Breaking The Fate

Chapter seven

"Reece," he says, extending a hand for me to shake. His expression is casual, his tone easy, like he's met a hundred people this way.

I hesitate for a moment, furrowing my eyebrows. Does he really not recognize me? Maybe it's because of how dark it is out here—or maybe he's just one of those people who doesn't pay close attention. Either way, I decide not to say anything.

I don't know why I'm even talking to a stranger right now, but honestly, I think I need it. It feels easier, less heavy, to talk to someone who doesn't know me, who doesn't know my situation.

"This is the part where you tell me your name," he teases, flashing a grin.

"Leah," I reply simply.

He narrows his eyes at me, tilting his head like he's trying to piece something together. "You look oddly familiar. Have we met before?"

"I don't think so," I say quickly, shaking my head. If he doesn't recognize me, I'm not going to be the one to connect the dots for him. There's something comforting about being anonymous right now—someone who's just... Leah, not attached to the weight of everything else.

Reece shrugs, letting it go. "Fair enough." He glances out at the sea, the corners of his lips quirking into a faint smile. "Did you know that if you scream at the ocean, it screams back at you?"

His comment catches me off guard, and I can't help but blink at him. "What?"

He chuckles softly, his voice calm against the quiet hum of the waves. "I mean, metaphorically, of course. I used to come to the beach and yell at the water whenever I felt overwhelmed. And every time, the ocean thundered back at me, almost like it was saying, 'I hear you.' Like it was giving me permission to let it all out."

I take a moment to let his words sink in. "That's... poetic," I admit. "I used to come to the beach back in the States too, with my brothers. But back then, the only thing I had to complain about was school. Life felt so simple. And now..." My voice trails off as I gesture at the vast expanse of water in front of us. "Now I come here and wonder how everything got so complicated so fast."

Reece looks at me curiously. "You're from the United States?"

I nod. "Yeah. I'm American. I moved here after I got married."

His eyes widen slightly, and he takes a half-step back. "Wait—married? You're married?" He sounds genuinely surprised, almost incredulous. "How old are you?"

"Yeah," I say with a small shrug. "I'm eighteen."

At that, his mouth opens as if to say something, but no words come out. He closes it again, staring out at the waves like they hold some kind of answer he's searching for.

For a while, neither of us says anything. The silence between us is calm, stretching out like the horizon. Reece doesn't push for more details, and I'm grateful for it. Right now, it feels nice just being here, standing next to someone who doesn't know my story but is still willing to share the space with me.

*

When I finally get home, I feel lighter than I did before—like the weight of the sea air helped me exhale some of the pain I'd been carrying. But that small relief vanishes the moment I remember.

I'm sharing a room with August now.

The thought makes my stomach churn, and the calm I'd felt moments ago disappears. My chest tightens, and I huff, trying to keep the tears from falling again. My feet move on their own as I turn around and walk out of the mansion, ignoring the concerned voices calling after me.

I don't stop. I just keep walking, leaving behind the suffocating walls of the house and everything they represent. I don't know where I'm going; I just know that I need to get away. Deep down, I wish I could walk far enough to escape August altogether—to walk away from this entire life.

The night air is cool, but it doesn't soothe me. I feel like a mess, and I probably smell like the beach—sand, salt, and sadness clinging to me. Tears spill freely now, hot against my cheeks, and I bite my lip to keep from sobbing too loudly.

Eventually, my legs give out, and I drop to my knees on the side of the road. I bury my face in my hands, unable to hold it in anymore. The weight in my chest feels unbearable, like it's trying to crush me from the inside out.

I hear the soft hum of a car pulling up, the tires crunching on the gravel, but I don't look up. It's not until I hear the window roll down and a voice say, "Oh," that I lift my head.

The door opens, and a familiar figure steps out. Reece.

He doesn't hesitate—he kneels in front of me, his brows furrowed with concern. "Leah," he says softly, reaching out to help me up.

I don't know what to say. I feel humiliated, caught in such a vulnerable moment. I open my mouth to explain myself, but before I can, he shakes his head. His eyes are kind, understanding.

"It's okay," he says gently. "You don't have to explain anything. I understand."

I let him guide me to his car, too drained to resist. He opens the passenger door, and I climb in without a word. Reece walks around to the driver's side, gets in, and starts the car. He doesn't ask where I want to go, and I don't care to ask where he's taking me. For all I care, he could be k********g me, and it wouldn't matter. Anywhere is better than where I've been.

"There's this great diner about twenty minutes from here," he says after a few moments of silence. "The food's amazing. We should check it out."

I hesitate. The idea of sitting in a crowded diner, where people might recognize me, sends a wave of anxiety through me. If word got back to August... I couldn't handle it.

"I'll just stay in the car," I mumble, my voice barely audible.

Reece glances at me, and I see the faintest hint of a smile tug at his lips. "Nonsense," he says firmly, shaking his head. "We'll hit the drive-thru instead. We can take the food back to the beach. Sound good?"

I nod, relieved. He doesn't make me feel like a burden, even though I know I am right now. For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel like someone sees me—not the image, not the role, just me.

*

"Are you close with your family?" Reece asks, his voice calm and curious, breaking the steady rhythm of waves crashing against the shore.

We're sitting side by side on the sand, the glow of streetlights from a nearby fast-food spot, NotMc, spilling onto the beach. It's quiet except for the distant hum of cars and the occasional gust of wind.

"I was," I say after a moment, staring ahead at the dark, endless sea. "I mean... I still am. But it's been a while since we've talked."

"Why?" he asks, leaning back on his elbows like he's settling in for a real conversation.

Because my husband, who happens to be a king, confiscated my phone and only gives it back to me once every three months.

"I don't have much time anymore," I say instead, shrugging like it's no big deal. "My husband takes up most of it."

"How does your husband treat you?" he asks, his tone light, but there's a flicker of curiosity in his eyes when he glances my way.

"He's... cool," I lie, feeling the weight of the word as soon as it leaves my lips.

"Right," Reece chuckles softly, "which is why I found you crying on the side of the road, huh?"

I laugh a little, but it's the kind of laugh that catches in my throat, like it's fighting its way out. "It's just... hard sometimes, you know? A couple of months ago, I was back home, surrounded by my family in a house I grew up in, in a country I've always known. And now? Now I'm here. In a house I don't belong to, in a country I've never lived in, surrounded by people I don't really know."

Reece nods like he gets it. Maybe he does.

"I live in the States," he says after a pause. "But my brothers live here, so I come visit sometimes. Feels like I'm living two different lives, you know? So, if you ever want me to sneak you back in my luggage, just say the word."

I can't help but laugh, a real one this time, even though my chest still feels heavy. "What's your luggage policy? Does it include snacks?"

"For you? I'll make an exception," he grins, brushing sand off his jeans.

And for a moment, sitting there under the stars with a stranger who doesn't know my full story, I feel a little less alone.