My Love Until the Last Goodbye (Mary and Maximus) novel Chapter 963

[UAE, days earlier]

Theodore and Fiona were having breakfast in the penthouse while Adam was out running errands. The young man knew that even though his parents had reunited and his father had decided to marry his mother, they still needed time and space to understand each other.

Adam was well aware that his father was a serious and rigid man, while his mother was sweet and timid. She had done her best to raise him with love and respect, but he also knew she had never been able to forget his father. She never tried to rebuild her life, partly because it was difficult in their culture as a woman with children and a complicated past.

"Fiona, what are you thinking about?" Theodore asked, noticing she was lost in thought.

She turned to look at him, then quickly lowered her gaze.

"Nothing, my lord… It’s just that…" she said shyly.

Theodore didn’t know how to react. He had been with women here before, but Fiona was different. She treated him as if he were her master, as if by marrying her, he had automatically become her owner.

"Fiona, hey, look at me. We need to talk," he said seriously.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze but still couldn’t meet his eyes fully.

"First of all, why do you treat me like I own you? I’m not your owner. And I don’t like you calling me ‘my lord.’ Call me Theodore, just like you used to when you were young.

"Second, you are free to be the lady of this house. I know things here are different, but I don’t like feeling as if I bought a wife. I married you because it was the right thing to do, but also because I want to give you what you deserve—what you’ve always deserved," he said, kneeling in front of her.

"My lord… It’s just that I—I don’t know how to do that. I never remarried after you saved me. I never had anyone else but you. I lived only for my son, nothing more," Fiona confessed timidly.

Theodore could only imagine how hard it must have been for her, finding out she was pregnant long after he had left. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of having a wife twenty-something years younger than him, but had he known he had a son, he never would have let them struggle alone. The thought never even crossed his mind.

"You know what we’re going to do?" he said, gently stroking her cheek.

"What, my lord?"

"Stop calling me that. Just call me Theodore—that’s all I ask," he said softly.

For a man like him, showing interest in someone was difficult, but with Fiona, it felt natural. Why? He had no idea.