Page 51 of Modern Romance July 2025 #4-8

She could go in there now. See what he looked like sleeping on an old mattress, surrounded by her mother’s craft supplies and her father’s horse magazines and books.

She knew he’d wanted to stay in town, but her parents would have been offended, and while this was all a bit of a farce—she didn’t need her parents’ approval to marry Theo, or not, for that matter—that didn’t mean she wanted Theo to make a bad impression.

He hadn’t complained. He’d been…subdued, she decided. But she didn’t know what to make of that, so she continued downstairs. Disappointed if not surprised to see her mother had already beaten her there.

Sharon gave her a sharp look. “You should be getting more rest.”

This was another reason she was grateful for her time in Greece. Her mother’s worrying had been thousands of miles away. Rebecca understood it—Mom had suffered many pregnancy losses, and she couldn’t fault her mother for it, but she preferred not having to prove she was fine.

She walked over to Mam, reached out and grabbed her hands. She settled her mother’s hands over her belly. “I can feel him fluttering now and again. Not strong enough to feel from the outside, but he’s having a little blast in there.”

Mom’s smile curved. “You look healthy, I’ll give you that. And you’ll eat a good breakfast. Both of you.”

Both of you.

They hadn’t really had much time alone. Theo was usually about, so Rebecca couldn’t quite read what her parents felt about Theo. It was strange to realize she was a little nervous about it.

Because, of course, it didn’t matter. If she did marry him, which was a big if , it was only because… Well, she did want her child to have a solid foundation. She didn’t want to have to worry about two households and custody agreements.

But she worried that made her selfish.

“He is very polite,” Mom offered. She gave the porridge a stir, then began cracking eggs.

“Mam. That’s the blandest nice thing you could have possible said,” Rebecca replied, smiling. She moved to help with breakfast, taking a loaf of bread and beginning to slice it for toast.

“Well, he is ,” Sharon insisted. “He has a kindness to him, but it’s hidden deep down, under a very fine layer of manners.”

Kindness.

Rebecca had to admit she was relieved her mother saw it. Theo had been polite. He’d even had glimmers of being charming. But he was very quiet. He stayed back. She often felt him just… watching . A bit like a visitor at a zoo.

Intrigued, but not part of it. Faintly puzzled, but not enough to find out why .

“He is kind. I don’t think he’d ever describe himself as such. He fancies himself more big bad alpha boss who always does the correct thing, in the correct moment, to create the correct outcome.”

Mam chuckled. “Well, in that case, I can see why you are well suited.”

Well suited.

She hadn’t expected her mother to say that. “You can?”

“I realize losing your chance at the Olympics had you lose your grip on the reins a bit, dear, and this baby as well, but you are not so unlike what you just described. Determined to do what you think is right. To create an outcome that you want. You have always had intense focus and goals you refused to fail at reaching, no matter the fear you might have had in getting there. It’s what made you so good at your jumping events. ”

Rebecca realized her mother said all that in a past tense, and it hadn’t even caused a sharp, blinding pain like it might have a month or two ago.

She wouldn’t have been able to do her events pregnant anyway, so perhaps that’s what softened the blow. But Rebecca wasn’t sure. She thought maybe… Maybe she was learning to let that go, because her life had taken an interesting turn that she could not wish away.

No matter how frustrating Theo could be.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t really matter about suiting. He wants to get married for the baby’s sake. For foundations and stability . I can’t disagree with him that it would allow for both, but I still don’t know if it’s the right thing to do. Is it a stable foundation without love?”

Mom stopped what she was doing, stared at Rebecca for a good full minute.

“What?” Rebecca demanded.

“Rebecca, you are clearly in love with him,” Mam said, as if exasperated with her.

She wanted to argue with her mother, but she didn’t. Because sometimes she wondered if that’s exactly what she was. But…

“It just seems so convenient. To fall in love with him. To jump from loving Patrick to loving him in a blink.” She pulled a package of sausage from the refrigerator, the age-old dance of making breakfast together.

But she did not meet her mother’s gaze.

“Oh, a stór , you didn’t love Patrick.”

Mam said this as though it was some obvious, true fact.

“Of course I did. I was… Mam, I was going to marry him.”

“You were dazzled by Patrick, by how different he was than your life. And he was intrigued by you. But you both… I watched you both grow up, Rebecca. If his mother had not died when she had, if you had not been kind to him when everyone else around him had been drowning in grief, that boy would have never looked at you twice. And you would have realized it was nothing more than a dazzle. A crush. Patrick was an easy dream—Patrick the package, not Patrick the man.” She sighed.

“I mean no disrespect, but Patrick Desmond is a spineless lump of hash. He was never any match for you, darling. You liked the idea of the life he offered, not him .”

It hurt, and she didn’t think it would hurt if it wasn’t true. Patrick was a bit spineless. Not in a mean-spirited way. He just sort of…went along with what he was told to do. Rebecca had always kind of liked that. She had been in charge.

Until his father had swept in and determined whom he would marry. No doubt Patrick hadn’t even put up a fight. Maybe the thought shouldn’t depress her since her mother was not wrong . Marrying Patrick wouldn’t have given her what she wanted. But…

“Theo is rich. Maybe I’m dazzled by that package, too. An easy dream that we’ll have this boy and live happily ever after.”

Then her mother laughed. Just laughed . “I realize I do not know him as well as you do, but nothing about your Theo strikes me as easy . Certainly not spineless. Perhaps you are dazzled by his wealth, but that isn’t what I meant about Patrick.

I meant… You liked the idea of running things here.

” Mom gestured as if to encompass the Desmond Estate.

“You liked the picture of what your future might look like more than you liked the man himself. For who he was.”

Rebecca couldn’t find the words to disagree with that, but she just wasn’t convinced that wasn’t what she was doing with Theo.

After all, she’d known him for a short time.

And yes, she understood his childhood scars, wanted to help him find a way to heal them.

She enjoyed his dry humor and everything about the way they were together physically.

But did she know him? Could she live with a man so determined to do things only his own way? Could she love a man who didn’t believe in loving her back?

The answers were more complicated than yes or no and Rebecca hated that. The stairs creaked and the sound of Da and Theo’s voice wafted through the house. They both came into view, deep in conversation.

“The man has sorrow in his eyes,” Mom said quietly, leaning forward so only Rebecca would hear it. “Old sorrow. But it softens when he looks at you.”

Rebecca snorted. “Trust me, Theo does not love me. Likes me? Sure. Maybe. I guess. But he doesn’t believe in love.”

“Love doesn’t need to be believed in to exist.”

Rebecca looked back at the living room. Theo was listening along and nodding to whatever her father was speaking animatedly about—horses no doubt, but his gaze moved, met hers as her mother spoke.

“Sometimes, Rebecca, when someone has not been loved, they think it cannot exist. Not for them. But they’re always wrong,” Mam said, still quiet. “Many years ago, your father told me that.”

Rebecca’s gaze jerked to her mother. Mam did not often talk about her childhood.

Rebecca only knew what she did—that her grandfather had used his fists on his wife and children, that her grandmother had stayed because the alternative was abject poverty—from having overheard bits and pieces of conversations over the years when an aunt or uncle came to visit.

But Sharon Murphy did not discuss such hardships. Certainly not with her daughter. She never complained. She just didn’t bring it up.

So it was startling she would do so now.

“And he has proven it to me every day since,” Mam continued. “I had always hoped you would meet someone who would prove it to you, as well as I hope we have, but perhaps because we did, you can be the person to prove it to someone else.”

Mam reached out, brushed a hand over Rebecca’s hair, a rare expression of physical affection, though Rebecca had never once doubted her mother’s love and devotion to her. She knew she was her parents’ pride and joy.

She didn’t think she knew how to be so…strong. So determined. Yes, she’d once applied those things to her goals, but that had been…just her. It hadn’t rested on anyone else but her.

Still, she could hardly argue with her mother’s uncharacteristically vulnerable words. “Maybe,” she murmured, leaning into her mother for a moment.

She looked at Theo.

Maybe…