Unbroken by Secrets

Camera, lights, and action; vacations, shopping, and investments; luxury or nothing—this was Skylar’s daily routine. In a world where power dictated everything, Skylar was untouchable. As a beautiful, sexy, slender, wealthy, and ambitious woman, her presence commanded attention. Men flocked to her, captivated by her sharp features and fierce confidence, but to her, they were mere distractions. None of them measured up to her expectations. They never could. At 23 years old, Skylar had two core fears: marriage and childbirth. Both represented traps in her mind, cages that could lock away her independence and cripple her ambition. She had built a world that revolved around her career, thriving as a model and singer, with no space for emotional vulnerability. Love, with its promises and complications, was nothing more than a chain, and she had vowed never to wear it. Her siblings, Hasil and Owen, were her only family aside from their aging father, Mr. Rayner. Together, they took care of him, but the family dynamic was strained. Hasil and Owen, though supportive, didn’t understand Skylar’s choices. They saw her beauty, her fame, but couldn’t comprehend her refusal to embrace the traditional path they felt was inevitable for a woman of her age. On this particular Saturday, the sky was a blanket of thick, grey clouds, hinting at rain. Skylar, dressed in silky pajamas that clung to her lithe figure, stood on the balcony of her luxurious home. The cold breeze brushed against her skin as she stared at a bird perched on a nearby tree branch. Its song was melancholic, almost reflective of the inner solitude she rarely acknowledged. She loved moments like this—brief pockets of silence where the world around her seemed to slow down. But Skylar wasn’t a woman who lingered in silence for long. She had plans. Today, she was scheduled for a photo shoot, and every second wasted meant more pressure later. As she turned to head back inside, the door creaked open, and her father, Mr. Rayner, stepped onto the balcony. His steps were slow, showing the weight of age. “Good morning, Dad,” Skylar greeted, smiling faintly. “Good morning, dear,” he replied, gently patting her back as he joined her in watching the distant horizon. “It looks like you’re enjoying the view out here.” She chuckled softly, “Yeah, the weather’s nice, and it’s a rare moment to unwind. You know, work is hectic.” “I can imagine. It’s not easy strutting in front of cameras all the time, especially in those tight dresses you wear.” She laughed at his typical fatherly comment. “Well, that’s the price I pay for the life I live. I can’t complain.” Mr. Rayner shifted his weight, his tone becoming more serious. “I wanted to talk to you. Could you meet us in the living room? It’s important.” Skylar raised a brow, sensing the familiar undertone. “Important how?” she asked cautiously. “Don’t worry, it’ll be quick. Just a small discussion.” She exhaled, knowing what was coming but deciding not to argue—for now. “Alright, Dad. I’ll join you soon.” As her father headed back inside, Skylar stood still for a moment, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Another lecture about marriage, no doubt, she thought. That topic had become a recurring theme in her life, one that she had no interest in entertaining. Frustrated but resigned, she headed to her bedroom to get ready. Despite her reluctance, she opted to take a shower, knowing her father’s ‘quick talks’ often lasted longer than promised. After her shower, she dressed in an effortlessly chic outfit—a white blouse paired with tailored trousers and her signature designer heels. Her appearance was always a priority, even if she wasn’t particularly excited about where she was going. Descending the stairs, Skylar found her father and her two brothers waiting for her in the living room. The room itself was a testament to her success—sleek, modern furniture, expensive art on the walls, and a large crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Skylar made her way to the couch opposite her father, crossing her legs and folding her arms. Mr. Rayner adjusted his posture, his face softening with fatherly concern. “Skylar, we are proud of you. Everything you’ve achieved—it’s remarkable. You’ve become the backbone of this family. But,” he paused, as though weighing his words, “don’t you think something’s missing from your life?” Here we go again, Skylar thought, rolling her eyes internally. She prepared herself for the same old conversation, mentally formulating her responses. “And what might that be, Dad?” she asked, her voice neutral but guarded. “A man. You need a man, sis,” Hasil interjected, his tone more forceful than their father’s. “You’re twenty-three, and time isn’t on your side.” Skylar let out a sharp sigh, her patience wearing thin. “You can’t be serious. I am only twenty-three. Twenty-three!” She glared at her brother, her voice rising slightly. “And even if I were older, what makes you think I’m interested in marriage or kids? I have a career, one that I’ve worked hard for. A man—marriage—none of that fits into my life right now.” “You’re not getting any younger,” Owen added softly, but his words stung. Skylar shot him a glare, her hands clenching into fists. “And what? You think I should just throw myself at the first guy who promises me a ring? Let me ask you something. Do either of you plan on giving up your lives and careers for a family right now?” Her brothers remained silent, their discomfort palpable. “Exactly,” she continued. “So why is it different for me? Why should I sacrifice my dreams because of some outdated notion of what women are ‘supposed’ to do?” Mr. Rayner cleared his throat, sensing the tension. “Skylar, it’s not about sacrifice. It’s about balance. We want to see you happy, and happiness isn’t just about success.” “Who says I’m not happy?” Skylar snapped. “Just because I’m not running off to get married doesn’t mean I’m incomplete.” Mr. Rayner sighed. “We just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret not building a family.” Skylar stood abruptly, grabbing her purse. “I don’t have time for this. I have a shoot to get to. We’ll talk about this another time—maybe.” Her brothers exchanged glances, and Mr. Rayner opened his mouth as if to say more, but Skylar was already heading for the door. She drove off, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface. The conversation replayed in her mind as she navigated the streets of the city. Why can’t they understand? she thought. Marriage isn’t for me—not now, not ever. Twenty minutes later, she arrived at the photo shoot location. Mr. Wanda, her manager, was waiting for her near the entrance, his expression one of mild irritation. “You’re late,” he said, not bothering to hide his disapproval. “I know, I know. Family stuff,” she responded dismissively. “But I’m here now, so let’s get started.” Mr. Wanda sighed but didn’t press the issue. He was a man of strict discipline, and while he valued Skylar’s talent, he expected punctuality and professionalism. “Go inside and get ready. They’ll prep you for the shoot.” Skylar followed him inside, quickly slipping into work mode. The studio was buzzing with activity—makeup artists, photographers, assistants—all moving in a well-choreographed dance. As she sat in the makeup chair, she let her mind drift away from the morning’s drama, focusing instead on the task at hand. Her moment of peace was interrupted by Mr. Wanda’s voice. “Your partner for the shoot is late.” Skylar arched a brow, glancing at him through the mirror. “And who might that be?” “Xavier. He’s a businessman who models part-time.” “Never heard of him,” she muttered, unimpressed. “Just be patient. He’ll be here soon,” Mr. Wanda said, sensing her annoyance. Moments later, the doors to the studio opened, and a tall, dark, and well-built man entered with an air of confidence. His dimples deepened as he smiled at Mr. Wanda. “Xavier, nice to see you,” Mr. Wanda greeted him warmly. “Likewise,” Xavier responded before turning to Skylar. “You must be Skylar. It’s a pleasure.” She glanced at him briefly, offering a firm handshake. “Likewise. Shall we get to work?” The photo shoot went smoothly, though Skylar couldn’t help but feel mildly irritated by Xavier’s relaxed demeanor. He seemed too comfortable, too at ease with her, as though they were old friends. It was both unnerving and oddly intriguing. After the shoot, Xavier approached her again, his tone light but inquisitive. “So, what’s your story, Skylar?” “My story?” she repeated, taken aback by the question. “Yeah, I mean, there’s always more beneath the surface, right?” Skylar smirked. “Not much to tell. I’m just a twenty-three-year-old trying to live her best life.” “Is that so?” Xavier chuckled, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to read between the lines of her response. “I don’t believe that for a second,” he said, his voice carrying a playful challenge. “Everyone has a story, Skylar. Especially someone like you. The tabloids may paint a picture, but I’m sure there’s more.” Skylar raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. “Oh, really? And what makes you think you’re entitled to know mine? You don’t even know me.” She crossed her arms, intrigued yet defensive. Xavier was prying in a way she wasn’t used to, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. “True,” Xavier admitted, smiling. “But that’s what makes life interesting, doesn’t it? Getting to know people, seeing what makes them tick.” Skylar hesitated for a moment, then let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’ve got quite the nerve, don’t you?” “I get that a lot,” he grinned, his deep dimples making an appearance again. “So, how about we get to know each other over dinner tonight?” Skylar gave him a sideways glance, folding her arms. “Dinner? With a guy I just met?” “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Xavier said smoothly. “Consider it a friendly invitation—no pressure.” She let his offer hang in the air for a moment, studying him. Xavier was charming, sure, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t like the usual men who tried to impress her. He wasn’t fawning over her or pushing for something more. He seemed genuinely interested—and that, in itself, made her suspicious. But something about his laid-back confidence was appealing. Besides, it was just dinner. Nothing more. She could handle that. “Fine,” she said, meeting his gaze. “Where and when?” “I’ll text you the details,” Xavier replied, his smile widening. “But let’s say 7:30?” “Alright, then,” she nodded, already mentally adjusting her plans. “But don’t think this means anything.” “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he teased, backing away. “See you tonight, Skylar.” As he left the room, Skylar found herself watching him go, her thoughts racing. What’s the harm? she thought. It was just dinner. But even as she tried to dismiss the encounter, something about Xavier’s easy charm and persistence lingered in her mind. --- Later that evening, Skylar stood in front of her bedroom mirror, inspecting her reflection. She had chosen a sleek black dress, fitted but not too flashy, with her hair falling loosely over her shoulders. Her makeup was subtle, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and full lips. She looked every bit the confident woman she was, but there was an edge of nervousness in her movements as she applied the finishing touches. Why am I nervous? she wondered, staring at her reflection. It wasn’t like this was her first date—or even a real date. But something about Xavier had gotten under her skin. He wasn’t like the men she usually encountered, the ones who tried to impress her with flashy cars or expensive gifts. He was confident but not arrogant, curious but not intrusive. And that unsettled her. With a final glance in the mirror, Skylar grabbed her purse and headed out the door, determined to keep her guard up. --- Xavier and Nigel were already seated at the restaurant when Skylar arrived. The place was upscale but not ostentatious—a balance between elegance and comfort. As she approached their table, she noticed Nigel’s impatient expression, while Xavier’s face lit up with a smile. “You’re late,” Nigel said bluntly as she sat down. Skylar raised an eyebrow at him, unfazed by his bluntness. “Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?” “Glad you could make it,” Xavier said, his tone warm and welcoming. Skylar gave him a quick smile before turning her attention to Nigel. “And you must be the famous friend who never leaves his side?” Nigel smirked. “That would be me.” “Well, nice to meet you,” she said, though her tone was slightly guarded. Something about Nigel’s sharp gaze made her feel like he was sizing her up, judging her. The waiter came over to take their orders, and the trio fell into casual conversation. Xavier asked about her career, and though Skylar gave her usual surface-level answers—focusing on her success as a model and singer—Xavier’s questions were more insightful than she had expected. He wasn’t asking about the glamorous parts of her life; he wanted to know about the grind, the challenges, and what kept her going. “So, do you ever get tired of it?” Xavier asked, swirling his wine in the glass. “Tired of what?” Skylar asked, her tone curious. “Of being in the spotlight, always being on display.” Skylar hesitated for a moment before answering, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her glass. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “But it’s what I signed up for. I thrive on it. I love the control it gives me—the way I can shape my own narrative. In this industry, if you’re not in control, you’re at the mercy of everyone else. I refuse to be at anyone’s mercy.” Xavier nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. You’re the type of person who doesn’t like feeling vulnerable.” “Exactly,” she replied, surprised at how easily the words came out. She hadn’t meant to be so open, but Xavier had a way of making her feel comfortable. Nigel, who had been listening quietly, suddenly spoke up. “And what about love? Do you think that makes you vulnerable?” Skylar stiffened slightly, her guard going up again. “Love?” she repeated, her voice edged with skepticism. “I don’t believe in love. Not in the way people romanticize it, anyway. It’s just another way for people to lose themselves. I’d rather keep my head on straight.” Nigel exchanged a look with Xavier, but neither of them said anything. The silence hung in the air for a moment before Xavier broke it, changing the subject. --- After dinner, Xavier offered to drive Skylar home. She hesitated for a moment but eventually agreed, not wanting to appear too aloof. The car ride was quiet at first, with Xavier focused on the road and Skylar lost in her thoughts. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something about tonight had shifted her perspective, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it. “You know,” Xavier said softly as they neared her house, “you don’t have to be so guarded all the time. It’s okay to let people in.” Skylar turned to him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And what makes you think you know anything about me?” Xavier glanced at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “I don’t. Not yet. But I’d like to.” Skylar’s heart skipped a beat, though she quickly composed herself. “Well, good luck with that,” she said, her voice cool but not dismissive. Xavier smiled, parking the car in front of her house. “I’ll take my chances.” Skylar stepped out of the car, glancing back at him as she closed the door. “Goodnight, Xavier.” “Goodnight, Skylar,” he replied, watching her until she disappeared inside. As she walked through the door and into the quiet darkness of her home, Skylar couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of anticipation. Xavier was different—different from anyone she’d met before. And despite herself, she was intrigued. But I can’t let this go too far, she reminded herself, shaking off the thought as she headed to her room. I’ve got too much to lose. Still, as she lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to let someone in—just this once.