Page 100 of Modern Romance March 2025 (5-8)

Except he hadn’t returned. Nearly fifteen minutes later, Gavriil had sought me out to tell me that Rafe had left. He’d been uncharacteristically somber and, when I pressed for details, simply said that he and Rafe had a disagreement and he had said some things he shouldn’t have. I sent Rafe a text, but all he’d answered was that he needed to get home and had arranged for the limo to come back to get me whenever I wished to leave. I’d swapped out my crutches for my wheelchair and spent the rest of the evening with Gavriil and Juliette. Juliette had been thrilled to talk about her house and my business, although I’d caught her more than once shooting a concerned glance at her husband. Finally, when people started to leave, I took the limo Rafe had arranged back to our hotel, conscious of the empty seat beside me.

Rafe booked us a room at the Hotel Grande Bretagne, the most luxurious hotel in Athens. The two-bedroom suite included a marble bathroom, ornate furniture, and a balcony overlooking the Acropolis hill. When I wheeled myself into the room, I was greeted with the comforting glow of a lamp that has been left on and an empty sitting room. Rafe’s door was firmly closed.

I resolved to stay in my room, give Rafe space. But his abrupt retreat, combined with Gavriil’s uncharacteristic behavior, ate at me. So now I’m sitting outside the door to his bedroom, working up the courage to knock.

I changed out of my gown and into a lounge set from a shopping trip with Katie all those months ago. A sleeveless silk top and matching pants in burgundy. Simple, but elegant, the cool material against my skin a much-needed contrast to the heat I hadn’t been able to get rid of since our dance.

I raise my hand to knock. Then I freeze. I still feel raw after our dance, vulnerable. Is me being here now the best thing for him? For me?

But, I tell myself as I raise my hand again, if it were anyone else, I would be checking on them.

I knock. Silence greets me.

Doubt creeps in. I debate returning to my room, but before I can make a decision, footsteps finally sound on the other side of the door. Rafe opens it. My breath catches in my chest. He shed his black tuxedo jacket but is still wearing his white dress shirt and black pants. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of skin and dark curling hair.

“Tessa.”

His voice is flat. Unease ripples down my spine.

“I just wanted to check on you. You left the party.”

“Yes. Gavriil and I had words.”

“That’s what he said.” I tilt my head to one side. “Are you upset with me, too?”

He braces one shoulder against the doorway and stares down at me. “It was disconcerting realizing my brother most likely knew about your intent to divorce me before I did.”

My stomach clenches. “Rafe—”

He turns his back on me and walks away. “It doesn’t matter,” he says over his shoulder. “It doesn’t change anything.”

I hesitate on the threshold. And then move into the room, closing the door softly behind me.

“I’m sorry, Rafe.”

He moves to the small balcony and looks out over Athens, his body stiff.

“I would ask that for the remainder of our arrangement, you not share any details with anyone else.”

“I didn’t tell him about…”

Rafe glances over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised and almost a challenge.

“The other part,” I finish lamely.

“My debauching you? Your discretion is appreciated.”

Irritation chips away at my compassion. “Look, when I talked to Gavriil, I was trying to get his perspective. To make sure I wasn’t jumping to conclusions or making a hasty decision.”

He looks back out over the ocean. “He said you talked to him a week before you sent the divorce papers.”

I will not feel guilty. I will not feel guilty.

“Yes. I hadn’t heard from you since I left. And then at the wedding you acted like I didn’t exist. There wasn’t any anger, there wasn’t any sadness, there was just…nothing.”

“Nothing,” he echoes. “That’s the state I usually exist in, Tessa.”

“I know. Although I don’t understand why.”

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