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Penelope doesn’t know why she always looks at her Facebook memories.
It’s never a good feeling. They’re always either mundane or embarrassing, her screaming into the void that she had to go to work and she just didn’t want to or lyrics from her ill advised emo phase.
(The worst thing about that was that Portia was correct. It very much was a phase and not a lifestyle.)
But Colin loved to sleep in, which gave her far too much time for scrolling on her phone. Part of her knew that he wouldn’t mind if she began puttering in his flat but she couldn’t bring herself to leave his side after 15 years of pining. She loved laying beside him for the extra hour he was asleep, listening to his steady breathing, feeling his hand clutched around her waist. It was the image she used to lull herself to sleep many nights in the past and now she got to live it.
So when the banner came across her phone exclaiming she had a memory to review from 10 years ago as she was reading Reddit “Am I the Asshole” stories, she couldn’t help but click on it.
Sadly for her, on this day it wasn’t petty gripes with capitalism or lyrics to forgotten songs taunting her but a picture.
The picture came from the account of the late Marina Thompson. Eloise had taken it upon herself to log into the account periodically to ensure it wasn’t deleted. She wanted Oliver and Amanda to have access one day so they could see pictures where their mother was smiling.
It was taken ten years ago that day, the day that Colin Bridgerton broke Penelope’s heart twice.
The first, when he fell head over heels in infatuation with Marina, her own cousin.
The second, when he loudly proclaimed to his friends that he would never date Penelope Featherington.
Part of Penelope was embarrassed at the way tears sprung to her eyes as she looked at the picture.
It was of Penelope, Marina and Colin. Colin stood in the middle with both Marina and Penelope wrapped around his waist. Though Penelope and Marina were both smiling at the camera, Colin was looking down at Marina, smiling softly.
That was her Colin, always wearing his heart on his sleeve even when he was desperate not to.
Penelope clicked on the album, due to a complete lack of self preservation, and scrolled through the pictures. Many were of Colin and Marina, her perched on his lap, each holding a bottle of beer. Colin hoisting her in the air, her long legs wrapped around his waist. Marina sitting on the kitchen counter, Colin standing between her legs.
Penelope scrolled through some pictures of Fife as well, her heart stuttering when she remembered his faux innocent question: I thought you were dating her cousin, the chubby one.
And like clockwork, Colin’s answer rang in her head as clearly now as it did 10 years ago: Penelope? That’s never going to happen.
Penelope suppressed a stuttering breath. She slowly pried Colin’s arm off her midsection, trying not to wake him. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and quickly stood up, avoiding looking at the mirror, not willing to be faced with her own nakedness at this moment. She quickly threw on a loungewear set before tiptoeing out to Colin’s kitchen.
With a sigh, Penelope put on the electric kettle and watched it as it boiled.
Penelope tried to push aside the feelings that came with her unwelcome memory. It was gauche to be jealous of a dead woman, especially one that suffered so much in the years between Marina sitting on Colin’s lap to when Penelope sat beside Colin, gripping his hand tightly at Marina’s funeral.
Penelope knew that Colin’s feelings for Marina were long gone. Though he was obviously saddened by her untimely death, he was completely over her. However, seeing those photos brought up insecurities Penelope thought were long behind her.
“Hey, baby,” Colin said with a yawn as he walked out of his bedroom. He stretched his arms over his head, revealing a strip of his bare stomach. He walked over to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, kissing the side of her head. Penelope suppressed a flinch as his other hand drifted to her stomach.
Penelope didn’t usually mind when Colin caressed her stomach. She had spent the last ten years learning to love her body, to fight back against her mother’s harsh words but in this moment, she longed to have the same toned stomach Marina had.
The same physique all of Colin’s exes had.
Penelope gave Colin’s arm a squeeze before slipping out of his embrace and reached into Colin’s cabinet to get some mugs and tea bags. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Colin.
“What’s wrong, love?” Colin asked, running a hand down the back of her arm.
Glancing at his concerned face, Penelope’s heart stuttered. She couldn’t tell him that she was insecure about his past, she was too embarrassed.
“Nothing, just a little hungover,” she replied. It wasn’t a total lie, she and Colin had gone to dinner with Francesca and Michaela the night before. Michaela was such a captivating storyteller that the wine pours freely.
Colin hummed and pressed a kiss to her head as he picked up his cup of tea. “Lazy Saturday in I think, it’s shit weather anyway,” he said, gesturing towards the living room windows as he led her to his couch. Penelope was shocked to note how rainy it was outside, the storm in her chest blocking out her ability to see the world around her.
Penelope laid on the couch, her legs stretched along the cushions towards Colin who sat on the other end. As Colin flipped through his steaming apps looking for something to watch, Penelope swiped on her phone.
Perhaps Instagram was a mistake. The siren call of hurting her own feelings was a pull that was too strong for an already hurt Penelope to stifle.
With a quick glance at Colin to ensure he was sufficiently distracted, she quickly navigated to his profile and scrolled down as far as she could.
Most of the photos were of Colin standing in front of beautiful scenes around the world. Moraine Lake in Alberta, Machu Picchu, the Amalfi Coast, the restaurant Anthony Bourdain took President Obama to in Vietnam. Each post has a beautiful caption that perfectly encapsulates art, history, humour and social consciousness in a way that only Colin could. Penelope spent nights she couldn’t sleep re-reading his Instagram, feeling like she was with him wherever she was.
But today wasn’t for reminiscing.
She found the first post she was looking for and clicked on it. Colin was standing on a beach in Miami, shirtless with sunglasses, his arm casually draped around Avery.
Avery. One of Colin’s “Women at Port”, as Benedict so crassly called them. A situationship that was barely a situation. Less than friends with benefits, more like colleagues with benefits. She was a fellow influencer that had a significant influence on Colin.
Avery’s face taunted Penelope. Penelope had spent years envious of the influencer who only knew Penelope as a snippet on FaceTime but Penelope knew her. Avery’s long blonde hair, seemingly never fried despite the copious amount of bleach she used. Lips perfectly plump, at least four units of filler used. Big blue eyes. Legs for days. A perfectly toned stomach.
Penelope tapped the photo, bringing up the tags and navigating to Avery’s personal page. Now Colin hadn’t talked about Avery in years, Penelope knew they hadn’t talked since before Covid. As Penelope reviewed her page, she saw Avery had transitioned to a mommy blogger, three kids down and another on the way.
Penelope suppressed a scoff.
4 kids in 5 years? Avery needed another hobby.
Penelope flicked her thumb against the screen, navigating back to Colin’s profile. She scrolled until she found the next woman.
Gemma. The Bondi babe with thick sandy blonde waves, bright hazel eyes and a thousand watt smile. Her body toned from years of surf and sand, her skin tanned a beautiful bronze.
The picture was four years old. At the time, Penelope tried to not think about Colin, she was a year into her own relationship with Alfie Debling and was trying to get over Colin. She never talked to Gemma, never heard Colin talk about Gemma but it didn’t matter. At this moment, her chest ached with jealousy.
She quickly checked the tags and went to Gemma’s main profile. With a quick scroll, Penelope determined Gemma was now a home DIY influencer with her girlfriend, who was equally stunning. God, even their dogs were perfect, it wasn’t fair.
Penelope sniffed and wiped away a stray tear, causing Colin’s attention to be drawn back to her. He quickly put a hand on her knee, brows furrowed.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” He asked.
“I’m just reading a sad story about a dog,” she lied quickly. It worked and Colin hummed sympathetically. He caressed her knee as he picked up his own phone.
“Sad dogs and hangovers don’t mix,” he said sagely as he unlocked his phone. “I’m going to order us some brunch. Pho okay with you?”
Penelope hummed in agreement, not really caring what he ordered but grateful he’d be distracted as he internally debated the different options for Vietnamese.
Looking back at her phone, Penelope scrolled to the next woman she saw. Jeanne, a French Canadian woman with dark skin, soulful brown eyes, perfectly toned legs and a beautiful figure. Her bright smile even captivated Penelope. Colin had met her while he was skiing in Whistler one winter. He would set up his phone in the kitchen of his chalet and Jeanne would flit around making him food Penelope had never had and couldn’t pronounce.
With bleary eyes, Penelope tried to click on the tags.
“You liked one of my Instagram photos?” Colin asked with a laugh, clicking away on his phone.
Penelope frozen. Fuck.
She never liked the photos he posted with his hook ups. It was her own silent protest. He asked her about it once and she waved him off, claiming to not want to get attached to the women before teasing him about his playboy ways.
“Pen, why are you liking my photos from three years ago?” He asked gently, reaching over to caress her calf.
“I know I’m not your type,” Penelope blurted out, her face flushing scarlet. Her heart felt too heavy to lie. Her chest ached with a combination of jealousy, sadness and embarrassment.
“What?” Colin asked, startled. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Penelope took a shaky breath. “I know I don’t look like Marina or Avery or Gemma or Jeanne or the rest.”
“So? I don’t have a type,” Colin said confidently, earning a scoff from Penelope.
“Please, you have a type,” she muttered, mortified at the way tears brimmed her eyes.
“I really don’t, none of those women you mentioned are alike. They had different hair colours and eye colours, different interests, different personalities,” Colin said.
Penelope shook her head in frustration. He really didn’t get it. “They’re all so beautiful,” Penelope said in a croaked whisper.
Surprise crossed Colin’s face. “You’re beautiful.”
“Not like them,” Penelope said, shaking her head. “They’re all tall and skinny with perfect bodies and perfect lives, perky breasts, clear skin, sexy-“
“Stop,” Colin said, holding up a hand. “You’re getting such a curated look at them. You know the Internet isn’t real life.”
Penelope did know that. She knew that Colin would often post a vlog showing himself having fun at the most exciting corners of the world, only to call her later from his hotel room lamenting about his loneliness.
“It doesn’t matter,” Penelope said firmly, swiping the tears from her cheeks. “They’re the kinds of girls you like and I’m not like them. What if you find someone like them?”
Colin couldn’t help the flash of anger that overcame him. “Pen, it’s not like you’ve dated guys who look like me before either. Debling was pretty much my exact opposite in looks and personality, that doesn’t mean you’re not attracted to me. It doesn’t mean you’re going to leave me for someone else.”
“That’s different.”
“How is it different?”
“Because I’ve been in love with you for half my life,” Penelope mumbled, her face flushing red. She was not usually embarrassed by her feelings, having long since accepted them as part of who she is but in this moment, she couldn’t help but feel a little mortified.
Colin frowned at her. Penelope knew that he didn’t love being reminded of all the time he wasted not seeing her as more than a friend. She always reassured him that she knew how important timing was to relationships and she wasn’t mad.
She couldn’t bring herself to do that this time.
“Pen,” Colin sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back against the arm of the couch. “I’m not exactly thrilled to be having this conversation but you were attracted to Debling, right?”
Penelope flushed and looked away from Colin. They rarely talked about her longterm ex-boyfriend as she knew it was a sensitive subject for him. They especially never talked about her feelings for said ex-boyfriend. “Yes, of course.”
“He and I were opposites pretty much in every way. We have different hair, he has a beard, he’s boring as hell and I’m fun,” Colin said, ticking his points off his fingers. “That doesn’t mean you’re less attracted to me.”
“I’m more attracted to you than I was to Alfie,” Penelope pointed out.
“And I’m more attracted to you than I was to any of my exes.”
“That makes no sense!” Penelope exclaimed.
Colin stared at Penelope wide eyed for a moment before throwing up his hands. “Look, I’m not going to put any of my exes down. I was attracted to them, they trusted me enough to share their bodies with me but I’m still more attracted to you.”
“But they were models and influencers! They’re paid to be attractive!” Penelope argued.
“They’re paid to be one version of attractive. And because they’re paid to be that version of attractive, they had a lot of confidence. You’re the only woman I’ve pursued.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that the models and influencers I’ve seen in the past all came up to me and asked me out. Even Marina made the first move with me. My brothers made fun of me for it, they both loved the chase themselves but it wasn’t something that ever interested me. It was only when I fell in love with you that I felt the way they described. I felt the torture of not being with you. I felt my body cry out to hold yours. I was desperate for even a hint of your attention. That never happened to me before.” Colin surged forward and gently nudged Penelope’s legs off the couch, pulling her up into a sitting position. He grasped her hands and held them tightly to his chest. “I’ve only ever loved you.”
“I know,” Penelope whispered, looking down at their joint hands. Shame bubbled up in her stomach. “ I guess I just feel jealous sometimes.”
“I understand that, I feel jealous of your relationship with Debling sometimes,” Colin admitted. Penelope’s eyes snapped to him. She knew at the time Colin felt some jealousy for Alfie. He admitted he never gave Alfie a chance because of that jealousy. “You were with him for four years. I never came anywhere close to having a relationship that long.”
“I suppose so,” Penelope conceded.
“You had a complete life with him. You lived with him, you split bills, you still share a Netflix account with him!” Colin exclaimed, dropping one of Penelope’s hands to run through his hair. “You don’t know how much it bothers me to see his avatar when we watch Netflix at your flat. I see the handwritten notes he left you on how to care for your plants.”
Penelope used her free hand to rub Colin’s knee. “I guess I don’t really think about the things I still have from Alfie. By the end of our relationship, we just existed in the same space.”
“I know that. And I know you know that jealousy isn’t logical.
“I need you to believe that if I have a type, it’s you. It will only ever be you because it can only ever be you. I feel like my life before we were us was like a dull dream that you forget the moment you wake up. Being with you has made me feel like my life has truly begun.”
Colin reached over and cupped Penelope’s cheek, using his thumb to wipe away the tears spilling down, only this time they were tears of joy instead of despair.
“I love you so much,” Penelope said with a sniff, climbing into Colin’s lap.
“I love you more than anything,” Colin replied, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck. They sat in silence for a few moments until his phone started buzzing.
“That’s the food,” he groaned as he stood up, bringing Penelope with him. She giggled as her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands floating down to her ass to keep her in place.
Colin brought his lips down to hers, tasting the remnants of her tears and tea. Her hands tangled in the hairs at the nape of his neck as he walked them towards the door. Colin clumsily put his shoes on before opening the door. Before stepping out, he tapped her thigh, indicating she should jump down.
“I’m going to get our food,” he said, bending down so he was at her eye level. “And you’re going to pick out the absolute worst romantic comedy you can find. We’re going to cuddle and eat all day. Then we’re going to talk about all the furniture at your place and think about what we want to give back to Debling.”
Penelope cocked her head to the side, her cheeks still delightfully flushed from their make out. “My furniture?”
“Well, yeah, we don’t need doubles and he should get first dibs before we put stuff up on Facebook Marketplace,” Colin explained, trying to be nonchalant but unable to suppress the sly grin from crossing his face.
“Colin, what are you talking about?” Penelope asked, looking at him with wide blue eyes.
Colin drew up to his full height, ignoring as his phone vibrated due to a likely irate Uber Eats deliverer. “Well, Penelope Featherington, are you going to move in with me or not?”