"You wanna know why marriage is such hard work for women? Because you guys have to do EVERYTHING. Society still expects wives to do the majority of the cooking, cleaning, child rearing, and so on. But by far the most tiring part of that labour is the emotional labour. It's usually up to the woman to "keep it all together" and organize events and trips for the family. It's work, Kate; it's all work. I'd rather see you work hard and get somewhere in life. Use that energy to do something productive, like get a PhD. Anyone can get into a labour-demanding relationship, but not everyone can turn that personal fortitude outside of themselves.

As for me, I learned from my mistakes. I left too much up to your mom; I drained her dry. But I vowed the day she left that I'd never do that to you or Edwina. I'm your dad; it's time I grow up and do the emotional labour for this family for once. I will NEVER make you feel that way, sweetheart.

I've learned, and I'll carry that burden for all of us."

Storming out of my room in nothing but a long nightshirt and housecoat, I marched down the hall to who knows where. I didn't care personally where I was going in that instant- I just needed to get away from Edwina for a while. What she said about Daddy, the way she blamed him for Mom leaving US- as in the "three" of us- infuriated me to no end. Daddy was precious to me. Sure, he said some things you probably shouldn't say to an impressionable young girl, but he did his best. He wasn't a flawless husband or father, but who is? Mom's abandonment destroyed him. She never paid him any child support nor bothered to visit us; I never saw her again after Edwina was born. But I do remember- vividly- Daddy picking up the pieces as fast as he could and giving us the best life he was able to. If that's not love, I don't know what is. Edwina doesn't realize that no man, no person will ever sacrifice as much for us as he did, and for her to say such things about him… Ugh! He didn't raise her to be like that!

In a fit of rage, I continued down the hallway until I finally reached a door. It was one of those old, dark oak wood doors; a really thick and heavy one. Listening for a second, I couldn't hear anything inside, so I turned the knob. My intention was to get in a room somewhere just in case any of the Bridgertons came down the same hall to accidently see me in a flood of hot tears like this. The door opened, and I crept inside, carefully shutting it behind me. Without thinking about it, my hand instinctively reached over to flick on a light.

"Hold on a minute. Kate?!" Of course…. My head shot to the side where there was a large desk with a lamp on it. To my horror, Anthony was sitting there with his phone in his hand. Someone was on the other end; I could tell by the screen. He looked equally as shocked to see me. Feeling suddenly really embarrassed, my one hand grabbed the side of my arm as I turned to go. "I-I'm sorry," my voice was quieter and shakier now.

Anthony stood up from his chair. "Wait, Kate! Hold on!" He called out to me before bringing his phone back up to his ear. "Yes, hello? I'm sorry; I'll have to call you back," a moment of silence proceeded while I assumed the person on the other end said something. Whatever he said it must have been bad since Anthony's eyebrows furrowed angrily. "I know we had an appointment scheduled, but this is important! I'll phone you back in a few minutes!" Then he hung up, both dumbfounding and alarming me… and also making me secretly super elated. Anthony was so strict with appointment times. For him to cancel one mid-session was something…

Something good, I couldn't help but feel.

Setting his phone down onto his desk, he rounded it to come racing over to me by the door. His eyes examined my face with complete and utter worry now. His arms extended upward but didn't actually grab me- yet. His jaw hung open as his breathing quickened.

"What's wrong? Why'd you come here?" His tone was frantic. I shook my head, still embarrassed, and glanced down at my bare feet. "I-I'm sorry; I didn't know this was your office," was the only explanation I could come up with. His eyes widened a little, clearly concerned. "Have you been crying?!" My fingers clenched into fists. "Mmmmmmm, i-it's ok." "It's not ok! What's happened? Are you alright? Did someone say something to you? Did anything happen?" That chaotic, worried tone of his….. My lips pressed together ashamed. "I-It's nothing. Edwina and I just had…. a little argument, that's all. It's alright; I'm just being stupid," I gave a false single laugh.

Anthony's expression remained entirely unphased. It my turn to enlarge my eyes when his hands gently grabbed my shoulders all of a sudden. He stepped beside me, putting his hands on me with such tenderness and began to lead me further into the room. When he spoke again his tone was much calmer and more reassuring. "You're not being stupid. Come, sit over here," he guided me over to the sofa in front of the fireplace. My mind was in a stupored state as he laid me down by my shoulders; I was able to rest my head onto an oversized pillow at one end. Once he was sure I was sitting and comfy, he pulled out a fluffy blanket and wrapped me tightly into a blanket cocoon. My eyes didn't leave him, couldn't leave him as he secured it in place with his fingers, effectively tucking me in.

After I was all cosy on the couch, the viscount went over to the fireplace to turn it on. The heat felt so good on my still-moist cheeks. The last thing Anthony did was move the table in front of the sofa out of the way so I could feel the fire without delay or interruption. The fireplace was in my direct line of vision now….. But I wasn't looking at it.

Once the table was slid off to the side, Anthony returned to my side, kneeling down to be at eye level with me. His broad, strong hand reached up to rest over top of my head; his fingers pressed lightly into the strands of my hair. He seemed much calmer currently, as did I. "Are you alright?" He eventually asked after a second, to which I meekly nodded. His thumb ran along my hair line as he flashed me a kind smile. As I kept staring into his deep eyes, this familiar, nostalgic emotion began to override me. This was something I hadn't felt in years…. not since Daddy died. It was the feeling of being taken care of, remembering what it was like to be looked after by another. Ever since Daddy passed, it was me who was in charge of everything and everyone. I made sure that other people were ok; I made sure that Edwina was ok. It was always me doing things for another…. Somehow without my ever knowing, I'd done what Daddy's always feared I'd eventually do. I'd taken on the emotional labour, the emotional burden of the Sharma family. It was all up to me until now, but who was there to look out for me? Who was there to make sure I was alright as well?

Anthony didn't say anything when a new batch of tears dribbled down my cheeks onto the pillowtop. I think he realized that these were happy tears, or at least not sad ones. He merely continued to smile and stroke my head which such tenderness and comfort, that I thought my heart might stop.

But all good things must come to an end. "Anthony! Anthony Bridgerton!" Violet's angry voice echoed from down the hall. All the gentleness from his expression evaporated as he huffed and rolled his eyes, though still keeping his hand on my head. "You want to explain to me why our solicitor just called me saying you blew him off?! Anthony?! Anthony!" "Nugh, it never ends….." He hissed under his breath, glaring downwards for a moment. Then he peered back up toward me with more kindness, relaxing the lines on his face slightly.

"Stay in here as long as you want. I'll probably be dealing with this for the rest of the night, but you'll be alright on your own? Do you want me to get Daphne in here?" "No, I'll be ok," I smiled so earnestly just then, lowering my eyes affectionately… He returned my smile, finally removing his hand off my head. But that grin immediately disappeared as he stood up, straightening his shirt. Grumbling to himself, he exited the room, leaving me laying there in front of the fire in my little blanket cocoon. Grinning ear-to-ear in a state of unexpected bliss, I nuzzled down into the pillow and soaking in the warmth from the fireplace. No one had treated me like that since Daddy died….. and I'd forgotten how good it can feel being on the receiving end of emotional labour and care.

I knew Anthony must have been still worried about me throughout the rest of the evening. Every couple of hours or so- maybe even less- he'd have a butler come bring me a hot chocolate, or mixed-berry tart, or cup of tea with biscuits. They never said that Anthony sent them, or that this was his idea, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. I knew they were reporting back to him…

And I hadn't felt this way since I was eighteen years old.