Fate passion

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

n 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

asized 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

ering 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