Page 237 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8
‘Hence the millions of bedrooms?’ Her tone was teasing as she came to stand beside him. ‘You’d better get busy, Zeus, because there’s room here for at least ten children.’
He didn’t laugh. The thought of marrying someone else, of having children with them, was now like acid inside his throat all the time.
‘Do you think you will?’ She glanced up at him, the humour gone from her face, too.
He didn’t follow. ‘Have ten children?’
She waved a hand in the air, her features a little troubled. ‘Marry.’
He shifted his body to face her, and the air between them seemed to grow heavy and thick all at once, making it difficult to breathe. In another world, if he were any other man, this might be where he’d say something like,That depends if you’ll agree to marry me.But Zeus had been shaped by all that he’d seen and lost, by the fear and pain and anticipation of death that he’d been forced to live with almost his entire life. The thought of opening himself up to that again was the antithesis of his approach to life.
And yet, the thought of Jane hearing about his engagement in the papers in a week’s time, maybe two weeks, depending on how quickly he acted, and not understanding his reasons for it…
‘When I marry,’ he said carefully, ‘it will be a pragmatic marriage, not for love.’
She bit into her lip, her eyes showing a swirling current of emotion. ‘Why?’
‘Because I don’t want that kind of marriage.’
She shook her head. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’
‘Doesn’t it?’ He reached out and caught her hair, tucking it behind her ear. ‘You know me, Jane.’ Even to his own ears, his voice was deep and rumbly. ‘After this week, I think you know me better than anyone. Can you really stand there and tell me you don’t understand?’
Her lips parted on a quick expulsion of breath.
‘The more I felt for someone,’ he said, voice gruff, as though it had been dragged from his chest over hot coals, ‘the less able I would be to have them in my life.’ He stroked her cheek. ‘I’d always rather let go on my terms, you see.’
Did she understand what he meant? What he wasn’t saying? Did she know how much she’d come to mean to him?
A single tear slid down her cheek, and she turned her face into his palm, eyes sweeping shut. The afternoon sun dipped towards the ocean and cast her in a halo of gold, so she shimmered like an angel.
‘I’ll always be glad to have met you,’ he said, and then, because he couldn’t resist, he pulled her to his body and kissed her as though they’d just said their wedding vows, and this was the beginning of the rest of their lives together, rather than the beginning of the end—their last night.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Onthemorningof their final day together, Zeus woke early, despite the fact they’d barely slept. Urgency had overtaken them both, so they’d made love hard and fast and then long and slow, reaching for each other, memorising every inch of one another’s bodies, remembering everything about this connection they shared.
But the morning broke and with it the reality that Jane would leave him today.
He’d known it was coming.
They’d faced that reality together a week ago, and here they now were, staring down the barrel of the End. He refused to let that hurt him. Or to admit how much it was hurting him?
He wanted to stay with her, in bed, but at the same time, he was possessed by a strange energy. An adrenaline that was pumping through his veins, making him jumpy and unsettled, so he stepped out of the bed with one last look at her sleeping frame, her hair over one shoulder, her lips parted in sleep, and his heart seemed to splinter into a thousand pieces.
Lips a grim line, he strode from the room towards the galley, where he began to brew a coffee, staring out at Prásino Lófo with a heavy heart. Jane had belonged here; he wasn’t imagining that. When she’d stepped onto the island the day before, he’d felt as though something in his chest had locked into place, and that feeling had only built and built until he couldn’t help but imagine her there forever. His wife, his other half, his love.
He dropped his head and stared at the benchtop, his heart racing now, a fine bead of perspiration forming at the nape of his neck, because he could no longer pretend that he didn’t love her. That he didn’t trust her. That he didn’t want her—not just out of a sense of transient limerence, but in a lasting, vital way.
It terrified him, becausenothingwas lasting. Nothing was certain.
He’d learned that lesson at a very, very young age. He’d lived alongside a permanent fear of waking up, every day, and having it be the last day in which he saw his mother. That uncertainty had damned near eaten him alive, and he’d seen it all but destroy his father.
How could Zeus possibly be stupid enough to have allowed himself to fall in love?
He had to let Jane go. He had to say goodbye, watch her walk away and never, ever think of her again. He had to employ every ounce of strength at his disposal. Only then would he be safe from those exact same feelings.
Waking up, not knowing if she would be safe, if she would be well. He couldn’t do it again, not ever. Loving Jane would mean forever putting his heart on the line, making himself vulnerable and weak. He couldn’t do it.
