Work Text:
09:52
Hey, I know it’s been a while.
But I thought I’d let you know I’m back in London.
- -
Lucy had been staring at the text all day. She didn’t have his number saved anymore, but she knew who it was from.
She knew she should probably reply.
But what would she say? He didn’t owe her anything. He didn’t owe her a heads up. And yet, he sent one anyway.
She should acknowledge it, at the very least.
“Thanks for letting me know” was too formal. It made it sound like she had been the one who was wronged when it ended. They both knew that wasn’t true. He didn’t leave London to make life easier for her. He left to make things easier for himself.
She knew he’d come back to London eventually, the secondment was only six months. He wouldn’t be able to stay away for much longer than that. Not when all of his family were here. He loved them too much.
It had been months since she'd heard from him, which was for the best. She knew he wouldn’t reach out for a while. Not while things were still so raw.
Lucy had promised herself to never reach out to him. She couldn’t ruin his life anymore than she already had.
- -
Things hadn’t ended well between them.
Lucy would argue with anyone who’d listen that it hadn’t ended badly.
Well, she would argue with people if they knew what had happened between them.
That was their biggest problem in the end. The thing that eventually drove them apart.
No one knew.
At least not at the time. Not while they were together.
Everyone thought they were just friends. They never corrected anyone who made that assumption either.
It was a lie, a total lie, and one of the biggest she had ever said.
She had never just seen him as a friend. Long before he had felt the same way, she knew that she could never just be his friend.
In the end, they weren’t just friends but no one was any the wiser.
Of course, a few people knew about it now.
Arthur and Hermione (and probably Richard) knew from her side. Arthur had figured it out, he had guessed that was where she was spending most of her nights. He didn’t blame her, that would have made him a hypocrite. She wasn’t the only one who rarely spent a night in their shared apartment.
She assumed that Hyacinth, and maybe a few other siblings and their spouses, would know from his side. That was the problem with big families, it was hard to keep a secret. If he told one person, they would all know.
They probably all hated her.
She wouldn’t blame them if they did. She hated herself for a while.
It was her fault that they had ended up in this mess.
Their entire relationship was always a disaster waiting to happen, but she made it worse.
It was meant to be just sex, no strings attached. Pure, filthy sex between two friends that needed to get off.
Both of them promised they wouldn’t get attached. Both of them broke that promise.
They had accepted that things couldn't continue as they were. There were too many feelings involved.
He wanted to take their relationship to the next level.
She wanted that too.
But she also had a fiancée she was expected to marry. He knew that when they started this whole affair.
They couldn’t agree on a way forward, so they decided no way forward was best.
There were no tears when it ended. There was no yelling or screaming.
Their relationship could have ended a lot better, but it didn’t end badly.
That was the line Lucy repeated to herself. That was her mantra for when things got too much, when she started to think of the what-ifs.
She could have been brave, she could have put herself first for once.
They would have been happy together.
- -
“Earth to Lucy,” Hermione said, waving a hand in front of her friend’s face. “You haven’t listened to a word I've said all day, have you?”
“Yes, I have!” Lucy replied indignantly. “You were saying you wanted pale green bridesmaids dresses.”
“So maybe you were listening,” she rolled her eyes fondly. “But, Lucy, you forget that I know you. You’ve been distracted all day.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Lucinda Margaret Catherine Abernathy. Do not lie to me. You’ve been distracted and I want to know why.”
“I’m not lying to you, Hermione. Have I ever?”
Hermione fixed her with a pointed look. They both knew she had.
“You purposely ignored the second part, didn’t you?” Hermione huffed.
Then she froze. And her eyes went wide with panic.
“Lucy, oh my god. I’m so sorry,” Hermione rushed out. “It’s all this talk about the wedding isn’t it? I’m so stupid, I didn’t even think– oh, I’m such a terrible friend. Lucy, please forgive me. I swear I won’t mention anything to do with wedding planning again.”
Lucy forced herself to smile. She didn't want to upset Hermione. In fact, that was the last thing she wanted to do. She didn’t want her best friend to think she couldn’t share the joys of wedding planning with Lucy. Hermione had been looking forward to this day since she had watched a Danish royal wedding on the television with her mother when she was seven years old.
“Hermione,” Lucy said, reaching across the table to grab her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not the wedding talk, I promise. I’m not the only person in the world who has experienced a failed engagement. You don’t have to tip-toe around me, okay?”
- -
The failed engagement.
That part had been kept quiet. She wasn’t even sure if he knew.
Maybe that could be her reply to the text?
“Did you hear I never actually got married?” He probably had. His sisters, and Anthony, would have been invited to the wedding if it had happened. Which it didn’t. Aside from that, he had probably seen Arthur’s statement, his coming out. He could piece together what happened after that.
“Did you hear Arthur and I called things off a few weeks after you left?” No, that was too cruel. Too blunt. There was no need for her to open up that wound again. She and Arthur could have, should have, called things off far earlier. They could have, should have, stood up to his father and her uncle and never agreed to go along with their plan.
Although, neither of them really had much of a choice.
Robert had told her that if the merger didn’t happen, she and Richard would lose everything.
(Robert had been wrong. Under Richard’s management, profits have never been so high.)
Arthur’s father had convinced him that if he were to make his sexuality public, he would lose support. He had barely won the by-election in the first place and he needed the support to retain his seat, especially if he was to become Prime Minister one day.
(Arthur’s father had been wrong. His popularity had skyrocketed once he came out and shifted his focus towards policies and causes he actually believed in.)
Lucy found herself wishing he did know about the failed engagement. It would make things easier.
That way, she wouldn’t have to be the one to tell him.
That way, he might be open to seeing her again.
Lucy knew that would be a bad idea. But she couldn’t help herself when it came to him.
It was the green eyes, the crooked nose, the curly hair, the smile. Oh, the smile. That gorgeous, dimpled smile that had haunted her dreams for the moment she first saw it all those years ago.
She was a moth and he was the flame. She couldn’t stay away.
She wanted to run to him the second he left her apartment that night and beg him to give her more time. He would have agreed, even though it was just delaying the inevitable. She knew she wouldn’t call off the wedding. He was starting to realise that too.
She wanted to call him the second she and Arthur ended the engagement and subsequently did call off the wedding.
Arthur had even suggested as much, but Lucy wouldn’t, couldn’t, do it. She couldn’t risk the rejection and the chances of that happening were far too high.
No they weren't, the little voice in her head whispered. He would have taken you back without a second thought if he believed he had a chance to be with you for real.
- -
“You know what we need?” Hermione declared. “A girls night out. You, me, Honoria, Sarah, Iris, Cecily Royal–”
“You don’t like Cecily Royal,” Lucy interjected.
“You don’t like Cecily Royal. I don’t have much of an opinion on her,” Hermione countered. “But she’s staying with Sarah while her apartment is being renovated so we can’t not invite her. It would be considered rude. And she’d probably invite herself anyway.”
- -
With the unanswered text still playing on her mind, Lucy wanted to feel good tonight. She wanted to feel sexy and daring , like the Lucy Abernathy she knew she could be. She wanted to bring out the side of her that only he knew.
She decided to put on some of her nicer lingerie. She knew she wasn’t going to leave the bar with anyone tonight, she would never be able to live with the mortification of accidentally calling them by another man’s name while she gripped the sheets beneath her, but it made her feel confident.
And she liked to be prepared, just in case.
She picked out one of the La Perla sets he had bought for her just before things went south. Bra, thong, suspender belt, stockings. The whole nine yards. She didn’t want to think about how much it cost.
Like most men, he loved her in lingerie.
Lucy also knew his favourite colour was blue.
She indulged him at the start, and bought herself a few blue lingerie sets and bodysuits with the intention of surprising him.
He loved it, just like she knew he would.
But nothing would beat the first time he undressed her and saw that she was wearing something he had bought her. His jaw went slack, his eyes darkened and suddenly it felt like his hands were everywhere. He couldn’t get it off her fast enough.
He worshipped her that night. Lucy had never felt so alive.
She could barely walk the next day. She told Hermione she had pulled a muscle doing yoga.
It had been worth it.
- -
The girls met at the bar at 9pm.
The conversation started out tame. They covered the usual topics - general life updates, upcoming wedding updates from Hermione and Honoria, complaints about work, news they had about people they knew.
That’s when it ventured into dangerous territory for Lucy.
“I’ve heard that Gregory Bridgerton might have moved back to London,” Cecily said smugly.
Lucy thought carefully about how to respond. She didn’t want to show her hand too early. As far as everyone was concerned the two were still good friends.
“And how do you know that?” Iris asked, with a slightly bored expression. “Did he even leave London?” She was one of few women who had never seen the appeal of the Bridgerton brothers.
“My mother met his mother the other day. Violet told my mother that he had grown tired of being so far away from his family,” Cecily replied with a dreamy sigh. “He’s been living in Galway for the last few months. That’s a city on the west coast of Ireland” she added in a slightly arrogant tone of voice.
Lucy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was starting to remember why she never liked Cecily.
“Do you know if he’s back in London?” Honoria asked, directing her question at Lucy.
“He is,” Lucy replied. “He texted me this morning.”
She shouldn't have added that second part, but she so desperately wanted to wipe the smug look off Cecily’s face.
It worked.
- -
Hermione cornered Lucy while she was waiting at the bar.
“You should have told me he texted you. I knew there was something going on.”
“It was nothing. All he said was that he was back in London and wanted to let me know. I haven’t replied.”
“Have you thought about why he might want you to know he’s back?”
Lucy avoided eye contact. “As far as he is aware, I could still be engaged. Which means, nothing has changed.”
“Everything has changed, Lucy. The main thing being that you are no longer engaged. Which, he would know, especially considering Arthur is now publicly dating Neville. You might not have told him the full story, but someone has.”
Lucy had to admit Hermione had a point. Aside from his siblings, Neville was the only person Gregory may have confided in. Neville was the other, other man.
Lucy remained silent as she mulled this over.
“Look, I'm not saying you need to go over to his place and confess your undying love for–,” Hermione continued.
“I am not in love with–”
“--him.” Hermione finished with a sigh. “Yes, Lucy, you are. You always have been and I’m honestly sorry I didn’t realise it earlier. The scheme with Arthur was always going to leave you unhappy. We, Richard and I, should have realised something was wrong. Now you’re free from that commitment. You owe it to yourself to at least try to be happy. And if he is what makes you happy then you need to tell him that. He might feel the same way.”
“We haven’t spoken in months, I have no idea where he’s living these days and this isn’t a conversation we should be having over the phone,” Lucy retorted. It was a series of pathetic excuses, she knew that, but it was all she could think of right now.
“You should call him. Not tonight, obviously. If you go there tonight the two of you will only do one thing and it won’t be talking,” Honoria chimed in (where had she come from?). “Unless that’s what you want, of course,” she added slyly.
“No, no, no! This is a bad idea,” Hermione sounded horrified. “Do not call him tonight. We need to think about this when you’re sober. You can’t leave your friends on a night out to go have potential make-up sex with your ex-fuck buddy, Lucy, that’s not happening. It’s a terrible idea, especially if you want something serious with him. Not to mention, it’s a complete violation of girl code!”
“And what would I say if I called him? Sorry I didn’t end my engagement for you, but I’m single and lonely now and I’m still in love with you,” Clearly the alcohol was starting to take effect because a) Lucy was ignoring Hermione and b) she couldn’t find it in herself to care that Honoria now knew what had happened.
“I missed you could be a good place to start,” Honoria smiled kindly, placing a shot glass in Lucy’s hand (when did she get those?) as she started dragging Hermione to the dance floor. “Go get your man back before someone else tries to make a move.”
- -
“I’m surprised you called.”
“I was surprised to get your text.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.” No.
“It sounds loud, wherever you are.”
“We’re in Annabel’s.”
“My new apartment isn’t too far from there.”
“You should text me the address.”
“You know what? Maybe I will.”
- -
The first thing Lucy did when the call ended was order an Uber.
This is a bad idea.
She went to the cloakroom, handed in her ticket and received her black jacket in return.
This is a bad idea.
Honoria, Hermione and Iris were still dancing. Cecily was in the corner snogging the face off some guy who didn’t look completely unlike the man Lucy was dying to see.
She knew Hermione would try to talk her out of leaving alone, or worse, suggest she leave too. She needed a quick escape.
She spotted Sarah waiting to order another drink.
“Tell Hermione I’m leaving now,” Lucy said to her.
“What? I can’t hear you. It’s too loud!” Sarah said, pointing at her ear.
“I said, I'm leaving now!” Lucy practically yelled at her, disappearing into the crowd before Sarah had a chance to respond.
This is a bad idea.
By the time she made it outside, the Uber was already waiting for her.
“You sure this is the right address, Miss? This place is just around the corner.”
This is a bad idea.
She read over the address he had texted her once more.
“I’m sure,” she replied.
Fuck it, it’s fine.
- -
“You look good, Lucy,” he said, making no attempt to hide the fact his eyes were trailing up and down her body. “You always do.”
“Are you going to let me come inside or not?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I’ve made it all this way after all.”
He snorted. “First of all, it’s less than a four minute drive from here to Annabel’s.”
He stood back from the door and opened it wide. “Secondly, darling, you won't be the only one coming inside tonight.”
She hated that she could feel herself blush.
It shouldn't have worked on her.
It was stupid and corny and cheesy and might even turn a few girls off.
But not her. Never her.
He held too much power over her.
He knew it too.
- -
Honoria had been right.
They didn’t do much talking.
They could do that in the morning.
But Lucy knew.
She knew from the look in his eye when she started to undress.
She knew from the way he said her name.
She knew from the way she made him fall apart.
He still loved her too.