Fate passion

Leila had always considered herself a rebel in a family steeped in tradition. Born into a tightly-knit clan that prided itself on preserving "purity of bloodlines," she had grown up listening to tales of great-grandparents who had married their first cousins and cousins who had married their seconds. These stories were told with reverence around the dinner table, but to Leila, they sounded more like cautionary tales than romantic epics. At twenty-three, Leila had made it abundantly clear she wanted no part in their archaic customs.

She'd moved to the city for college, built a life filled with new ideas, and carved a path far away from the insular world of her rural hometown. So when her mother called to tell her about the "arranged marriage proposal" with her distant cousin Andreas, Leila had laughed outright. "You're kidding," she had said, leaning against her kitchen counter as the smell of her half-burnt pasta filled the air. "It's tradition, Leila," her mother had replied, her tone laced with disappointment. "Andreas is a fine young man. Successful. Handsome.".. "And my cousin," Leila retorted, cutting her mother off. "Do you hear yourself? This isn't ancient Greece!" Her protestations fell on deaf ears, and within a week, Leila found herself begrudgingly driving back to her childhood home for the formal introduction. She promised herself this would be her final act of compliance before putting her foot down for good. The mere idea of being matched with a cousin-distant or not-was insanity, and she intended to make that crystal clear.

The day of the introduction arrived, and Leila stood in her room, tugging at the hem of her sundress, feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter. The entire family had gathered in the sprawling backyard for the occasion, laughter and chatter drifting in through her window. She sighed, squared her shoulders, and descended the stairs. As she stepped outside, her gaze swept across the crowd until it landed on a figure that made her stop in her tracks. Andreas. He stood near the pergola, dressed in a crisp white shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and dark slacks that emphasized his height. His wavy, jet-black hair gleamed under the sun, and his golden-brown skin had the kind of effortless glow she had only seen on magazine covers. His face was sharp and symmetrical, with a strong jawline, high cheekbones, and eyes the color of honey, warm and piercing all at once. Leila blinked, her mind scrambling for an appropriate reaction. She had been expecting some vaguely familiar face from childhood-a gangly boy with braces or a forgettable silhouette from a family reunion. Not this. Andreas turned and caught her staring. A slow smile spread across his face, revealing perfect teeth. He raised his hand in a casual wave, and Leila's stomach did a strange flip. Her mother's voice broke the spell. "Leila! Come, meet Andreas!" Summoning all her resolve, Leila crossed the yard, her sandals crunching against the gravel. Andreas extended his hand as she approached. "Leila," he said, his deep voice carrying an accent she hadn't anticipated. "It's been a while." His hand was warm, his grip firm. For a moment, she forgot to let go. "Yeah," she managed, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "It's been... a while."

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of polite conversation and carefully curated smiles. Andreas charmed everyone effortlessly-his wit sharp, his laughter contagious. Leila, on the other hand, found herself retreating into her thoughts, grappling with an unexpected wave of conflicting emotions. She had spent weeks railing against this introduction, confident in her disdain for the very notion of marrying a cousin. But now, faced with Andreas and his godlike presence, her convictions felt suddenly flimsy. As the sun set and the gathering dispersed, Andreas caught up to her as she lingered by the old oak tree at the edge of the yard. "So," he said, leaning against the trunk, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What do you think of all this?" Leila hesitated, unsure whether to voice her true thoughts. Finally, she settled on the safest response. "It's... overwhelming." Andreas laughed, a low, melodic sound. "I'll take that as a compliment." She frowned. "Don't." His expression softened. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Leila. Just because our families think it's a good idea doesn't mean we have to agree." For a moment, she felt a spark of relief-until he added, "But I have to admit, it's nice to see you again. You've... grown up." His gaze lingered a moment too long, and Leila's heart betrayed her, skipping a beat. She tore her eyes away, muttering something about needing to help her mother before retreating toward the house. As she walked away, she felt Andreas's gaze on her back and knew with a sinking certainty that her carefully constructed world was about to get a lot more complicated.