Page 47 of Modern Romance July 2025 #4-8

CHAPTER TWELVE

T HEO KEPT HER in his bedroom. Had all her things moved in. They didn’t discuss it. He was done discussing. He’d proved his point.

His way was best, and she would follow it and all would be well.

She didn’t mention Ireland again. Or leaving. She didn’t try to go back to the guest bedroom or argue with him. Theo saw that night as a turning point to getting her to understand that moving forward, they would follow his will.

He took her lack of argument as agreement. What else would it be?

And since he did, he allowed her rather invasive questions about his childhood, his business, his likes and dislikes . He told stories about boarding school, or his early business exploits.

He did not delve into his father’s many marriages no matter how she poked or prodded. He did not discuss his relationships or lack thereof with the women his father had brought into their home. And he did not discuss his mother’s identity.

But he listened to all her stories. About her childhood, her parents, training for the Olympics.

He filed away every detail, for the most part, but anytime she brought up her injury, he found himself withdrawing.

He could not countenance her pain , her loss .

It churned something within him he did not want to feel.

So he never allowed her to get past the initial moment when she’d realized the horse would not make the jump.

If she found this irritating, she did not mention it. In fact, she rarely mentioned any irritations. This also left him on a strange kind of…edge. Always a little unsure if he’d done something wrong.

But she came to his bed every night. She kept meals with him, conversed. Nothing was wrong, so he did not understand why it felt like he was walking on eggshells.

When the doctor came for the appointment, complete with scanning equipment that would allow them to determine gender, they had a pleasant appointment. The doctor genial and efficient, answering all of their questions.

Once she had Rebecca settled into a bed, a little wand settled over her ever-growing belly, the doctor made humming sounds as a black static appeared on a monitor she’d brought in. Theo stood next to his bed, watching the monitor with his breath caught in his throat.

What would he see? What would the doctor find? How did one handle this kind of unknown, uncontrollable question mark of a future?

“Well, you are very clearly having a boy.” The doctor smiled at both of them. “From what I can see, everything is measuring as it should. Our due date is right on target.”

He felt something grip his hand. Rebecca. She’d reached out, curled her fingers around his. Her gaze was on the screen, but she’d reached out to him.

He barely felt the pressure of her squeezing his hand. He had not really thought in…realities. He’d been so focused on the practicalities. On how to set up his child’s life how he wanted, how would be best , he had not considered…

A boy. He was to be the father of a boy.

Whatever eggshells or edges he’d been walking along now felt like a razor-sharp cliff.

“I’ll have the images emailed to you,” the doctor was saying as she began to pack up the equipment.

“I’ll want to see you again in a month, Rebecca.

But should any questions or concerns arise, don’t hesitate to contact me.

” She turned to Theo. “Mr. Nikolaou. Congratulations. I can see myself out if you two would like to have some time alone to digest.” Her smile was kind.

Her words felt like they were spoken in a foreign language. And then she was gone. So he was left with Rebecca and a looming sense of…doom.

“Now we can consider names.”

“Names.” He felt as if the entire world around him was echoing information he couldn’t possibly process.

“I already have a middle name picked out,” she said, as if this new information changed nothing for her.

She had adjusted her shirt back into place and was sliding out of bed as easy as you please.

“James. After my father. That’s a non-negotiable for me, but we can decide on a first name we both agree on. ” She turned and aimed a smile at him.

A name. For a boy. His boy.

“Had you thought of any?” she asked, still so casual and easy as you please.

“Any?” His voice felt like sharp knives against his throat.

“Names, Theo. Perhaps you’d like a junior situation.” She turned to study herself in the mirror, fixed her hair. “Or just Theodorou James. It sounds kind of nice. We could call him TJ.”

“No.” His voice was little more than a rasp. His heartbeat was echoing too loudly in his ears, and he wasn’t sure the breath he took actually brought in any oxygen. He did not understand what was happening to his body. He only knew that… Everything was wrong.

Him. A boy. A baby boy. His baby boy. Their baby boy.

Rebecca crossed to him, concern in those blue eyes of hers. Maybe he was drowning in that ocean reflected there. Maybe this was all her fault. Whatever was happening to him.

“Theo. Are you all right?”

“Of course,” he rasped.

“You seem…panicked.”

The word got through to him if nothing else did. He straightened, cleared his throat, and demanded his breathing to even as he took a decided step away from the hand she’d put over his arm. “I’m not panicked .”

“It’s okay, you know. I feel panicked out of nowhere about it all the time.” She lifted a hand casually. “Being parents is a pretty major undertaking. I think it’s okay to feel overwhelmed by everything we don’t know.”

“I am not panicked. I am not overwhelmed. We have the books to tell us what to do. We know everything we need to know, or we will.”

She cocked her head to one side, studying him.

“It’s okay not to know things. It’s, in fact, impossible to know everything.

You know, when I was talking to my mom last night and she was telling me how that worry about doing right by your child never goes away.

I was actually kind of comforted by that, because if she—”

“We will know what is right for our child, and we will do it. Always.” This was the very bare minimum of what he demanded of himself. Of her. For her to suggest otherwise was…appalling.

She kept studying him, but she did not argue with him any further. No doubt she understood that he was right. That they would be better than worry . Than not being sure.

Certainty got a person through everything. Determining what was right and making it happen was the only way to survive.

“If you’re…struggling with everything, Theo, I can always go back to Ireland and give you some space for a while.”

It snapped something within him. Oh, there was no panic now. Only a fury he would need to pound away downstairs with his boxing equipment. “You are not going back to Ireland. Ever.”

Her expression shuttered. Cooled. “Theo. I have compromised more than I am comfortable thinking about. I have given you everything you demanded. Everything.”

“Because it is right.”

“No, because… Well, for a lot of reasons. But I will go back to Ireland. For visits. If I decide I’d like to move back.

I am willing to give you, this— us time.

I have come around to be willing to see how this goes, but I am not willing to go along thinking that you can always just…

announce things and they will be so. I will go to Ireland if I damn well please. ”

It was her burst of temper that had him fully realizing just how much he’d lost control of the moment. Of himself.

He had leaned into compromise. He had gotten her to stay, but he had not pushed for marriage.

He had been so happy with one tiny victory, he had forgotten about the whole damn war.

He had not insisted on what was necessary.

On the certainty and legalities of joining their lives and creating the foundation for their child.

What a mistake.

But before he could lash out, a knock sounded at the door. He stormed over to it, growled on opening.

His butler stood there, looking less placid than usual. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Nikolaou. And I am very sorry.”

“For what?” Theo demanded.

“Your father… He is here.”

“Here?”

“Apparently they are staying for the weekend.”

Theo’s expression darkened. His temper chewed at the leash he was barely keeping tethered. “They.”

“Yes. Mr. and Mrs. Nikolaou are here to visit for the weekend. I tried to tactfully explain to them this was not something we had planned for, but…”

Yes, Theo knew what the but would be. His father’s inability to recognize when he wasn’t welcome. Inability or refusal to.

But it gave Theo something else to think about other than names, and the idea of Rebecca going back to Ireland. The wedding he had not insisted upon that would now need to be expedited.

So, he wasn’t sure if it was the best possible time or the worst for his father’s appearance. But it didn’t matter, because it was reality. And Theo was damn well going to deal with it.

Rebecca had an interesting view of Theo’s profile from where she stood in the room. She watched as a million emotions crashed over his usually unreadable face.

He had been panicked, whether he was willing to admit it or not.

And his response to panic was to double down on control.

She’d seen this play out over the past few weeks.

She liked to think that the whole time had been a learning experience.

The whole point of staying, of acquiescing, was to understand .

Every time she thought she was coming close to fully understanding him, predicting his reactions and moods, something new came along.

Because while she’d seen him lean on control like a crutch, she hadn’t seen him do…

this , though. Growl at the staff. Have fury, frustration and hurt chase through his dark eyes before acceptance settled there.