Page 15 of Modern Romance May 2026 Books 5-8
Because she hadn’t told Oscar. And she could have. They were still together then, still planning for a future.
Or perhaps she wasn’t.
He could still remember the moment when he realised that she hadn’t and didn’t want to tell her brother that she was married.
‘It’s not the right time.’ That was what she’d said after having introduced him to Oscar as her boyfriend, but if not then, when? It had been impossible to ignore, like a stone in a shoe. It was true that he hadn’t told his family at that point but, clearly, he would have done so.
Dulcie’s hesitation had made him question himself. He’d had to know for sure what he meant to her.
And she’d told him.
Now her gaze stayed steady, but her voice was scratchy when she answered. ‘Like you said, there was no point. It was easier just to forget it ever happened.’
It: their marriage, and, by association, him.
‘Until now,’ she added, and their eyes locked.
‘Until now,’ he agreed.
‘So how do you see this working?’
Good question, he thought. How did he see it working? But the answer was not something he had given much thought to until he’d opened his mouth yesterday and said something completely different from what he’d been planning to say.
‘I suppose we would act as man and wife,’ he said finally, a pulse beating in his hand as if his heart had momentarily relocated from his chest.
Man and wife. The words made him think of damp skin and soft lighting and a tangle of bedsheets and, gazing down at Dulcie, he saw that her pulse was beating in time with his and a flush of colour was contouring her cheekbones.
‘In public,’ he clarified, although there must be something wrong with him because it was hard not to stall his reply so he could watch a flush of pink seep down over the smooth pale underside of her jaw.
‘In private, we would simply be ourselves.’
He had no idea what that meant but she let it pass.
‘And the money?’
Given that it was his idea to pay her, her question stung more than it should, and he suddenly wished that he had never mentioned money.
He held her gaze. ‘Do you have a figure in mind?’
‘I thought you would. You’re the one putting a price on our marriage.’ She stared straight back into his eyes. ‘Like you said, I’m going to have to give up my jobs and pay my rent. And I looked into the kind of clinics that do residential rehab, and the Dymphna Clinic looks like the best fit for Oscar. It’s more expensive but I want the best for him.’ Her eyes found his, blue, unblinking, challenging him to refuse. ‘I’ll let you do the maths.’
And perhaps there was something wrong with him because he would have paid ten times what it would cost him to get her to smile at him then.
‘I can do that.’
‘And just so we’re clear, it’s going to be a loan, not a gift. I’ll set up a standing order to your account.’ She stared at him steadily. ‘It might take some time, but I’ll pay back every penny.’
That stung too, more so than if she had accepted his money unquestioningly. Which made no sense whatsoever.
Clearly he was still processing her sudden change of heart. ‘Anything else?’
She bit her lip. ‘Then there’s the marriage licence. How are we going to explain that we got married two years ago?’
‘It’s probably best if we stick as close to the truth as possible. Let’s say that we argued and you stormed off—’
‘I didn’t storm off.’ She frowned. ‘We were inmyflat—’
‘Fine, then I will storm off in our “pretend” past.’
