Page 55 of Modern Romance July 2025 #4-8

Weeks went by like this and she let it. She didn’t know what else to do but give it time.

She supposed she could leave him, but that felt counterproductive.

He’d already been left—by his own mother, by any of the women that had come into his father’s life, and in a way, Atlas had left him, too. To fend for himself as a young boy.

Leaving would not prove her point, but as the wedding approached, she was no closer to determining what would.

Her parents arrived. Atlas and Ariana arrived. The four could not have been more different, and yet they got on well. Rebecca watched it with some amusement. Theo did nothing but scowl.

Then, she woke up alone on her wedding day. She had not gone to bed that way. But there was no time to dwell on it. People swept in to begin getting her ready for the afternoon wedding.

Once her hair was done, her makeup applied, the dress pulled on, Rebecca surveyed herself in the full-length mirror while her mother sat off to the side watching her.

Rebecca smoothed her hands over the pretty dress and the ever-widening baby bump.

She knew she looked pretty, and yet she didn’t feel excited.

She wanted to. Wanted to enjoy today. Wanted to believe that she could find a way to reach Theo, and that agreeing to marry him was a necessary part of that.

Still, she wasn’t nervous. More resigned. Determined maybe.

Mom came to stand behind her, brushed lint that wasn’t there off the pretty silken flutter sleeve.

“Are you sure?” Sharon asked.

She met her mother’s gaze in the mirror, lifted her chin.

Because maybe she wasn’t excited or nervous or even happy, but she was sure.

Maybe she’d taken a page out of Theo’s book.

This was what was right, so she’d see it through.

“Yes. He needs this. I won’t be able to get through to him until all his plans are in place. ”

“And once they are?”

“He’ll have to deal with love.”

Mam’s other hand came up to her other shoulder. She gave Rebecca a gentle squeeze. “And if he doesn’t?”

“I don’t give up, Mam.”

Not until bones get crushed, anyway.

But she didn’t want her mother worrying about how she might get crushed.

One thing Rebecca had learned that she did not think her parents understood—at least when extended to her —was that losing her Olympic dreams had taught her something.

You could be crushed and keep going. You could be crushed and find something new and wonderful in the rubble.

She couldn’t see a way forward that wasn’t trying to make this work.

She didn’t want to be at odds with him, constantly trying to run away from his focused machinations to make everything right.

At least here, in the circle of his plans, she was with him. She had some chance to get through to him.

She placed a hand to the side of her stomach, where a twinge of pain accompanied a kick. She decided to take it as approval from baby. Why not?

They married in an old chapel that had been abandoned since before Theo had bought the island, but he’d had it meticulously renovated and brought back to life.

He had determined they would be married here, their child would be christened here, and Rebecca had loved the idea that he would create a sacred place, a place of good things and memory, just for their family.

Because that’s what they were and would be, once he accepted love.

And he would.

She walked the aisle on her father’s arm. She could tell from her parents’ quiet that they weren’t quite approving . It was how they’d been when she spoke of marrying Peter. Never quite approving .

But they supported her. And even if it all went terribly wrong, they would be there to support her with no recriminations.

It wouldn’t go wrong. She wouldn’t let it.

She met Theo at the end of the aisle, beamed at him. His expression was guarded. Maybe there was even a little tension around his mouth. But he took her arm as they turned to face the officiant.

The man spoke of love and duty. Marriage as sacred. He had them exchange rings, light a candle, and then blessed them both for a happy future. When he committed them as husband and wife, extended the invitation to kiss the bride, Rebecca turned to Theo.

He was so handsome, even stern and detached. But that was a sign in and of itself. He was holding something back.

Still, he lowered his head to dutifully kiss his wife.

“I love you,” she murmured, before pressing her mouth to his. Because when he looked back on today, he would not get to pretend she was here for any other reason but love.

They proceeded to a nice dinner out on the terrace with her parents and his father and Ariana.

Atlas and James were jovial, Ariana and Sharon a little more reserved.

Rebecca was even more convinced that Ariana was pregnant considering the very loose dress she’d chosen, but she didn’t think today was the time to bring it up to Theo.

There was a stillness to him. An alarming finality to the way he moved and spoke. After everyone had retired for the evening, the fathers a little heavy in the drink, Rebecca turned her attention to their wedding night.

When they entered their bedroom—because it had been theirs for almost two months now—she expected him to cross to her.

Kiss her. Take the dress off her and take her to bed.

She didn’t think her expectations could be that far off.

Obviously she wasn’t expecting declarations of love or an invitation to have a conversation. That would come later.

But he didn’t even look at her.

Instead, he crossed to the closet and rolled a suitcase out.

Confused, Rebecca frowned at it and him. “I didn’t think we were taking a honeymoon.”

“We are not. Now that we are married, I will return to Athens.”

She didn’t really want to go to Athens, but… He’d said I . “Wh…? Wait. What?”

“I will attend my business there until the child is born. You may stay here. You may stay at my estate outside of the city. If you wish to go to Ireland, I’ll have to insist you take Dr. Doukas with you and return before travel is risky. My child will be born here.”

She couldn’t find her words, not for full, quiet minutes as he gathered his things.

Gathered his things to leave . Leave her.

Right after their wedding. It made absolutely no sense, and maybe that’s why she said something she would have been better off keeping to herself if she wanted to keep her pride.

“And if I want to stay with you?”

“That is not possible.”

“Why not?”

He moved for the door. “I have created the environment I want for our child. It does not require us to be together before he arrives, and I have much work to catch up on.”

Hurt twined inside her, making it hard to breathe. But she had to see through her own surprise and pain and see this for what it was, even when her eyes filled with tears.

He was running .

“It doesn’t change anything,” she told him, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. “I’ll still love you. It’ll still be there when you come back to be a father. You can run away from it for this little time between now and then, but it changes nothing.”

He didn’t even look at her. “Believe in love if you wish. Love me if you must. But these things are irrelevant to me. They are irrelevant to the choices we must make for our child. Someone will contact me once you go into labor.”

One tear slipped over. She couldn’t stop it. He sounded so cold. So sure. Maybe she…had misread everything. Maybe she didn’t understand him at all.

“I won’t…live like this.” She could hear the panic and desperation in her own voice, but this wasn’t…

This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t what she’d expected.

She needed time. Time with him to change his mind, to open him up.

So she lashed out with the only weapon she had.

“I won’t stay married to you like this.”

He didn’t even look back as he strode out the door. “Yes, you will.”