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The producer, Rae, counted down softly as the camera operators homed in on their subjects.
“Three… two… one.”
“Welcome to Scrolling with Friends, your favorite podcast for talking about the Reddits, TikToks, and assorted corners of the internet we’re all collectively doomscrolling,” Edwina said brightly. “I’m your host, Edwina Sharma, and joining me today on the loveseat are Colin Bridgerton and Penelope Featherington.”
The studio for Scrolling with Friends didn’t look like a studio at all, and that was entirely the point. Tucked behind a nondescript door and layers of soundproofing, the space had been styled to resemble a well-loved sitting room: warm, soft, and perhaps just a little overcommitted to coziness. A plush armchair anchored one side of the room, its cushions permanently shaped by Edwina’s posture, a microphone arcing toward her like a trusted confidant. Across from her, the two guest hosts sat on a small loveseat, compact enough to require closeness, but not so tight as to force it. Close enough to suggest intimacy, far enough to keep elbows from colliding.
A hand-knit throw blanket was draped casually over the back of the loveseat and two pouf-like ottomans rested on the floor in front, inviting fidgeting feet. The walls were a soft pink with a fuchsia neon sign glowing gently behind them, spelling Scrolling with Friends in looping script. When the microphones were live, the room hummed with a particular blend of comfort and anticipation, like a living room just before a good story was told, or a secret shared out loud for the first time.
“My good friend Penelope is a frequent Couch Commentator,” Edwina continued, gesturing fondly toward the loveseat, “and Colin is my brother-in-law squared…or whatever you call your sister’s brother-in-law. Or your brother-in-law’s brother.”
“I prefer bonus in-law,” Colin said smoothly.
“Yeah, he’s extra for sure,” Penelope quipped without missing a beat.
Colin smiled, attempting to look wounded. “Ganging up on me already? I see how it is.”
“Aww, you can take it.” Penelope reached up, lightly slapped his cheeks with both hands, then settled back against him, looping her arm around his bicep, snuggling comfortably into his side.
Edwina leaned toward the camera with a conspiratorial smile. “A reminder to our Scrolling Friends watching the video: though they look like a couple – newlyweds, even – they’re just friends.”
“Best friends,” Colin and Penelope said in unison, both flushing immediately.
They were used to the misconception. Used to brushing it off. And yet, each of them wondered – quietly, privately – whether if one or both of them found the courage to have one deeply uncomfortable, painfully honest conversation, it might not be a misconception at all.
Edwina took in the sight of them, shaking her head. “Before we get to our first item, please tell everyone about yourselves, what you do. Better yet, Colin, please tell everyone about Penelope.”
Colin broke out in the biggest, slightly lopsided grin. “Penelope is a lifestyle reporter for Mayfair magazine. She’s working on a brilliant book series – think Jane Austen crossed with Agatha Christie. She’s an amazing baker – her peanut butter crumble is devastating, the best partner for pub trivia, loves reality dating shows and true crime, and is absolutely adorable when she’s embarrassed and a little angry, like right now.”
Penelope’s face was as pink as the neon sign in the background.
“Thanks, Colin. Now, Penelope, please tell us about Colin.”
Penelope turned so that she was facing both the camera and Colin.
“Mr. Bridgerton is a writer and explorer. He works for Hastings Hotels, scouting out locations for boutique resorts in exclusive and exotic places, finding the fun things to do, creating itineraries, restaurant recommendations, entertainment, and adventures. He can charm an empty room, and he has the biggest appetite I’ve ever witnessed but somehow manages to maintain rock-hard twelve-pack abs for the thirst traps on his social media.”
Colin shook his head. “I’m just posting locations, but if you like drooling over my abs…” He winked as Penelope was about to chastise him.
Edwina sighed theatrically. “Right. Let’s get started with an Am I the Arse Reddit post.”
“My favorite!” Colin enthused.
Edwina adjusted her tablet and then gasped audibly as she began to read.
“Am I the arse for telling my mum she cannot wear a white gown to my wedding when she insists it’s her last chance to feel beautiful?”
The set was silent for a full two seconds before the entire crew burst into laughter.
Edwina remained slack-jawed, her chocolate-brown eyes wide as saucers. Colin wiped at his denim-blue eyes. “Are you kidding me?”
Edwina recovered herself with a sigh. “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I mean, the idea of the mother of the bride wearing white is already cringe, but the reasoning…” She faltered. “The reasoning is so sad. It almost makes me want to tell the bride to just let her mum have her last chance,” she added, making air quotes.
Penelope said nothing, her expression carefully neutral after the initial laugh. That sounds like a Portia move, she thought. As much as her relationship with her mother had improved over the past few years – Portia had softened by doting on her sisters’ daughters, her first grandchildren, making her distracted at last from constantly criticizing Penelope – she could absolutely imagine her mother pulling something like this.
Colin glanced at Penelope and knew exactly where her thoughts had gone. He reached for the hand looped around his bicep and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s hear the rest. What’s this mum’s story?”
Edwina cleared her throat. “I, twenty-five-year-old female, am getting married in three months to my fiancé, a twenty-six-year-old male. My mum and I have had a difficult relationship my whole life. She never lets an opportunity to criticize me go by, and it’s intensified since I got engaged to my boyfriend of two years…”
Colin and Penelope groaned in perfect harmony. Colin slipped his arm fully around Penelope, drawing her closer, almost as if shielding her from the verbal barbs her own mother knew far too well how to throw.
Edwina continued reading, voice steady. “She comments on my weight, my hair, even insists her engagement ring is better than mine. She goes as far as saying that my wedding day is just as much about her as it is about me.”
“Yikes,” Colin muttered.
“…I thought she was just being hyperbolic until last week when she dramatically unzipped a garment bag to show me the dress she bought herself for the wedding…”
Edwina paused. “This is where it gets unhinged.”
“…The bridesmaids are wearing emerald green. I asked both mums to wear any other shade of green or a complementary color. Instead, she pulled out a full-length white gown, clearly bridal, with more lace and embellishment than my own dress. I immediately told her that she could not wear that gown to the wedding and that it would be inappropriate to wear any white gown to a wedding unless it’s part of the theme.”
“Like Ben’s wedding,” Colin interjected automatically.
Penelope tightened her grip on his arm. “Your brother and Sophie – yes. It was beautiful. Sophie had the bridesmaids in white tea-length dresses with silver trim, and her bridal gown was silver – long story related to how they met. His mum wore a simple, lovely white gown at their request. Completely intentional. Completely stunning.”
Edwina nodded. “Exactly. I remember. Not the case here.”
She scrolled. “…My mum cried, said this was her last chance to feel beautiful before getting old and that I am selfish for not letting her have this one thing for herself. I felt bad about it, but we were scheduled to go shopping for her gown a few days later and I offered to help her find a dress that is just as beautiful in another color. I would buy it for her. She went from weepy to furious and told me to leave. I left and talked to my fiancé and my friends, and they all agreed with me. When I tried to talk about it again, she said she won’t come to the wedding if she can’t wear the dress. My sister, whose wedding mum attended two years ago wearing a lovely indigo dress, is begging me to just let her wear the dress to avoid the drama. So, am I the arse for not letting her wear the dress?”
Colin exhaled sharply. “No. Absolutely not. Even I know wearing white to a wedding is unacceptable unless it’s the theme.”
“But,” Edwina mused, “what’s really going on here? Is she feeling invisible? Regretful? Midlife crisis?”
Penelope shook her head. “No. Sounds more like she’s controlling. Competitive. She wants attention and wants people to think she looks better than the bride.” Her voice softened. “I’d bet anything the mum fits traditional beauty standards and the OP doesn’t.” She couldn’t help thinking of her tall, svelte mother compared to her own short, curvy stature.
Colin tipped Penelope’s chin gently upward, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Even if that were true, no one outshines the bride. Especially not in the groom’s eyes.”
Penelope all but drowned in his warmth, the two of them momentarily lost in each other.
One of the camera operators sighed loudly.
Edwina rolled her eyes. “He’s right. And honestly? Guests would ridicule the mum for wearing white, either to her face or behind her back.”
“But what’s worse?” Colin asked. “The spectacle of her wearing it, or her not coming at all?”
“It’s blackmail,” Penelope said firmly. “And it won’t be the last ultimatum.”
Edwina nodded, scrolling. “Overwhelmingly, the comments say the OP is not the arse.”
Colin and Penelope nodded along.
“Some comments: If she offers not to come, take her up on it. If she is seeking attention, she’s not going to get it if she’s not there. Another wrote: If you give in now, next she’ll demand to cut the cord of your first baby.”
Colin gasped. “No one is cutting the cord except me or Pe-” He stopped abruptly. “…um. My wife.”
Penelope flushed, heart racing, body shivering. Just a slip, she told herself. Just because I’m sitting right next to him. He doesn’t think of beautiful babies with his chestnut curls and my sapphire eyes.
Edwina smirked. “Nice save. Another comment: Don’t give in. Tell her you’re worried that some guests will not even acknowledge how beautiful she looks in the white gown because they’ll think it’s inappropriate. She can wear a gorgeous, flattering dress in another color and people will be in awe.”
Colin, noticing Penelope’s shiver, reached behind her and pulled the blanket around her shoulders. “Couldn’t agree more,” he said quietly.
Edwina rolled her eyes fondly at the sweet tableau on the loveseat and nodded when Rae subtly signaled her to move along.
“Okay,” Edwina said, clapping her hands once. “Next up, we have another Reddit post. This one’s from the relationship advice subreddit.” She read the title silently, then slowly lifted her gaze toward Rae. Rae smiled back and shrugged, unapologetic.
“Oh. Oh dear,” Edwina said. “Here we go. I’m in love with my best friend and she’s moving away for medical school. Would it be wrong to ask her to stay?”
Colin and Penelope both straightened instinctively, as though someone had tugged invisible strings. Penelope pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders, her fingers curling into the knit.
This was close to home in far too many ways.
Penelope had been in love with Colin for more than a decade, quietly, carefully, with a patience that sometimes felt like penance. Colin, meanwhile, was only just beginning to realize that what he wanted with Penelope was not something that fit neatly into the category of best friends. And as if the universe had a sense of cruel timing, he had just been offered an extraordinary assignment, one that would take him away for nearly two years.
Edwina continued.
“Throwaway account because she’s on Reddit. I’m a twenty-seven-year-old man and I’ve been best friends with ‘Zoe’ – fake name – a twenty-six-year-old woman for about four years. We met in uni on my last night there. She was camped outside a flat in my building waiting for the guy who lived there – I’ll call him Nigel – to show up for their date. He was already two hours late. I invited her in, offered to keep the door open to prove I wasn’t a serial killer, and we ended up spending the entire evening and night together just talking.”
Penelope’s mouth twitched. How many times have she and Colin spent hours and hours just talking, either cuddled up together or on a phone or Zoom?
“Two years later, we ran into each other in New York not long after she moved there. She was stuck in a difficult relationship with Nigel of all people, where he kept their relationship so secretive, it almost seemed like she was his mistress. Turns out, he had a more open relationship with someone else and told Zoe they were getting engaged but still wanted to see her on the side. Meanwhile, I was a serial dater, never had more than a second date with anyone. So neither of us was interested in romance and we fell into a friendship. We’ve never dated each other. We spend a lot of time together – movie nights that turn into takeout and talking until 2 a.m. Long walks. Holidays together when one of us doesn’t have plans with family. Best friends. Everyone we meet assumes we’re a couple. We always laugh it off.”
As Edwina read, the story unfurled with painful familiarity. Colin shifted beside Penelope as the words everyone assumes we’re a couple were read aloud, his arm tightening around her without either of them acknowledging it.
“About a year ago, it became…harder to ignore,” Edwina read. “The emotional intimacy crossed a line we never named…”
Penelope stared straight ahead, jaw tight. She knew that line. She had lived on the edge of it for years.
“There were moments – long looks, almost kisses, conversations that felt heavier than friendship – but every time it felt like one of us might say something, the other would pull back. I think we were both scared of ruining what we had.”
Colin shifted, understanding that fear so well. He could never risk ruining the friendship, Taylor Swift be damned.
I’ve known Zoe wanted to go to medical school since the night I met her. She had put it off because her mother had a health problem that required Zoe to be available. She’s been teaching science at an elementary school since she graduated and finally, with my encouragement, took the leap of applying to medical schools. She got into a school in Michigan, halfway across the country. She leaves in two weeks.”
Penelope swallowed. Colin’s chest felt too tight to breathe properly.
Edwina continued, voice steady, letting the story do its work.
“A few weeks ago, we both had an emotional night. Zoe had run into Nigel with his now-wife. His pregnant wife. I’d been on a date with Lana, a woman who had been flirting with me for months and who Zoe had been pushing me to date. The date had gone well until when we were kissing, I accidentally called her Zoe. Lana couldn’t have been sweeter, asking if I wanted to talk about it. I ended up sharing everything – my feelings for Zoe, my worries about her leaving.”
Colin blushed thinking about that time years ago when he accidentally called Marina Penelope. Marina was furious, and in trying to make it up to her, he allowed himself to be pulled deeper into her toxicity for far too long before he broke up with her. His only real relationship.
“I came home to find Zoe waiting for me on my stoop, tears running down her face. We went inside and held each other like we often do. Then, staring into her eyes, I asked the question that had been hanging over us for years: Are we in love?”
Colin and Penelope both inhaled sharply.
They did not look at each other.
Edwina paused for just a fraction of a second before continuing, her eyes flicking between them.
“Zoe didn’t hesitate. She said yes. I said yes. And then…nothing.”
Penelope’s heart pounded so loudly she was sure the microphones could hear it.
“We didn’t kiss. We didn’t sleep together. We just sat there, both not knowing what to do. Medical school was her dream. The business that I own and run is based in New York. We agreed we shouldn’t start something we couldn’t see through. We agreed to keep things the same.”
Colin whimpered softly. This would likely be his and Penelope’s path, too.
“Except now everything is different. Every time I think about her leaving, it feels like I’m already grieving. I don’t know if it’s more selfish to ask her to consider staying and applying to more schools in the area, or more cowardly to let her go without telling her I’d fight for her if she wanted me to. So here’s my question, and I apologize for how long and detailed this post is: It is ever okay to ask someone you love not to move for their dream? Or does loving her mean letting her go, even if it breaks both of us? I don’t want to ruin her future. I also don’t know how to live with the idea that we might be the great love story that never happened because neither of us was brave enough.”
Penelope let out the breath she’d been holding only when Edwina reached the end of the post. Colin shifted restlessly beside her, fingers flexing as if he wanted to say something and didn’t know how.
“Wow,” Edwina breathed.
Penelope shook her head, words tumbling out too quickly. “Absolutely not. He can’t ask her to stay. She’d resent him eventually. What if she doesn’t get into another school? What if she gives up her dream?”
Colin turned fully toward her. “I think he has to talk to her. Openly. No pressure, just honesty. She deserves to know he wants everything with her. That he’s willing to be flexible, to find a way. She might be waiting for him to say it to give herself permission to stay.”
Penelope blinked. Maybe that wasn’t just opinion, maybe it was a confession, barely disguised.
Colin’s thoughts drifted unbidden to the assignment waiting for him. After graduating from university, Colin looked for ways to monetize his wanderlust and get his eldest brother, Anthony, off his back. He’d taken a gap year before starting university, traveling to dozens of countries over three continents. He traveled every summer, most of his winter break, and as many long weekends as possible all through university. He’d studied anthropology and writing and had created rather successful YouTube and social media channels. Simon, his brother-in-law, had been expanding his hotel business to include bespoke hotels and resorts. He created a job for Colin and valued his contributions, appeasing Anthony in the aftermath.
Many countries in the Middle East were slowly opening up to tourism. Simon saw an opportunity, and he and Colin worked with the governments of Saudi Arabia, Oman, Kuwait, Bahrain, and Jordan to explore opportunities for resorts and destinations. All had natural formations, historic attractions, gorgeous islands, and unique experiences. Simon was sending Colin to these countries for close to two years. He could shape tourism in the vast area.
As much as Colin loved this idea, he hated having to be away from his family and Penelope for so long. He wouldn’t be able to come back to the UK as often as he usually does – a few weeks at a time. By the time he returned, she might be married – she nearly married Alfalfa or whatever the vegan penguin guy was called. He’d lose her forever.
Edwina, ever perceptive, cut in gently. “There’s a difference between asking her to stay and asking her to work with him to find a way forward. Telling her how he feels isn’t wrong as long as he doesn’t pressure her.”
Penelope felt herself folding inward. Even asking is pressure, she thought. If Colin didn’t want to go, he’d say so. Wouldn’t he?
She exhaled. “Even asking her would likely feel like pressure on her.”
Edwina scrolled through the comments. “The advice is mixed. They make the same points that we just did, and a common theme is being honest. Like this one: Tell her what you’re thinking. Ask her if it could possibly fit in her plan to defer for a year to apply to more schools. Even if she decides to go to Michigan, letting her know how much you love her is a gift she’ll carry forever.”
Colin and Penelope both looked as though they might speak but Rae gestured again.
“Oh, there’s an update,” Edwina said. “And it’s…well... UPDATE: I invited Zoe over for that crucial conversation, but Zoe was so excited about medical school and the Zoom meeting she'd just had with the women that will be in her shared apartment, and moving away to a new place where she could reinvent herself. She kept asking me about Lana, pushing me to try to make that relationship work. Lana and I had continued to see each other, but just as friends. So, I helped Zoe move to Michigan and after I got her settled into her apartment, she asked me to give her space. I had to promise not to reach out to her in any way until she comes back to New York for Thanksgiving. Three months. I don’t know how I’m going to make it. It’s been a week and I feel like I’ve lost a limb and half my mind. Lana has been wonderful. She wants to date for real and wants me to get to know her five-year-old son.”
Edwina looked up. “Oh, that’s rough. I don’t know where to start.”
Colin’s arm tightened around Penelope, his fingers absentmindedly twirling one of her curls and letting it spring back.
He was first to speak. “I know a little of how he feels about giving space. There was a time when I said something…horrible…and Pen heard it. I didn’t mean it, still don’t know why I said it, but Pen ghosted me for two weeks. I finally cornered her and begged her to tell me what was wrong. She accepted my apology but asked me to give her space. She started spending time with other friends, dating more, and we texted maybe once a week.” He looked positively forlorn.
Edwina looked at the two of them with sympathy. “You did say a dumbass thing. I’d say I’m sorry you went through it, but that’s when Penelope and I got closer, so…silver lining.”
Penelope brought Colin’s hand to her cheek. “It hurt me as much as it hurt you, Col. But it was good for me, at least for a little while. We didn’t make it a full month before we were back to reaching out daily. We just got a little more balance in our friendship.”
Until this last year when they were basically inseparable whenever he was in town and started and ended every day they were apart with some sort of messaging.
Edwina looked at the camera. “So, do we think they made it the whole three months?”
Colin answered, “No way. I say one of them caved after a month.”
Penelope’s eyes were downcast. “My guess is that he fell in love with Lana and that was that.”
Edwina smiled. “Well, let’s find out, because there’s another update!”
Colin and Penelope held onto each other, eyes wide, hoping for…something good?
“Second update. It’s a long one, six months after the previous update,” Edwina smirked. “UPDATE: So many people have been asking for an update. Well, I honored Zoe’s wishes and kept my distance, throwing myself into the relationship with Lana, getting to know and adore her son. Lana was lovely and sweet and very attentive – a perfect girlfriend. One morning, Lana and I were out to brunch to celebrate two months of dating. I noticed a couple at a nearby table and realized it was Nigel with his very pregnant wife. Somehow seeing him and thinking of how much he hurt Zoe, how he was part of the reason Zoe didn’t believe she could ever have a long-term relationship…I snapped. I stomped over to his table and yelled at him, using all my strength not to punch him. Lana pulled me outside as the owner of the restaurant was walking over to me, no doubt to throw me out.
Lana was furious. She pointed out that I kept referring to Zoe as ‘my Zoe’ or ‘my girl’ and said that she was tired of being a placeholder or at least a poor substitute for the woman I love. She was right.
By the end of the week, I’d begun the process of selling my company to a group that had been pushing me to let them buy it for more than a year. I stayed on as an advisor, able to work remotely. It turned out not to be a major sacrifice, as I opened myself up to building something new.
I broke my promise to Zoe, calling her two weeks early. She answered immediately, missing me as much as I missed her. We talked it out when she visited for Thanksgiving and got married days later, just before I followed her back to Michigan, setting up a life out there and minimizing my life in New York. It’s not as crazy as it seems – we’ve known each other and have been in love with each other for longer than most people are when they marry. We celebrated Christmas with both our families and toasted the New Year as husband and wife. We’ve never been happier and the future feels brighter than ever.”
Edwina looked at the screen a moment. “Amazing.” She saw Rae’s signal to wrap it up.
“We’re almost out of time. What did we learn here? For me, it’s that if you love someone, tell them. Be honest about what you want and accept that you might not be able to have it all.”
Penelope’s voice was quiet but certain. “True love is as rare as close friendship.”
Colin smiled at her, something open and unguarded in his expression. “As my best friend Pen once told me, if one finds themselves in love, they should never apologize for it but rather declare it assuredly. Fervently. Loudly.”
Edwina winked at the camera. “And that is why Penelope is one of the wisest people I know.”
She wrapped it up smoothly. “That’s all for today. Join me next week when Hyacinth and Gregory Bridgerton review the best new TikTok dances. Thanks to my Couch Commentators, Colin and Penelope. And until then, keep scrolling.”
“And we’re out. Great show, everyone!” Rae enthused, clearly pleased with how smoothly the recording had gone.
Colin and Penelope exchanged a quick, questioning glance, but before either could speak, a member of the crew swooped in to collect the microphones clipped to their collars.
Edwina set her tablet aside and turned her chair toward them. “Thank you, my lovelies. And I’m sorry if today’s topics hit a bit close to home – I swear I didn’t pick them. But you were both wonderful. As always.”
Penelope leaned in to hug her. “You know how much I love being on your show. You were brilliant.”
Colin opened his arms next. “I’ve got a reservation at Positano’s in twenty minutes. Want to ride with us?”
Edwina’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and sighed. “Gen just lost one of her guest hosts and needs me to sub in. Rain check. I’ll see the two of you and the rest of the Bridgertons tonight at the pub for trivia?”
“Definitely,” Colin said.
Penelope nodded, doing her best to hide her relief. Edwina was being gracious now, but the second they were alone she would absolutely interrogate them about the Zoe/OP story compared to the Penelope/Colin story. Penelope briefly considered inventing a sudden illness to avoid lunch – and possibly the rest of the day – with Colin.
Colin, ever attentive, held up her coat. She slipped into it, grateful for the familiar gentleness of the gesture.
“I’m not sure I’m up for a restaurant, Col,” she began. “Maybe we should…”
“Same,” he cut in quickly. “Let’s cancel the table, put in a takeaway order, and pick it up on the way to your flat.”
Penelope nodded. So much for distance.
In the car, Colin put on a playlist clearly designed for singalongs and avoidance. By the time they collected their food and climbed the stairs to Penelope’s flat, they were laughing hard, mostly at Colin mangling the lyrics to Espresso yet again.
“I still cannot believe you’ve been singing that wrong for over a year,” Penelope said, fishing through her purse for her key. “I’m working late ’cause I’m a sinner? What did you think she did for a living?”
“I don’t know,” Colin said, cheeks pink. “It made sense.”
“Of course it did,” Penelope teased. “Very on-brand for you.”
They ate at the kitchen table, knees bumping, trading bites, the easy domesticity settling over them like a habit they’d always had. Afterward, Colin stretched, yawning extravagantly. Penelope laughed, then found herself yawning, too.
She pointed at him accusingly. “Stop that. You know it’s contagious.”
Colin grinned and offered his hand. “I think it’s time for a Polin Pause.”
“Polin is unfair – it’s mostly your name,” Penelope said, batting his hand away. “It should be Penelin. And no, I do not need a power nap.”
“Take it up with Hyacinth,” he said solemnly. “She named us. We have a long night ahead of us, so a Polin Pause it is!”
Before Penelope could protest further, Colin scooped her up with ease and carried her down the hall, depositing her gently on the bed. He removed her shoes with care, setting them beside his own, clearly amused by the size difference, then lay beside her and wrapped his arms around her. She settled against his chest without thinking, her head fitting there like it always had. He tugged the blanket over them.
Colin’s mind drifted back to the Reddit post. It’s a gift to let her know how much you love her. It’s something she’ll always carry with her.
He shifted, guiding her so they faced each other, noses nearly brushing. He took her hands, grounding himself.
“Are we in love?” he asked softly.
Penelope didn’t look away. Her heart thundered. Be brave.
“Yes,” she said. “At least I am.”
Relief and joy surged through him. “I know I am.”
Her eyes flicked to his lips.
“May I kiss you?” he whispered.
She nodded, and when they kissed, it was slow and reverent, like something long-denied finally being allowed. His mouth was warm and gentle, lingering, learning her. Penelope sighed into it, her hands sliding up his arms, memorizing him in a new way. It was nothing short of glorious.
“I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” Colin said quietly when they parted. “Longer than I understood, even if I didn’t put a name to it until a few months ago.”
Penelope laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his nose. “I’ve loved you for an embarrassingly long time. You were special to me even as a boy. Once I knew what love was, it was always you.”
Colin cupped her cheek and kissed her reverently. “I’ll spend a lifetime making up for lost time,” he vowed.
Penelope shook her head. “We needed this time,” she said. “To grow up and grow together.”
When he leaned in again, she stopped him gently. “Colin…what about your assignment?”
“Ask me to stay,” he said without hesitation. “I will.”
“No,” she said firmly, though her eyes shone. “Your assignment is groundbreaking. You and Simon have been working toward this for a long time. We can do long distance. We’ve done worse.”
He pouted. She stifled a laugh at how much it made him look like the 10-year-old boy she’d first met and loved in an innocent way, and kissed it away.
“But Pen, I cannot…will not…do not want to be away from you.”
Penelope rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling as if the answer might be written there. Colin followed her movement, turning with her, reaching out until their fingers threaded together.
“Colin,” she said carefully, “we are two smart people. Surely we can figure out a way to make this work. I mean…if you want that.”
He tightened his grip on her hand. “Of course I want that.” A beat. “Zoe and the OP found a compromise.”
Penelope huffed softly. “The OP – we need to give him a name. Oliver.” She smiled faintly. “Oliver sold his business. He made the sacrifice.”
She rolled toward him then, bringing their joined hands to her lips, pressing a lingering kiss there, gratitude, reassurance, love all wrapped into one small gesture.
“What if,” she said slowly, thinking out loud now, “I go to Charlotte and try to sell her on the idea of me going on a long-term assignment? I could report on the emerging hospitality industry in the Middle East. I’d have an inside view – access to the planning, the politics, the culture shaping it all. It’s a lifestyle magazine, Colin. Travel is just as important as my regular reporting.”
Colin shot upright, staring at her as if she’d just solved an impossible equation. “You’re a genius.” He laughed, a little breathless. “I could bring you to some of the government meetings. And you could offer a woman’s perspective on the destinations - the experiences, the safety, what actually makes them appealing.”
Penelope climbed onto his lap, straddling him easily, her hands resting on his shoulders. “And in my downtime, I can work on my books. Colin, I love traveling with you. I always have. I’d love to see more of the world.” Her voice softened. “I’ve lived vicariously through you for years.”
Colin pressed his forehead to hers. “I’ve always wanted you to come with me. You know how many times I asked. I want you with me. And I know you’ll hate this idea, but if Charlotte isn’t interested, you could write independently or even just focus on your books. I’ve read your drafts. I believe in you and you know that Agatha Danbury has a lot of contacts in the publishing industry. But I’d never push you.”
Penelope caressed his face with the back of her hand. “I know my worth. Other travel and lifestyle outlets have been asking me to freelance for them for years.”
He kissed her then – deeper, surer – one hand sliding beneath the hem of her shirt, warm against the smooth skin of her back. Penelope’s fingers threaded through his curls, savoring the softness, the reality of him. The closeness, the want, the rightness of it all made her dizzy. How is this real? she wondered. How is it that the kind, witty, ridiculously handsome man I’ve loved for half my life is here, loving me back?
Colin had never really talked about marriage or family. Not since the disaster that was his relationship with Marina. Penelope knew that. And she knew, too, that while she wanted to travel with him – desperately – it wasn’t all she wanted.
She pulled back just enough to speak, though he immediately tried to distract her with a slow trail of kisses along her neck.
“Col,” she murmured, smiling despite herself, “babe, if there’s one thing I learned from Zoe and Ollie, it’s that we have to be honest about what we want. And what we’re willing to sacrifice.”
He paused, lips lingering at her throat, then leaned back to look at her properly.
“Of course, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I don’t want you to sacrifice anything.” He kissed her cheek, then added with a grin, “And I like babe.”
She laughed softly, but her expression remained serious. “I am excited about traveling with you, truly. But at some point…I’ve always dreamed of having a family. I want our children to be well-traveled, yes, but I want them to have stability. I want them to have both parents there. Not a plane ride away.”
Colin started to speak, but she pressed a finger to his lips.
“And I would never ask you to give up what you love best in the world.”
He kissed her fingertip and gently moved her hand aside. “May I speak?” he teased, eyes bright.
She nodded, smiling.
“What I love best in the world is you.”
Her breath caught, but before she could respond, he pressed his finger to her lips this time. “You started it,” he said lightly. Then, more seriously, “Pen, I don’t want to travel forever. I want to travel sometimes for work, for holidays, but I’m tired of living out of suitcases. Of missing milestones. Of being away from the people I love.” He swallowed. “I was already working with Simon on ideas to keep me home. With you. Before this opportunity finally came together.”
He leaned in and kissed her softly. “So yes. I want to travel with you. I want us to be a couple. I want to start a family of redheads – nonnegotiable, all of them – and buy a house and be part of a loud, ridiculous family. I want to love our children and annoy them and show up for them.”
Penelope pushed his hand away, breathless and hopeful, “So…you’re saying we want the same things?” Penelope laughed and pushed him back onto the bed. “We can be…everything?”
“Yes,” he said, guiding her hips as she straddled him. “Everything.”
They kissed again, deeper now, hands roaming, laughter slipping between breaths.
“Do we really have to go to trivia tonight?” Colin asked.
Penelope smiled. “It’s your family. We can skip it, but you know they’ll pester us unless we have a good excuse.”
“I’ll text them,” he said. “Tell them we’re planning our wedding.”
She snorted. “That will summon them like demons. And excuse you, but did I miss a proposal? Or a first date for that matter?”
“First date? We’ve been a couple for years, haven’t you heard? Even Zoe and Oliver got married two days later.”
He rolled them so he hovered over her, eyes bright.
“For god’s sake, Penelope Featherington,” he said, suddenly earnest, “are you going to marry me or not?”