Page 87 of Modern Romance March 2025 (5-8)

Rafe’s eyes land back on me. “Just the one kiss?”

“Just the one,” I reply with a small smile. “It doesn’t even begin to compare to the kiss he gave Juliette on their wedding day.” My smile dims. “I’m surprised he didn’t tell me. That it was all for the will.”

Rafe looks at me for a long moment. “He was in a hard place. Judging by the last time we spoke, his marriage is no longer just for the inheritance.”

I blink at him in surprise. “Are you defending him?”

He arches a brow. “You sound surprised.”

“It just… I know you two never had the best relationship.”

“We never had a relationship at all.” Rafe’s smirk is cold, bloodless. “As I’m sure he told you.”

I don’t bother denying that Gavriil has vented to me on numerous occasions about his brother. But I also think Gavriil got at least some of it wrong. There’s a reason lurking somewhere in the past, something that made Rafe turn away.

“At least he had you.” Rafe gives a slight shake of his head. “Never a friendship I would have imagined.”

I think back to the first moment I met Gavriil as he’d leaned over the low-slung stone wall, golden brown hair falling over pale blue eyes, and asked why I was in a wheelchair. His bluntness had been refreshing compared to my coddled existence.

“Gavriil was the first person to ask what happened to me.”

A furrow appears between Rafe’s brows. “That was a positive experience for you?”

“It was then. Even now, it just depends on the day. Sometimes I don’t mind answering questions. Other times it’s hard. But back then…” I pick up my wineglass and gently swirl it. “It was like everyone just pretended like we were normal. Like I wasn’t in a wheelchair or going to see a physical therapist. Your brother walked right up to me and said, ‘Why are you in a wheelchair?’”

Rafe makes a huffing noise that sounds almost like a laugh. “Not surprising.”

“He wasn’t being rude or mean. We were kids. He just wanted to know. He was the first person, aside from my sister, who saw that I was different and didn’t either make fun of me or pretend like everything was just fine.”

Rafe is quiet as James comes out and delivers our main course: freshly caught fish drizzled with butter sauce and served on a bed of fingerling potatoes.

“May I ask what did happen?”

I pause with a fork full of fish halfway to my mouth.

“You don’t have to answer.”

“No,” I agree, “I don’t. Before we move to Greece, we lived in Ireland. My father was working for a real estate firm. Slowly climbing his way up. I vaguely remember my parents arguing about moving to Greece. My mom didn’t want to leave her family, his family, the area they grew up in. It didn’t help, too, that my mom was home with Katie and me. I remember her being tired all the time. Tired and sad because my father was gone a lot trying to convince my grandfather and aunt to promote him.” My throat tightens. “There was a day my father went into Dublin for a meeting. Katie was up a lot the night before. Normal toddler stuff, nothing dramatic. My mother was exhausted. I wanted to go out and play. She asked me to wait, to just give her a couple hours to sleep.”

I can still remember my frustration, indignation that I was once again waiting for my mom to stop messing with my baby sister or get up from a nap. I feel it as though I’m there right now in the living room, watching her quietly snore on the couch as I creep past.

The guilt is also fresh, just as bitter and heavy as it was twenty-one years ago when I woke up in the hospital and realized my family’s lives had been changed forever.

“We lived on the edge of a moor. It was beautiful. This endless expanse of grass and shrubs. That day it was misty. I pretended like fairies were lurking in the mist. I wanted to go out and walk along the stone wall that ran along the back of our property.

“I can still remember climbing up on the wall, holding my arms out as I placed one foot in front of the other. A big girl, navigating the wall on her own. I slipped. I only fell about ten feet. But I sustained an injury to my spinal cord. One that left me partially paralyzed below the waist. I’m fortunate to have as much control and feeling as I do.”

Silence falls. Rafe is watching me with that cold, dark gaze. Except the longer I stare, the more I see. The slightest softening of his eyes. A tensing of his full lips. A touch of pallor beneath his golden skin.

“I’m sorry, Tessa.”

I breathe in deeply, knots of tension loosening as I accept a rare gift of compassion from my husband. “Thank you. I don’t remember much of my life before the accident, so it’s been a part of me for so long that most days, I don’t think about it. But my parents do. Ever since that day, nothing has ever been the same.”

Suddenly aware of the depth of what I’ve revealed, I start to say something, anything to relieve the tension. But the shrill ring of Rafe’s phone saves me from having to come up with something. He glances at the screen and frowns.

“Excuse me.”

He steps away. I let out a harsh breath before taking a long sip of wine. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his lips thin, his face tighten. Even if he doesn’t carry the same personal passion that Gavriil does for Drakos Development, the company is still his first priority. A good thing to remember and motivation for me to guard my heart.

---