Page 106 of Modern Romance May 2026 Books 5-8
Chapter Eleven
Aiden
ASAILBOAT DRIFTS BY,its white sails puffing out as the sea breeze carries it down the coast. The sun is climbing overhead and turning the morning warm. But inside, I’m cold.
Walking away from Seraphina last night was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I wanted to stay, wanted to lie down next to her and pull her into my arms. I wanted to fall asleep with her, to wake up with her in my arms.
When she uttered those words, smiled at me with such easy affection even as we could barely keep our hands off each other, I slipped. Slid dangerously close to something I wouldn’t be able to come back from.
I got caught up once more in our lovemaking. But after, when she made me laugh and I leaned down to kiss her cheek, I knew I was at the edge of that cliff. If I fall over that edge, I won’t want to let Seraphina go. But it would also be one of the most selfish, cruel things I can do to her. I wouldn’t want to share her, but I wouldn’t be able to give her what she needs. What she deserves.
Which means I’d have to let her go while I pushed through pain yet again. I don’t want that for myself. And I will not put her in that position.
Movement in the yard catches my eye. My body tightens as I watch Seraphina walk down the path that leads to the villa’s private beach. I should let her go. Should give ourselves at least the morning to be apart. But I can’t. I need to check on her, need to make sure she’s all right.
I saw the surprise in her eyes, the hurt before she slipped on that professional persona I’m starting to despise. I want the Seraphina who lounges on a catamaran and smiles out at the sea. I want the woman who so brazenly kept her gaze locked on mine as she took me into her mouth.
I stop at my doorway. What right do I have to see that side of her when I can’t even share a part of myself? Yes, I confided in her. But just enough. I didn’t tell her about covering Cassian with my own body, trying to warm him up as he shivered and thrashed under the stained blanket we’d found in a dumpster. Didn’t tell her about the winter nights we huddled together in a dumpster wondering if we’d wake up the next morning. I picked the one chapter of my life story that has a happy ending. One that most people at least know bits and pieces of.
But there is something I can share with her. A story that might help her understand why things are the way they are. Why I can’t give her any more than what I’m offering in this moment.
I walk down the garden path, past wild rosemary and slender pines stretching up toward the sky. Has it really only been five days since I followed Seraphina down a different path thousands of miles away? It feels like it’s been this way for years, even as the moment I recognized her on stage feels like it happened just seconds ago.
I descend the staircase built into the hillside and walk out onto the golden sands of the beach. Seraphina is pulling a gauzy white dress over her head. My jaw tightens as I take in the backless red swimsuit.
“Good morning.”
She whirls around, one hand flying to her chest.
“Aiden.”
“I’m sorry I startled you.”
“It’s fine.” She blinks, and then her expression is just as smooth and devoid of emotion as mine. “How are you?”
“Fine. You?”
“Fine.”
We stare at each other as the sea rises and falls behind her.
“I wanted to tell you a story.”
Her brows draw together. “A story,” she repeats.
I take a step in her direction. “You were hurt by the way I left last night.”
Her shoulders tense. “I was a little surprised, yes. But you made it perfectly clear—”
“No lies. Please,” I add when her eyes narrow. “We shared a lot last night.”
“We did,” she replies carefully. “But I don’t have any expectations, Aiden. I told you that. You’ve been nothing but up-front with me since the beginning, and I’m still hopeful that one day I’ll meet the right man and get married and have a family of my own.”
She’s saying the same things I’ve repeated to myself over and over. Yet hearing it from her lips sends a jolt of unexpected pain through my chest. That and a desire to punch her faceless future husband square in the face.
“Still, you deserve an explanation.”
Finally, she nods. “All right.”
