Page 53 of Modern Romance July 2025 #4-8

But he’d spent four days in her parents’ home. He hadn’t voiced one complaint. She said she needed her parents’ approval. He’d earned it.

He didn’t have to do that if all he cared about was the baby. Just like he wouldn’t be concerned by her tears earlier, if he did not care.

She wondered if he’d ever cared about anyone after his parents, or if he’d cut himself off even then. A young boy, abandoned by his mother, none of his emotional needs met by his father or any subsequent stepmother.

No, she didn’t think he’d ever put himself out there after that. Which meant she had years and layers of protection to fight her way through. A daunting task. But she ate the nuts, drank her soda and let him usher her to the ferry.

She would fight for him. For the little boy, and the man he’d become. So that their little boy could have everything. Not just the stability Theo thought marriage would magically bring, but the real point of having married parents.

Two people in a partnership to lead a child through the first eighteen years of life in the presence of love, compromise, compassion and joy.

They didn’t talk as they took the ferry over to the island, the drive up the house. Rebecca was still trying to determine how she got through to the old broken heart inside the hard-shelled man when they walked into the house.

She stopped abruptly as she felt a strange pang inside. Not a pain. Movement, she realized. Harder movement than she was used to. She reached out to grip Theo. Not because she needed balance, but because she needed to hold on to something.

She could have sworn she felt a hard jab, right there against the inside of her stomach.

“What is it?” Theo demanded, worry in his expression.

“Oh, the baby kicked. But… I think you might be able to…” She trailed off, reached for his hand and pressed it firmly against her ever-expanding middle. “Did you feel that?” she asked, as their son rolled about in her stomach.

Theo frowned darkly. “No.”

“Hold on. Be patient.” So they stood, her hand pressing his into the side of her stomach where she thought he might actually be able to feel it from the outside.

Minutes passed and she was about to give up when she felt a light little jab and Theo’s hand jerked, then pressed back to her stomach. “I… I felt it,” he rasped.

She watched his face. The awe in it. That slight flicker of trepidation she felt anytime the whole baby thing felt overwhelming.

But it didn’t right now. It felt like they were in this together. It felt like… She knew he would be a good father. Oh, he would make mistakes, and he would struggle with that. He did not have her own father’s easygoing demeanor, that was for sure.

But he wanted, so badly, for their child to have the good he did not have. It made her heart swell, her eyes fill. How much he wanted to give his child. And her, whether he wanted to admit that to himself or not.

Maybe she was delusional. Maybe his care extended to her because she carried his son, but she didn’t think so. From the first moment they’d spoken, something had sparked between them. Souls…recognizing each other.

Her mother, the most practical woman she’d ever known, believed in things like that. Why shouldn’t she?

She loved Theo. It swept through her in every quiet moment, in the four days he’d spent with her parents, in their passionate evenings and calm, cozy dinners.

Loving him had nothing to do with Patrick or money or even this baby. The baby had just allowed her to see beneath that heavy armor Theo carried over himself, forever trying to shape the world around him into something that wouldn’t hurt those old, vulnerable wounds.

She wanted to soothe them, love them, find ways to heal them as they raised their son together. She wanted…him, a life with him. That stability he was militant about giving their child, but with the safety net of all this love she had underneath it.

As if he could read her thoughts and they made him uneasy, he stepped back, let his hand fall. “Movement is good, I have read.”

“Yes. I can feel a lot more than you can feel from the outside, but the books all say it gets stronger. You’ll be able to feel all sorts of kicks—feet, knees, elbows.”

He said nothing for a while, then turned. “We should get you off your feet.” He moved to her again, took her arm by the elbow, like she needed to be guided carefully up the stairs.

She decided to let him. Figured it settled him to feel in control. He took her up to the bedroom, then nudged her into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

For a quiet moment, they only regarded each other. Then he stepped back. Away. He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Did your parents let you know they gave their blessing?” he asked. His gaze was on his phone, no doubt checking business emails and the like, but she got the sense he was holding himself very still as if guarding for an attack.

“They did.”

He lifted his dark, haunted gaze. “Then we shall be married. Soon.”

He said this like a challenge.

“Are you sure that’s what you want, Theo? Because you will be well and truly stuck with me then.”

“I have no intention of changing my mind. This is the right course of action.”

She looked up at him and then she knew what must be done. She couldn’t be afraid. She couldn’t wade through a million what-ifs or insecurities. She had to be bold. She had to make sure her wants and needs existed in this space, too.

She wasn’t going along this time. She wasn’t fighting him, either. She was just going to stand her ground, in her own space, and not let him control everything . Certainly not her feelings.

“The right course of action,” she repeated carefully, as if mulling it over. “Maybe it is. But there’s one very important fact you don’t know that you should before you start making any plans.”

“Nothing will change my mind, Rebecca.”

“All right, try this. I’m in love with you.”