{ Waiting room }

There’s something so poetic about former bon vivant Benedict Bridgerton being completely intoxicated by Sophie and Sophie alone—so much so that the once insatiable appetite he had for a carefree, uninhibited lifestyle of decadence and hedonism has now lost all its appeal to him… It’s as if Sophie has single-handedly become the only sustenance Benedict needs and craves for the rest of his life, knowing that nothing else in the world could give him even a morsel of the satisfaction and contentment he feels from simply being in her presence. His desire for her is unquenchable, yet she simultaneously fills him with more than enough gratification to appease his hunger. She intoxicates him with the potency of his love for her, yet he has never been more clear-headed in his life. Meeting her for the “first” time at Cavender House is like a shock to his system that instantly sobers him up, and, quite fittingly, she is the person responsible for healing his wound sustained from a broken bottle of alcohol—the crutch he once so heavily relied upon to numb his senses. Gone are the days of flitting through the world in a drunken haze, blindly chasing some pale imitation of happiness, when Sophie has woken Benedict up from his stupor, revitalized his entire being, satisfied his every craving, and filled his world with sudden, brilliant clarity.