the only member of her family who still had contact with Michaela was Eloise, who was currently trying not to panic along with her.
Eloise never talked about what she and Michaela talked about, which Fran respected and hated. It had to be hard to be the go-between between them, but Eloise was her sister.
Fran rushed to the front desk with her siblings behind her. “Hi. I received a call about Michaela Stirling?”
The nurse looked up. “Name?”
“Francesca Bridgerton.”
The nurse typed on the computer. “Oh, right, the wife. Let me print you out a nametag.”
“Wife?” Colin and Pen asked.
Fran tried to answer before the nurse gave her a name tag. She slapped it on her sweatshirt.
“So, I just paged Hazel. She’s going to come and escort you to Michaela’s room. I’m not sure how she is doing. I think the doctor wants to talk about next steps.”
Fran nodded, trying not to panic. Wife? Why is she listed as Michaela’s wife? What is wrong with Michaela? Where is John? Helen? Janet?
A woman with red curly hair came up. “Hi. I’m Hazel. Are you Fran?”
Fran nodded.
“Good. Follow me. Is that family? Friends?”
“My brother, sister, and sister in law,” Fran muttered.
“Good, we’ll get them some visitor passes. Michaela asked us to call her mother once she regained consciousness, and she is on her way too.”
Fran nodded.
“Consciousness? What happened?” Eloise asked.
“A car accident. She’s…here we are.” They arrived at the ICU doors. “I’ll ask that you three sit out here while I take Fran back.”
“I…” Fran felt frozen. She felt Pen take her jacket while Eloise took her bag.
“We’ll be here, Fran,” Pen promised.
Fran sent a weak nod before following Hazel back.
“She’s been asking for you,” Hazel remarked. Probably to soothe the panic on Fran’s face. “The doctor isn’t too worried.” Fran nodded but wasn’t listening.
Wife? Michaela said she was her wife? Fran wanted to open her mouth and correct Hazel, but it was far too late for that.
And for some reason, her brain decided that going along with what was being said was the best way to operate.
They reached a closed door. Hazel smiled at her. The type of smile medical professionals constantly give. “Alright, here we are. The doctor should be in soon. She’s not terribly worried. Being in the ICU is a precaution until they can rule out surgery.”
“Surgery?” Fran asked.
“Yes. Heart surgery.”
Fran swallowed.
“She’s going to be okay. You should sit with her.” Hazel patted her arm.
“Thank you.”
“Of course. I’m just at that desk if you need me. I’ll send her mother in when she arrives.” Hazel pointed to her desk and left Fran to go inside.
Fran cracked the door open and saw Michaela hooked up to several monitors with her broken right leg in a cast, elevated from the ceiling.
Fran shut the door behind her. Here she was, alone with Michaela, for the first time in almost two years. She looked smaller than Fran remembered, but Michaela usually took up a lot of space in Fran’s head.
She was larger than life in that sense.
“Fran?”
Michaela’s small, tired voice broke her out of her spell. Her eyes were red, and she gave her a wave from the hand that had two finger splints.
“Hi.”
“They called you?” Fran wanted to smooth her eyebrows from their scrunched position.
“I’m your emergency contact.”
Michaela let out a confused hum.
Fran sighed. “You told them I was your wife?”
Michaela looked confused before looking at her leg. “What happened?”
“You were in a car accident.”
“Did I hurt anyone?”
“I don’t think so. I haven’t talked to the doctor yet.”
Fran pulled the visitor’s chair closer to the bed. “What do you remember?”
“I was…” Michaela huffed. “Sorry. Driving, right? It’s fuzzy.”
She pulled her thumb up to bite it, but Fran pulled her hand away. “Your mother is on his way.”
“She is?” Michaela looked sick at that.
Fran nodded. “Why is that a bad thing?”
“It’s not.”
Fran glared at Michaela. “Do not bullshit me, please.”
Michaela let out a painful sigh. “I am barely speaking to my family.”
“Not even John?”
“John and I haven’t spoken in months.”
Fran could not believe that. John and Michaela talked every day. They were a more codependent version of Eloise and Ben. Fran thought of them for a long time as John and Michaela.
“Why not?”
“We fought. I said some things I’m not proud of.” Michaela frowned. “You’re here.”
Fran swallowed back her curiosity. “I am.”
Michaela’s hand in hers felt clammy. Sweat dotted her forehead while weak eyes struggled to focus on her. Fran listened to her breathing, which sounded like she was struggling to get enough oxygen.
It was odd. Michaela rarely got sick, once nursing Fran back to health from a flu that everyone in their mutual and separate friend circles got but her.
Here, Michaela didn’t look well. It made Fran’s heart ache.
“Michaela, what’s wrong?”
“I’ve had a cold for a while.”
“Define a while.”
“A few weeks.”
“You didn’t go to the doctor?”
“No. I was driving …I think I just felt bad. I was trying to pull over. I know that.”
Fran nodded, grabbing Michaela’s wandering hand before it pulled at her IV.
“I’m sorry I dragged you out here.”
“It’s fine. I’ll clear up the wife thing and then we’ll put Helen down, okay?”
Michaela sluggishly nodded. She seemed to collapse into the pillow and deflate. She looked so tired. “I think it should be Aunt Janet.”
“Michaela.”
“She worries so much.”
“You never tell her anything.”
“That’s because she worries. I don’t want her to worry.”
Fran fought her desire to chastise her about that yet again. It was strange how Fran fell right back into their dynamic despite a year's pause in seeing each other. A knock on the door interrupted their solitude.
The door opened to show John and Helen standing there.
“Michaela Stirling!” Helen wailed.
Michaela let out a soft groan while Fran moved out of the way so Helen could hug Michaela. Michaela put up a perfunctory fight, but Fran could tell she was happy her mother was there.
“Your leg!” Helen yelled.
“Mama, I have a headache,” Michaela whispered.
“What have they said?” Helen looked at her. “Francesca, what have they said?”
Fran’s mouth flailed. “They haven’t seen us yet.”
Helen nodded before standing up. “I’m going to find that doctor.”
She left as quickly as she arrived. Fran looked at Michaela and John, who awkwardly looked at each other.
“Hi John,” Fran said.
John smiled. “Fran. So you two finally filed that wedding certificate, I see.”
Fran looked at Michaela, whose face fell.
Fran glared at her but played along. “Yep.”
“Well. Glad to hear you took my advice.” He said to Michaela. His tone was cooler than she had ever heard John use with her.
Michaela’s returning glare was odd, too.
What in the world had they fought about?
Helen’s return with the doctor eased the tension.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Marina Crane, Michaela’s cardiologist.”
“Cardiologist?” Michaela asked.
Dr. Crane nodded. “Yes. So, you had a bit of cardiac arrest.”
“A heart attack?” Helen asked.
Dr. Crane tilted her head. “Technically. Not from a blockage, but myocarditis. Nothing to panic about. We’re going to get you some meds to clear everything up.” Everyone in the room blinked in shock.
Dr. Crane smiled. “I am aware how shocking this is. I can give your wife some materials, and you all can go over it together?”
She looked at Fran. Fran nodded.
“Great, follow me. You too, Mum.”
Fran felt Helen’s arm twine with hers as they left the room.
They silently followed Dr. Crane to a family meeting room. Dr. Crane handed them each some pamphlets.
“I didn’t want Ms. Stirling to panic, but myocarditis is fairly serious.”
“A heart attack?” Helen whispered.
Dr. Crane nodded. “Does she have a high-stress job?”
“Yes,” Fran replied.
“I figured. She’ll have to take a sabbatical. Find a way to destress. Her heart, despite all of this, is strong. Yet, you will need to keep her calm. And comfortable.” She looked at Fran. “No work. Follow the diet in that pamphlet. Relaxing activities. That work sabbatical will have to be for at least six months.”
Fran nodded. “I see.”
“Thank you, Dr. Crane.” Helen breathed out.
“Of course.”
“I’m going to get her on those antibiotics, and we’ll get her well enough to go home.”
Dr. Crane left them in the room.
Helen looked at Fran. “So, you two put in the certificate.”
“Yes,” Fran whispered. She needed to get Michaela alone as soon as possible.
“Good. I’ve been telling her to tell you.” Helen nodded. “We shouldn’t leave those two alone for too long. Has she told you what the fight was about?”
“No,” Fran replied, relieved that she didn’t have to lie about that. “But I’ll try and find out.”
Helen nodded.
Fran didn’t get a moment alone with Michaela until two hours later. Helen, now satisfied that she knew what was going on with her daughter, was content with letting her nephew take her to the family loft that she would be staying in until she decided Michaela was well.
John had barely said two words, which was normal, but he looked like he was torn between his anger and his increasing worry about Michaela.
Fran joined him on that train.
The door shut behind them, and they were finally alone.
“What marriage certificate?” Fran hissed out.
Michaela, who seemed to finally put down the facade that she was fine for her family, seemed to wilt in bed. “How much do you remember about that trip to Amsterdam?”
Fran winced. That trip, when they had been dating for six months, was the wildest thing Fran had done. She took a random pill the first night and woke up the next day, dehydrated, with Michaela assuring her that she was fine. Michaela had been sober the whole time, according to Eloise, protecting Fran every moment of her adventure.
“What did I do?”
“You demanded we get married.” Michaela smiled. “I had to appease you before you started getting angrier.
Fran groaned. “So we got married.”
“I never filed. The venue did. I was going to tell you but…”
They broke up before she could. Fran nodded.
“But you mentioned it to your family?”
Michaela weakly nodded. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I can tell Mama you aren’t…”
“No,” Fran whispered. “You can’t go to the loft.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Stairs. Broken Leg. Your heart.” Fran replied.
Michaela winced. “I’ll figure it out.”
“We will.”
“Fran…”
Fran sat in the chair that had been next to Michaela’s bed all evening. “We’re married.”
Michaela nodded.
Fran resisted the urge to shake her wife. God, Fran had a wife. “I take marriage very seriously, Michaela.”
“I’m aware,” Michaela whispered.
Fran pushed down her worry even more. “So…we’ll just be married. Until you’re well.”
“John can…”
“Help. Like Helen but…I’ll be here too.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Michaela whispered.
“I know.”
Fran did know. She also didn’t know why she was doing this. It would be easier to tell the truth rather than lie to Michaela’s family. It was strange. They haven’t been in a room together in months.
“Why are you doing this?” Michaela asked.
That was the big question. When Fran thought about it…she only came to one conclusion.
“I feel like I should,” Fran whispered. “I don’t know why. It’s like…”
“We’re Fran and Michaela again.” Michaela finished.
Fran nodded. She looked at Michaela. She seemed to feel the same pull as well.
“So we’ll just be married for a while.” Fran decided.
“Just like that?”
“Yes.”
Michaela let out a weak chuckle. “I missed you.”
“You missed me telling you what to do?”
“Surprisingly, yes. I’m a mess.”
“You always have been.”
Michaela frowned. “Always gotta bring me down a peg, huh?”
Fran nodded. “At least two.”
Michaela’s eyes fluttered as she let out a weak laugh.
Fran perked up. “Are you falling asleep or feeling bad?”
“Falling asleep,” Michaela whispered. “I’m okay, Fran.”
Fran sighed. She was not, but Fran appreciated her brave face. She stood up, watching Michaela fall asleep before leaning over.
“Sweet dreams.” Fran snuck a kiss on Michaela’s eyebrows before stepping into the hallway. She pulled out her phone, surprised to see dozens of text messages and missed calls.
The top one was from Eloise.
Eloise
Call me first!
Worry filled her stomach as she called Eloise.
“Hey,” Eloise said. “Are you alone?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Colin called Mum.”
Fran felt the blood drain out of her face. Colin moved into the number 1 spot on her shit list. He somehow leapfrogged the woman who neglected to tell Fran they were married.
“Fran, say something,” Eloise begged.
“Is she coming?”
“They all are.”
“What?”
“I couldn’t stop it. You have about eight hours until everyone descends on you two.”
Fran walked toward the waiting room with dread. “Are you three still here?”
“Yes. Oh, I see you.”
Fran turned around to see Eloise and Pen sitting in the waiting room.
“How is she?” Eloise asked.
“Sleeping. She’s…fine considering.”
Eloise pulled her into a hug. Fran returned Pen’s small smile.
“Eloise has told me that…things aren’t what they seem,” Pen stated.
“No. We’re married.” Fran whispered.
“What?” Eloise responded.
“It’s a long story.”
The hospital doors opened, and Colin walked in with John. “Frannie!”
Fran waved.
Colin pulled her into a hug. She patted his back, fighting not to hurt him. “Is she okay?”
“She’s sleeping.”
“John was telling me you’ve been married for years. Why didn’t you tell us?” He pouted.
Fran glanced at John, who gave her an innocent look.
And just like that, John Stirling took Colin’s place.