Page 50 of Modern Romance July 2025 #4-8

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T HEY LANDED IN Ireland a week later. Theo had seen his father off, been relieved when there’d been no pregnancy announcements from Atlas and washed his thoughts of his father away.

He had a woman to marry. Which would mean charming her parents. Earning their support. He had no doubts this could be done in the course of twenty-four hours. Forty-eight if they were the stubborn sort like their daughter.

The Desmond Estate was exactly as he remembered it as the driver entered the gates. A lush kind of wealth settled deep into the fertile Irish ground, dotted by stately trees and ancient buildings.

But instead of heading up the main drive toward all that, the car took a left and drove out along the edges of a fence, for ages, until an array of agricultural buildings came into view.

They drove up to and then around them. Behind the pastures and stables and occasional horse next to a fence, settled back into a copse of trees, was a small house.

It was made of brick, certainly showed its age, and yet it had clearly been meticulously kept for decades if not longer.

As they approached, the pretty green door opened and out stepped a woman. She had black hair streaked with a steely gray. In just about every other way, aside from a few lines around the eyes, her face looked almost exactly like Rebecca’s.

A taller man with a slight stature came out next. He had a cap pulled low on his head, but he moved to stand next to the woman.

For a moment, Theo could only stare at them as though they were some fairyland creatures brought to life. But they were just two people. Standing in front of their home.

Nothing to feel strangely about. Certainly nothing intimidating.

The car had only just barely rolled to a stop when Rebecca flung her door open and all but leaped out. She jogged across the pretty yard as Theo stiffly exited the vehicle.

In no time at all, Rebecca had reached them and threw her arms around her mother. Her mother hugged her back tight. They swayed together, both talking over one another, and then laughing happily about it. Rebecca’s mother put her hands on Rebecca’s rounding stomach and beamed.

James Murphy, a name Theo only knew since Rebecca had informed him their son’s middle name would be James, crossed to Theo, hand outstretched.

“Mr. Nikolaou,” he greeted, in his thick Irish brogue. “Welcome to our home.”

“Please call me Theo, Mr. Murphy,” Theo said, fixing a smile on his face and offering a businessman’s shake. Because all in all, that’s all this was. A little bit of business. Win over the parents. Move forward with the wedding. Solidify his son’s future.

How hard could it be?

“Oh, sure, sure. And you’ll call me James.” He squeezed Theo’s hand once before dropping it. Then he gestured toward his wife. “This is Sharon.”

“So good to finally meet you,” she said. Her accent was softer, her expression cooler. The finally was pointed. But her smile was present so no one might have picked up on any minor hostilities if they weren’t looking. “You’ll both come in for some tea.”

It was not a request.

Mother and daughter linked arms, moving inside the house already chattering, and father followed. Theo knew he should, as well. He’d been invited in for tea. He had some charming to do.

But for a moment he couldn’t get his muscles to move. He watched the family disappear inside as a unit, and he knew he did not belong. He would never belong in such a scene.

But this mission was not about belonging. It was about ensuring what must be done. He could worry about creating that kind of familial warmth for his son once Rebecca married him.

Everything required one step at a time.

So he ducked in through the door, was met by warmth and charm and a coziness. These were not things he had a lot of experience with. It felt a bit like stepping into the beginning of a gauntlet. Except he had no idea what kind of beatings to expect.

Every room was small. He felt like an oversize ogre.

And still he was struck by how… something it all was.

He didn’t have the words for this. In many ways, it was not all that different from his own home—the walls and surfaces were decorated with antiques and items that clearly reflected the interest of the owners. Horses, mainly.

But there was a difference, because no doubt the violin hanging from a hook on the wall was not some collector’s item hunted down at auction, but a family heirloom. The needlepoint hanging in the dining room no doubt done by one of Rebecca’s relatives.

At his home, his things were not his. Not family heirlooms. Not items with stories that were his own. They were all collections. Things he was interested in, enjoyed, admired certainly. He supposed that was some element of personal .

But it didn’t feel like this. Perhaps a reflection of what he liked, but not a reflection of who he was.

He tried to shake that thought away, even as his gaze got caught up on a row of framed pictures hanging along the wall in a line.

Rebecca through the years—from a drooling baby to a school-age child with that same rich auburn hair, braided to hang at either shoulder, bright smile missing two teeth.

To a poised young woman, holding a ribbon and standing in equestrian dress in front of a horse.

He found himself unable to take his gaze off the tableau of Rebeccas, until Mrs. Murphy said his name and pointed him to a seat at a sturdy dining room table where everyone else had already arranged themselves.

Stiffly, feeling a bit like this was all an odd dream, Theo lowered himself into the seat next to Rebecca.

She was looking at him, and he expressly did not meet her gaze.

Until he had full control of these odd sensations rolling around inside him, he was not about to look at her and allow her to see it.

“We’re so pleased you’ve come for a visit. We’ve missed having our Becky about,” James said. He had a cheerful demeanor that should remind Theo of his own father, but it didn’t.

Because the humor wasn’t to bring attention to James. It was…something else entirely. Just…warmth.

Mrs. Murphy poured the tea into fussy cups—no doubt “the good china,” brought out for guests.

“You’ve been getting some sun,” she said to her daughter.

“Oh, yes. Theo and I take walks on the beach just about every day. It’s so pretty. Relaxing.”

“Relaxing is good,” James offered.

“Pregnancy is such an important time,” Sharon agreed. “You must make certain she’s taking care of herself, Theo. Our Rebecca has always liked to push the envelope.”

Theo had to clear his throat to find his voice. “I do try.”

Sharon nodded firmly in approval. “It’s the best any of us can do.”

They had a nice conversation over tea, though everything seemed to bring Rebecca and her father back to the topic of horses. Theo knew some about the animals, but clearly not enough to follow the conversation.

And even once they were done with tea, it seemed horses dominated everything. Rebecca grabbed him by the arm.

“I’m going to show Theo the horses,” she announced to her parents. “We’ll be back in a bit.”

She led him outside. “I thought the point of this visit was to get your parents’ approval on our marriage. Not…cavort with animals.”

She led him across the grassy yard. She tilted her head slightly, surveying him. “Are you afraid of horses, Theo?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Some people are, you know.”

“Good for them. I am not afraid of much, omorfiá mou .”

She laughed, the sound rich and bright in the afternoon sun.

He found himself mesmerized by how the red hints of fire teased out of her hair in the light.

The way she walked with a lightness in her step.

The excitement in her eyes as she dragged him into the stables and began to go down every stall and introduce him to each horse like they were people.

Throughout the day, and into the next, Theo came to a startling realization.

Rebecca was different here. With her parents. In her home. With her horses in the stables. Something in her…bloomed. She chattered. She smiled more. She laughed, a deep, husky one that matched her father’s.

He found himself existing in silences he never had before. Simply watching her, absorbing her.

Did she belong here?

It didn’t matter.

He had to see his plan through. Because his child would have both parents. They would be married.

And they would give their son everything.

Regardless of where anyone belonged .

It was so good to be home. Rebecca was surprised at how happy it made her. How fun it was to drag Theo around and show him all the different parts of her childhood.

Even so, with all the enjoyment and joy over being home, seeing her parents and so on, Rebecca wasn’t thinking about staying. About raising her son here.

She, in fact, couldn’t imagine it now, which shocked her. She could picture life with Theo and baby at the island in Greece, though, which made this visit feel like…a memory. Nostalgic, enjoyable, lovely even. Something she’d want her son to see , but not live.

She didn’t want to live in her room at the end of the hall. She didn’t want to wake up every morning and make breakfast in the cramped kitchen with her father grumbling over one of his puzzles while drinking his coffee before heading out to the horses.

She didn’t even want to find a place in town. As much as she’d love her parents closer, she didn’t want to call this place home anymore. It had become a place to visit, and that was strangely painful, even as it was freeing.

She tiptoed down the stairs first thing the second morning to potentially get started early on breakfast. She paused at the door to the room that her mother had put Theo in.

Unmarried guests certainly couldn’t share a bed under the Murphy roof, even if one of them was pregnant with the other one’s baby.