Page 66 of The Royal in Room 3

Everything about Jude changed. His shoulders relaxed, and the serious expression he wore so often disappeared. He looked younger than I’d ever seen him, maybe due to his mannerisms around his mother.

“Hey, Ma.” He crossed the porch quickly and bent to kiss her cheek. “You know I have a key. You didn’t have to get up to open the door.”

“It was just the excuse I needed to move around.”

He extended a hand to me, and I closed the space between us to stand by his side. “Ma, there’s someone I want you to meet. This is Soren, my partner. Soren, say hello to my mother, Evelyn.”

“Hello, Ms. Evelyn,” I said politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Just Evelyn will do.” She beamed a smile at me. “Jude, you didn’t tell me he was such a handsome young man. I’m afraid he’s too handsome for you.”

Jude clutched his heart. “Ouch, Ma. And here I thought you’d be happy that I’m no longer alone.”

“Alone?” Evelyn waved us in, her gait rocking with her walker. “There was a time I wished you were alone, always having a revolving door of submarines in and out of your life.”

I frowned. “Submarines?”

Jude laughed so hard he clutched his chest. “They’re called subs, Ma, not submarines. The full word is submissive.”

“Whatever they’re called, they walk into your life and take, take, take, then they walk out.”

“That’s how I wanted it, Ma.”

“Regardless, a man should have a steady partner. Thank God, you have one now.”

We entered the living room, where he helped her to sit before arranging a cushion behind her back.

“How do you know Soren’s not going to leave me too?”

“Because you’ve never brought any of the other submarines to meet me before.”

“That’s right,” I said, picking up the blanket that was lying on the floor and adjusting it over her legs. “I’m not going anywhere. I love your son very much.”

“As I love Soren.”

My head whipped up, and I inhaled sharply to find Jude staring at me with a soft smile. He’d never told me he loved me before. I knew he cared about me but…

“You love me?” I gasped.

“Oh, Jude, how unromantic to confess your love for your young man in front of your mother,” Evelyn said. “Your sister has champagne in the fridge. At least pour him a glass and tell him properly.”

“Thanks, Ma.” Jude grabbed both my wrists and, with a playful smile, dragged me to the cutest kitchen. Pale yellow cabinets lined the walls, their brass handles polished with age, while floral curtains framed a small window above the sink. A round wooden table sat beneath a hanging light, surrounded by mismatched chairs that somehow made the room feel warmer instead of untidy. Magnets and faded photographs covered the refrigerator, and little ceramic roosters occupied nearly every available shelf.

“Let me find the champagne⁠—”

“Don’t.” I held onto his hand before he could walk away. “Daddy, I don’t care about the champagne.”

“You sure? Because⁠—”

“Daddy!” I groaned.

Jude wrapped his arms around my waist, rocking me against him. “It’s true. I love you, too, Soren.”

“Really?”

“Really, really.”

“That’s two reallys.”