Page 57 of Modern Romance Collection March 2025 (1-4)

Athan wasn’tkeepingher, but he supposed he didn’t need to make that distinction to Rhys just now. “And what of your father’s name?”

“I don’t care about my father’s name. I don’t care about your money or influence. I will build my own, on no one else’s sacrifice.”

Rhys did not say this with bitterness, but because Aled Carew’s name meant so much to Lynna, it was a shock, and a painful one, to hear Rhys dismiss their father’s legacy so simply.

“Your father was a good man. A good father.”

“I know. Lynna has made certain I know. But he was not a good father to her in his final days. Or the good husband he’d been to my mother. They think I was too young to understand, and maybe in some ways I was, but I have seen it clearly since. Lynna idolized him. And even in his final mistakes, he was not a bad man. But he had failed her. At, I think, the worst time.”

Athan could not help but think how adamant she’d been today. That he’d been a boy. That his parents had failed him. He knew she had not wanted to absolve him of anything ever, but her sense of fairness had not allowed for anything else.

Maybe she had balked at the comparison of his parents to hers, and maybe it hadn’t been fully fair, but it was not…unfair. It was notwrong. Lynnahadbeen failed.

If her brother would say it, how could he think differently?

“When my father died,” Rhys continued, “I was too young. To understand, to feel betrayed. Mother and Lynna had to deal with the reality of not just losing someone they loved but losing their image of him. I only lost a father. They lost…a world.”

It was very thoughtful and insightful for a nineteen-year-old. “Lynna mentioned you were brilliant.”

His grin was a flash, quick and handsome. No doubt on the cusp of devastating once he grew into his shoulders, his face. “I cannot disagree.” Then the smile died and he sighed. “I care nothing for the past you’re all embroiled in. So I came here to tell Lynna that. To stop this ridiculousness and divorce you immediately. Since she isn’t here, I’ll tell you. It ends. Now.”

Athan felt an odd twin surge of emotion—on opposite ends of a spectrum. On the one hand, no one ordered him around. Rhys did not get to swoop in and end things—regardless of whether Lynna and he had done that already.

But there was a little swell of something like pride or relief, that Lynnadidhave someone in her corner willing to fight for her. Even if it was a bit too late for all this bluster.

“I am afraid that what Lynna decides to do is up to her. But if it comforts you any, she has left despite the fact that I find myself desperately in love with her. And as she will never forgive me, or even have a discussion about the emotion, I will likely spend the rest of my days a failed lovesick moron.”

Rhys straightened a little, studied Athan as if he wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. “That all sounds a bit dramatic.”

“It feels it.”

Rhys studied him with narrowed eyes, but some consideration in his expression. “What would an Akakios know of love?”

“Nothing, I assure you. I’m as surprised as anyone. Well, except perhaps your sister. She didn’t take such confessions well.”

Rhys snorted. “She wouldn’t. Nor would she appreciate dramatics.”

“No, indeed.”

But Rhys did not stand to leave. He did not say good riddance. He sat in the chair and studied Athan with surprisingly empathetic eyes.

“She gets her way because she stonewalls every other way out. She controls things because she’s had to, and now she’s afraid to let go.”

Afraid.Athan blinked at that word. Lynna did not appear to be afraid of anything. Ever. She had always stood her ground. Maybe she pushed certain things away, but…

No, not just pushed. She hadrun awayfrom him. Not because he’d done anything terrible. But because she hadn’t wanted to hear his words. She hadn’t wanted to have a rather simple conversation, all in all, because it involved feelings. Complicated ones. Grief—thatpointlessemotion as she’d once called it.

She’d always held her own in a fight. Snapped back with barbs equal to the task. But when it came to the soft, she fled. Time and time again.

This was a revelation, but it did not change the bottom line. Athan looked at his desk, unable to meet Rhys’s blue gaze any longer. “She will never forgive me,” he muttered.

“Maybe. Does that change how you feel though?”

“Not me, no,” Athan agreed. “But one doesn’t simply…bully their way into a relationship, Rhys. I hope that is something someone has taught you along the way.”

Again, the boy rolled his eyes. “Of course, but you’re missing the point. One of Lynna’s very adamant lessons is that we must do the thing regardless of how we feel. I happen to think she’s taken it to extremes, but I give her leeway as she’s taken so much on her shoulders. You, on the other hand, have no leeway. So, you must do what needs doing regardless.”

“And what needs doing, pray tell?”

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