What Fate Stole From Me

Chapter 2: The Confrontation

POV: Maya

"Maya."

We froze.

I turned slowly, my stomach sinking. Samuel stood just beyond the palm trees, the sunlight carving shadows across his face, his eyes dark with disappointment, disbelief and fury.

"Samuel-It can't be..."

"I'll talk to him," James said. Stepping forward, bracing himself.

"No, I have to," I insisted, already pulling away before either man could speak again. The sand feeling cool beneath my feet as I closed the distance. "Please, let me explain, I tried to reach you in England-I swear I did. I wanted to tell you our relationship was over."

His eyes were bright with tears and his voice heavy with betrayal. "I thought you wanted me to come back sooner. But I never imagined..." His voice broke as he spoke. "...that you'd fall in love with another man."

"You left me, Samuel. You left me alone for three years." The words came sharper than I expected, but inside they trembled.

"You don't have to explain," he said sharply, holding up a hand. Putting distance between us, as if my touch burnt him. "What I just saw was enough." His gaze darted towards James with a flash of anger. I could almost feel the heat of his anger.

"Samuel, I was sixteen. I didn't know what I wanted. My mother pushed me to say yes to you... but I was never in love with you."

His mouth curved into a humorless smile. "It's obvious our families care more about this marriage than we do. And now I see you're not worth it. Where's the ring?" He grabbed my hand to see if I was wearing it.

"I stopped wearing it months ago," I admitted. "But I'll give it back," I said, pulling my hand away from him.

"Keep it," he snapped. "Sell it, You'll need the money. Your family will need the power."

He shot one last burning look at James, then turned and walked away, the sound of his footsteps fading under the rustle of the palms.

"Samuel..." My voice was barely a whisper. I covered my face with trembling hands, the tears coming hot and fast, blurring the world. But somewhere inside, guilt and relief tangled into something i couldn't name. Three years of distance, and still I had hurt him in a way that would last longer than our engagement ever had.

James was behind me in an instant. Wrapping me in his arms, almost possessive, his chest warmed against my back. His lips brushed my cheek. "It's going to be alright, baby."

I wanted to believe him. I wanted his words to be strong enough to hold back the tide of everything I knew was coming-my father's disapproval, my mother's anger, and the whispering mouths of Agua Azul. I could feel the tension in him-the way his chest stayed taut against my back. And at that moment, I wasn't sure if he was comforting me... or holding on to make sure I didn't slip away.

"I should have been more careful," I said finally, pulling my hands away. The sunlight caught the wetness on my cheeks. "I told you... not here, not now."

James shifted, so I was facing him. His dark eyes searched for mine, soft but unyielding. "And I told you I'm tired of pretending we're nothing. I don't care who knows."

"I care," I said, more sharply than I meant to. "You don't understand my family-"

"Your family isn't the one I'm in love with." His voice was low, steady, but there was a tension in it, like a rope pulled too tight.

I dropped my gaze to his collar, to the rise and fall of his chest. The truth was, I loved him enough to risk everything-at least, I thought I did. But risk feels different when it suddenly has a face and a name.

"We'll handle this," he said, brushing a stand of hair from my cheek. If Samuel talks, let him. It doesn't change what we have."

"It changes everything," I whispered.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he pulled me against him, one hand on the back of my head, the other at my waist, as though holding me tighter could keep the world out.

But even in his embrace, I felt the world pressing in. Somewhere beyond the beach, I thought I heard voices-low, urgent and far too close.

POV: Sebastian

That same morning in the Hacienda Almonet.

I stepped quietly into my boss's bedroom. The air was heavy with the scent of medicine and something faintly metallic, as though illness itself had a smell. On the massive bed, Mr. Almonte lay propped against his pillows, his breathing shallow and ragged, as each breath cost him something.

Closing the door softly behind me, I crossed the room and adjusted one of the pillows, easing it behind his back so he could sit up a little straighter. His eyes flickered open at my touch-sharp, watchful despite his weakness.

"Where is Pastor Cullen?" His voice was strained, almost a whisper. "I need to see him urgently."

"He should be here any moment, sir. We sent for him just a few minutes ago," I said. "Why don't you let one of the maids stay with you? You shouldn't be alone."

"No." His eyes darted toward the door, burned with a mixture of pride and suspicion. "I only true you, Sebastian. If it were up to the vultures in this hacienda, I'd already be dead, and they'd be stripping the place bare so they wouldn't leave empty-handed."

I frowned. "Don't talk like that, sir. If anyone here wanted to steal from you, don't you think they'd have done it long ago?"

"You think so? Poison works slowly, Sebastian. Sometimes you don't taste it at all." His eyes lingered on the untouched glass of water at his bedside.

I didn't answer, and he studied me for a moment, then changed the subject. "Pastor Cullen tells me you managed to finish your degree at the university."

I nodded. "A lot of hard work and sacrifice... but yes, I finally graduated."

A faint smile touched his lips. "If your parents were alive, they'd be proud of you, Sebastian. Keep your wits about you, boy. Education isn't the only thing that will save you in this world."

Before I could respond, the door opened and Pastor Cullen stepped in, his expression grave.

"I'm glad you're here," I said. "Mr. Almonte has been asking for you without rest."

"How is he?" the pastor asked quietly.

I shook my head. He understood without further words.

"Leave us alone, son," Pastor Cullen murmured.

I hesitated, glancing once more at the glass of water by his bed, then quietly stepped out, closing the door behind me.

I headed toward the stables for the usual round of maintenance. The stables smelled of hay and warm earth as i slipped inside, ready for the morning's work. I moved from stall to stall-feeding and watering each horse, clearing out the soiled bedding, replacing it with fresh straw.

The steady rhythm of the chores was almost something. A few horses needed grooming, so I waved over a couple of the guys to help. I was running a brush along the sleek neck of a restless bay when the sound of tires crunching over gravel broke the quiet. A black, polished car slid into view, its window so dark I couldn't see a thing inside.

But the way it moved-slow, deliberate-left me to wonder who might be inside.

When the sheriff stepped out, recognition hit me at once. Instead of waiting, I forced myself to walk towards the car. After all, it was my responsibility to see if they needed anything.