Page 180 of Modern Romance March 2025 (5-8)

They didn’t speak again until they were in the penthouse in London. The housekeeper had finished for the day and, since they hadn’t been sure of their plans, hadn’t left any meals.

“Should I make something for lunch?” Stella asked. “Or would you rather order in?”

“Did you mean it?” he asked, unable to hold the question in.

“What?”

“When Oliver asked if you loved me.”

She stiffened. Shadows of indecision swirled in her eyes before her expression softened, becoming so naked and defenseless, it dropped his heart even further, until it was churning with his gut.

“I would never lie about something like that. I wouldn’t lie toyou,” she said.

He flinched. “How could you?”

“That’s not a real question, is it?” she chided as she came to set her hand on his arm.

He stepped back, withdrawing from the contact because it created thorny sensations that pierced more than his arm. They went into his chest and his throat and his belly. The magnitude of her confession, of her tender feelings, was too big inside him. Too heavy.

“It’s okay if you’re not there yet,” she said in a voice that wavered. “We’re still new.”

Yet. The expectation in that word was so loaded, it only made him feel worse about what he’d done.

“I don’t deserve your love, Stella.” He doubted he ever would.

“Of course you do. You’re a good man, Atlas.”

“Ha!” He ran his hand down his face.

“Please don’t question my judgment,” she said with quiet dignity.

“Were you in that room?”

You love to pretend superiority, then use women as a shield. You married her to stick a knife in my back.

“It’smyjudgment you should question,” he said tightly. “I’ve been behaving exactly the way he does. Think about your future, Stella. If I’m capable of this today, I could be worse tomorrow. Do you want me leaving you pregnant to fend for yourself and our child? Encouraging you to drink yourself to death?”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know that. His poisoned blood is in me. I’ve turned into him to fight him and now that’s what I am. Run while you have the chance.”

“I’m not leaving you, Atlas,” she admonished with a flex of injury across her face. “I love you. I want to be with you.”

“And I refuse to use your feelings to keep you here. I’m liable to use your feelings to destroy you.”

“You’re not making sense.” She tried to approach him again and he stepped back again. Her shoulders fell. “If you care about me enough that you want to protect me, then you’re not a bad person. You’re not like him,” she insisted.

“You don’t know the thoughts in my head.” The rage. The desire for revenge that wanted to stop at nothing to vanquish Oliver once and for all.

“No,” she agreed. “But you do care about me, don’t you?” Her faltering smile fell away as she searched his eyes. Anxious lines etched in around her eyes and mouth. “A little?”

The pang in her voice matched the ache in his chest. Yes, he cared about her. So much he couldn’t look at her because she would see it and he refused to manipulate her. He refused to keep using her.

He clenched his teeth so hard he thought his molars would crack.

* * *

Stella knew how to hide her emotions, but it took all her effort to breathe through the pain of this rejection.

---