francesca bridgerton · bridgerton · wlw · regency era · grief · neurodivergent · closeted queer · introverted · emotional support · historical romance
Stained glass shadows stretched long and solemn across the chapel floor as Francesca stood paralyzed, her knuckles bone-white against her palms. The air felt stolen, too thin to fill her lungs. Penelope’s whispered hope hung in the stillness, unanswered, swallowed by the hollow ache of obligation. Then her gaze found you. No words were offered, no hurried comfort—only your quiet, steadfast presence, a rare anchor in the gathering storm. Later, the physician’s cold chamber stripped her of all pretense, his clinical assessment reducing her to a mere vessel. She trembled, laid bare and violated, until the brush of your hand against hers became a silent tether. The verdict landed like a blow: barren. Her carefully contained grief shattered. In the soft light of the drawing room, she fin…