Chapter Text
Colin was extremely jet lagged, but he couldn’t sit still, let alone lie down to sleep. So instead, he paced across the floor of his childhood room at Aubrey Hall. He knew he would see her soon. They had only texted once since the incident. She had offered to bow out of her traditional visit to Aubrey Hall last summer so he could be with his family. Coming here without seeing Penelope would be more heartbreaking than skipping his visit, so he told her he would be traveling anyway and not to give up her own trip.
When Colin entered the dining room, his eyes were immediately drawn to her. She had cut her auburn hair and was dressed in a simple green dress that emphasized her curves beautifully. He had been prepared to meet the shy, still slightly awkward 20-year-old Penelope, not the poised young woman she had grown into. Her eyes met his and she smiled at him, a graciousness in her expression that he had not been expecting.
They were seated for dinner before they could speak, but he felt a constant awareness of where she was and whom she was speaking to throughout the evening. Colin had always felt that invisible tie between them, but he had been too foolish to appreciate it then.
After dinner, his mother proposed a champagne toast to Penelope in honor of her graduation from university. Colin felt a sense of pride as he saw how she had grown more confident as the center of attention, and even ventured a quip that made the whole room laugh. Afterwards, Colin made his way over to congratulate her personally.
“Penelope.” He didn’t dare call her Pen. “Congratulations! It’s good to see you.”
Penelope smiled genuinely and said, “You too, Colin. How have you been?”
As they exchanged the usual pleasantries, Colin found himself examining her eyes, which had always held so much. Something was different about the way she looked at him now, but he couldn’t pick out the element that had changed. Of course, there was a little apprehension at seeing him after how things had ended, but he expected that. There was that softness he knew was reserved for him, that special fondness he had treasured and pushed away in equal measure. And surprisingly, as they talked about her graduation and his recent travels, he could still see the respect there. Little though he deserved it. And then, it hit him in the chest. It was the hope that was gone. That extra glint, that slight widening of her eyes when he touched her. She had given up hope for them.
And even though it wasn’t fair, even though he had no right, he felt disappointed by that. He hadn’t wanted to see it at the time, but he had carried his own hopes for them. And now he was certain that he was carrying those alone.
______
Penelope had washed her face, done her nightly skincare routine (the truest sign that she was a real adult now), and changed into her favorite cozy writing clothes before wandering down to the gazebo that overlooked a small lake at the edge of the gardens.
Penelope realized that to make any serious progress on her writing, she had to escape the inhabitants of the house, with all their pranks and intrigues. The gazebo held memories of her last conversation with Colin, it was true, but she wanted to reclaim it for herself.
Last summer, she had developed a habit of writing in the gazebo each night after El had gone to sleep and the house was quiet. Violet, or rather one of the gardeners, had strung fairy lights and lanterns to illuminate the space and there was comfortable garden furniture where she could snuggle up with her laptop. Looking out over the water, with only the sounds of the night around her, did wonders for her creativity.
As she neared the end of the path, she saw a distinctive outline sitting in one of the plush chairs nearest the stairs.
Colin.
He had seen her, there was no turning around now without making it even more awkward.
Squaring her shoulders, Penelope stepped into the light. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” she called.
He looked up from his laptop and smiled, even though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, it’s the only place on the estate without Wi-Fi where I can concentrate.”
“That’s why I love it too. No distractions. That and being near the water. I didn’t mean to intrude though, I’ll find somewhere else,” Penelope offered.
He frowned at that. “There’s plenty of space for both of us.”
Penelope was torn. She really didn’t want to give up her best space since she was feeling the pressure of meeting her editor’s deadline. But she could feel silent tension creeping into the air as they met in the same place where they had argued. Was Colin remembering it too?
He hadn’t been here last summer, and she was relieved. The ache of not seeing him hurt less than the ache of being near him. He had broken something between them and there was no use pretending otherwise. Penelope hadn’t been shielded from disappointment in her short life. She learned to tuck away those parts of herself that hurt too much. Colin was one of those parts that she let live just below the surface of her awareness, but now she would have to face him.
“Seriously, it’s fine,” Colin insisted. Well, she could at least try it for tonight, and if it didn’t work try to come up with a new plan tomorrow.
Penelope smiled politely and moved to her favorite love seat that had a side table in the perfect spot. She laid out her laptop, a caffeine-free Dr. Pepper, and her green bee notebook with a matching pen. When that was lined up to her satisfaction, she reached back into her bag for her bento box. Opening it carefully to check if her snacks remained intact, she put it next to the Dr. Pepper.
“That’s quite the setup you have there,” Colin said with a teasing lilt in his voice.
“Yes, as opposed to the dumpster fire you have going on,” Penelope said cheerfully, motioning to Colin’s area of the gazebo. An open bag of pretzels (party size, of course) was piled on top of an unsteady stack of Moleskine journals and loose papers. A half-empty beer was on the floor next to his feet, looking like he might kick it over any minute. “This is my writing ritual. I’ve got my lucky outfit on, my beloved DP…it wards off writer’s block.”
Colin smiled in the old way that Penelope missed so much, with his eyes crinkling and his dimple showing. It was his joyful Colin smile, the one he got when something delighted him. It hurt to see. “That is so you, Penelope.”
Clearing her throat, and dismissing the emotion rising in her chest, she motioned to her laptop. “I better get to work now, don’t want to interrupt.”
Eventually Penelope was able to ignore his presence enough to get into the flow of her writing. They worked in silence until Penelope yawned and began to pack up her things.
“Good night, Colin.”
“Night.”
As she walked back to the house, she reflected that the night hadn’t gone too badly. With a sigh, she realized that she only had to avoid any difficult conversations with him for two more months.
______
Colin stripped off his shirt and used it to wipe his brow as he walked back up to the house. His siblings had just finished a game of Pall Mall, which Gregory had somehow won. He needed a shower to rinse off the stench of defeat at the hands of his baby brother.
“Oh,” he heard a gasp as he collided with Penelope who was walking, reading a book, and drinking a lemonade at the same time. The lemonade spilled over them as well as her book.
As she looked up, her eyes widened at the sight of his bare torso before snapping up to his face to apologize. Colin felt a surge of satisfaction that she wasn’t totally unaffected by his presence.
“Sorry, I was at the good part of my book, but I should have watched where I was going.”
“No worries, I was just going to take a shower anyway. You’ve always had your cute nose in a book since we were kids,” Colin replied as he teasingly bopped the end of her nose. He realized too late that this was the first time he had touched her since the incident, and she looked a bit startled.
As she gave an embarrassed smile and continued toward the pool, he reflected that it hadn’t been as difficult spending time with Penelope as expected, awkward nose bopping aside.
During the day, he was usually with his brothers while she spent time with his sisters. There was a lot of group socializing, so the only time he really saw her alone was in the gazebo at night. They made small talk, and it usually felt like a comfortable silence while they were working.
To be honest, having her nearby comforted Colin. It was so easy for him to begin doubting himself and his writing. With Penelope, he had someone who believed in him, no matter what stood between them now. He dreaded going back to solitary writing at the end of the summer.
That evening, Colin’s eyes followed Penelope as she set up her writing station. He loved that too, all her adorable little superstitions and quirks. And he knew that she wouldn’t have been so open about them with just anyone. It reassured him that she wasn’t shutting him out completely.
“Am I distracting you?” Penelope asked.
Colin realized he had been staring and needed to recover. “No, sorry. Just taking a little break. I haven’t asked, what are you working on?”
Penelope’s eyes darted around the gazebo as she seemed to be making a decision. “Hmm…can you still keep a secret?”
Colin paused to consider with his fingers steepled under his chin. “Depends. Could I use this information to embarrass my siblings?”
Penelope laughed loudly and Colin grinned. He had always loved being the one who made her laugh.
“No, at least I can’t see any angle where you could. Although knowing you…”
“Seriously though, I won’t tell anyone. Not even Eloise,” he promised, crossing his heart.
“She actually does know this, but not many other people do.” Penelope paused and bit her lip. “I have a book deal. I’m writing a novel that’s loosely based on my life.”
Colin raised his eyebrows and didn’t say anything for a moment. A book deal was an incredible accomplishment and Penelope had only recently graduated. He knew she was talented, but how had she pulled this off?
“I know it seems a little stupid for a 22-year-old to be writing a novel. It’s about…well, you can probably imagine what it’s about,” Penelope looked down at her hands, mistaking his silence for disapproval.
Colin could imagine all too well. Penelope’s father had been a prominent politician who had flamed out spectacularly due to a gambling addiction. About a year ago, he passed away under mysterious circumstances. Her family had lost so much, and he knew her life hadn’t been easy, especially given that everything played out in the public eye. The only family member Penelope could really count on was her sister Felicity.
“No, Penelope, that wasn’t what I was thinking at all.” Without questioning it too much, he moved to the loveseat and grabbed her hand. “This is amazing news and I know it’s going to be wonderful. Tell me how it all happened.”
Penelope’s shoulders relaxed and a hint of excitement came into her voice. “Well, I had this brilliant professor who became a mentor and friend. He thought my work had enough potential to turn into a book proposal and we spent time developing it together. He introduced me to some industry contacts and it all fell into place from there.”
“I know it might not mean much coming from me, but I’m so proud of you Penelope.” Colin squeezed her hand before remembering himself and gently pulling it away.
Penelope looked pleased. “Of course, it means something, Colin! Don’t be silly.”
Colin knew he was edging too close to a conversation that neither of them wanted to have so he didn’t press further. “Well, given you have a book to write, I should let you get to it, or your editor will be after me.”
Penelope patted his knee eagerly. “Aren’t you going to tell me what you’re writing? I’m so happy you decided to try.”
“It’s a collection of essays about my travels and reflection on the future of travel. Sustainability, cultural impact, those sorts of things. More of my pointless soul searching I guess,” Colin said with a self-deprecating laugh.
Penelope’s face fell and suddenly two years hadn’t passed. “Colin - ” Penelope started in an apologetic voice.
“No, no, it’s fine Penelope. Let’s get back to work,” Colin said with the empty smile he used for strangers. They both turned back to their laptops and pretended to write but the silence hung around them, heavy and painful.