Page 150 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

‘Yes. I never knew her—I was very young at the time. And my father never got over it. He’s still not. He had a lot of affairs with a lot of women, and rather than explaining that he was still very much in love with his comatose wife, he led them on, fully aware that they were falling in love with him, and just not capable of caring.’ She shook her head in an angry gesture of condemnation. ‘I saw these women getting their hearts broken time and time again, and at first, I didn’t understand, or perhaps I didn’t want to put the blame where it belonged. But over time, I came to see that he was being ruthlessly cavalier with their hearts, that he was almost seeming to enjoy it. To punish them for living, with my mother in that state.’

Sebastian’s eyes bore into hers. ‘It is very difficult to accept the imperfections of someone we love.’

It was the perfect thing to say, because it struck at the heart of what she had struggled with. Loving her father, even when he’d disappointed her so badly.

It made her willing to continue, when she never discussed this with anyone, ever.

‘At the same time, as I grew up, I started to look more and more like my mother. You might have thought that would make him care for me more, to see so much of her in me, but it was the opposite. He found it almost impossible to sit across the table from me and share a meal. He would drink too much and tell me not to speak, because even my voice sounded like hers.’ The words were hollow, repeated from memory, and she tried not to let herselffeelthat pain again. ‘He sent me away to boarding school when I was fifteen, and it was a saving grace. I no longer had to witness his litany of disastrous relationships, except when I came home on holidays, and then, he made himself quite scarce, because I continued to remind him of her.’

Silence, except for the gentle lapping of the ocean against the jetty supports, hung between them while Sebastian absorbed this.

‘Do you see him often?’

‘A couple of times a year. For his birthday, usually for Christmas.’

‘And your mother?’

Rosie’s lips twisted into a soft, melancholic smile. ‘I see her more often. Usually every couple of weeks, whenever I can get away. I know it’s silly, but I like to paint her fingernails.’ She glanced across at him, wondering if he’d think it was a waste of time. ‘It’s something I figure we might have done, had things...if things had been different.’

‘Is there any hope of recovery?’

‘I gave up that hope a long time ago—it was too hard, otherwise. Doctors have always been honest with us. There is the possibility—you hear of cases, every now and again. But it’s so rare. She is comfortable and cared for, which might be as good as it gets.’

It was depressing and upsetting to contemplate and yet she was glad they’d spoken about it. It was such a huge part of Rosie, had been for so long, that somehow it just felt right that Sebastian should understand this about her. Wasn’t that the point of getting to know one another?

‘Her name is Juliet?’

Rosie nodded.

‘And you are Rosalind. Shakespearean?’

Rosie smiled. ‘My mother told my father how much she wanted to name me after a Shakespearean heroine and thought long and hard about whom to choose. She had always felt that her own name disposed her to some form of tragedy or another—perhaps she was right. She wanted my name to be the opposite: a beacon of strength and confidence, and she definitely wanted me to have my own happy ending.’

‘Like Rosalind?’

‘Yes.’

He lifted a hand to her cheek, ran a finger over it. ‘I’m sorry about your father.’

Her eyes shifted to his; emotions tightened in her chest. ‘There’s no point resenting him for any of it. He has made his choices in life. I’ve made mine.’

‘And do you regret any of yours, Rosalind?’

Something yanked at her fishing line, but she was so captivated by Sebastian that she didn’t register the movement. ‘That’s an almost impossible question to answer. Who doesn’t have regrets?’

‘I don’t.’

‘None?’

‘Not really.’

She furrowed her brow. ‘Oh, to be so self-assured.’

‘I make decisions I’m willing to stand by.’

‘Always?’

‘To this point.’

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