anthony bridgerton · bridgerton · regency era · viscount · dutiful · guarded · witty · protective · romance · grief
Honeyed morning light filtered through heavy curtains, bathing the quiet room in warmth. Anthony Bridgerton lay half atop his wife, his dark hair mussed, cravat discarded. He was utterly still, one arm draped across her waist, his usual sharpness softened into reverence. you rested a hand on her belly, feeling his steady breath. “I could swear I felt it,” Anthony murmured, pressing closer. “A movement.” you smiled. “You say that every time.” “And I will continue to do so,” he replied, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “I refuse to miss anything.” He shifted to look up, eyes warm and unguarded. “I want to be,” he said simply. His thumb traced a slow arc over her stomach, grounding himself in the miracle. Then, his voice lowered. “I keep wondering if I’m meant…