Page 184 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8
She wantedhimto fight.For them.
She wanted him to walk into her room, as he had all those weeks ago, and take her.
She opened her eyes, looked above the crib where she’d made them hang the painting of Sebastian. His eyes watching. When the baby was born, when their baby slept in a crib beneath it, it would remind her what was important.
Love.
Unconditional love.
A sharp pain shot up her spine.
‘Oh, oh!’ she panted. Hard and deep. The pressure was so intense in her back, her temples throbbed. Her gaze misted.
The painting wobbled.
Who had ever fought for him? For the boy longing for acceptance, for love. For support.
She wished she had a time machine. She wished she could break down the doors of the basement and save him before Amelia’s birth, before he’d known such pain. And regret. And guilt.
Who had ever fought for the man?
No one.
He was still all alone in his castle, in the highest room, in the highest tower…
There they were again. Those tears she didn’t want, hot on her flushed cheeks. And she knew she had a choice.
She could wail. She could scream. Or she could accept it. The end of them. She could move on. Raise her child on her own. She would live, she’d exist with or without Sebastian.
She couldn’t make him make the right choice.
She couldn’t make him love her.
She couldn’t make him accept her love.
Butshecould fight. She could fight the demons he still battled for him. She could protect him with her love. She could love him. Harder than he had ever known love.
A moan slipped from her lips. And it wasn’t the physical pain crushing her hips in a vice grip. It was the pain of realizing her stupidity.
She was stupid. Blind.
She didn’t need to be rescued.
He did.
All her life, she’d accepted things. The way she was supposed to behave. The choices she’d had to agree to. And all her life, she’d been on the outside of her own life. Waiting. Waiting for her parents’ love and acceptance. She’d smiled through her pain, nodded when she’d disagreed with the ugly choices she’d been made to accept because she’d been too afraid to fight for what she believed in.
But she believed in her and Sebastian.
In their love.
What was she waiting for? For permission to love him?
He’d never give it to her without a fight.
She’d been fighting for them, she realised, since the night they met. Fighting for all they could be together. In the gardens. In the castle. And all the little fights that had led to this. The final battle she would need to win.
What weapons did she have?
