I understand perfectly,” I said, stepping back. “It means doing what I’m told, pretending to be perfect, living a life that isn’t mine. You’ve ruined my childhood, and now you want to ruin my love life? Didn’t you love my mom before you married her? Didn’t you? Did you marry her out of the blue? So why can’t it be the same with me ? Why can’t I choose who I want to be with? Oh, I get it. You think I’ll end up with a harlot, right? That’s what you all think. Well, I get it. It’s your empire, not mine. No thanks.”

I said as I turned on my heel and walked out, my mother calling after me.

“James, please!”

But I was already gone, the echo of my footsteps drowned out her voice.

The next few days passed in a blur. Work. Silence. My parents’ disappointment hangs over me like fog. But throughout, I kept thinking of her. The woman I couldn’t find, the one who felt like a secret the universe was keeping from me.

Then one afternoon, fate decided to play its hand.

I had stopped by a supermarket near the edge of the city, nothing fancy, just a quiet place where I could breathe without the Burking name hovering over me. I picked up a few things, coffee mostly, trying to ignore the curious stares from a few people who recognized me.

And then, I saw her.

It was her walk that caught my eye first. The slight sway of her shoulders, the way her hair brushed the side of her face. For a second, I thought I was imagining it. But when she turned, her eyes met mine, startled and wide.

It was her.

Before I could think, I called out. “Hey! Hey, you!”

She froze, then did the last thing I expected: she dropped her basket and took off running.

“Wait!” I shouted, weaving through the aisles after her. People turned, whispering, but I didn’t care. I pushed through the automatic doors and spotted her outside, halfway across the lot.

“Stop!” I yelled.

She didn’t. But I was faster. I caught up, reaching out to grab her gently by the elbow. “Where are you running to?”

She turned, tears already in her eyes. “Please,” she whispered, voice shaking. “Please don’t get mad.”

I blinked. “Mad? About what?”

“I didn’t mean to do it,” she said, her voice trembling as tears slid down her cheeks. “You were just… You were stunning, and I was under the influence of alcohol too. I didn’t mean to—” just then I kissed her on her lips, calm down , I said to her, holding her face in my hands. Calm down, okay. But she kept ranting .“Whoa, whoa,” I said quickly, confusion washing over me. “What are you talking about?”

She looked up, her eyes wet and scared. “You’re not angry about last night?”

I stared at her for a long moment. Then I shook my head slowly. “No. I’ve been searching for you.”

Her eyes widened. “You have?”

“Yes,” I said, my tone softening. “I just wanted to know your name.” I mean, you gave me a weird ass call, and you didn’t say anything after that. She laughed, and I watched as Relief broke across her face like sunlight after rain. “Oh, thank God,” she whispered, brushing away a tear. “I thought you hated me. I thought I’d ruined everything.”

I smiled faintly. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

She took a breath, steadier now. “I’m Anna. Anna Daly.”

“James,” I said, offering my hand. “James Burking.”

The name didn’t seem to register. She didn’t flinch, didn’t stare, didn’t whisper Oh, the Burkings. Just smiled shyly, her eyes still red from crying.

“So,” I said lightly, “what are you doing in the city?”

“I moved here last week,” she said. “I got a new job, administrative work for a local design company. It’s small, but it’s mine.”

There was pride in her voice, and something about it made me smile. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

We exchanged numbers before parting, a quiet understanding lingering in the air, something unfinished but fragile, waiting to unfold.

When I returned home later that evening, the house was buzzing with voices. I stepped inside and instantly recognized them—the Halls. Clarissa’s parents. My supposed future in-laws.

Of course.

My father was laughing too loudly in the sitting room, while my mother smiled the way only she could, pretending everything was perfect.

I didn’t say a word. I just walked past, my shoes clicking against the marble floor.

“James,” my father called sharply. “Respect, James. Disrespect will ruin your dignity as heir to this throne!”

I didn’t answer. Didn’t even turn around. I just kept walking up the stairs, the noise fading behind me.

In my room, I sank onto the bed and pulled out my phone.

Anna’s number glowed on the screen.

For a moment, I hesitated. Then I called.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, uncertain.

“Hey,” I said, lying back. “It’s James.”

“Oh,” she said, and I could hear her smile. “Hi.”

We talked. About nothing and everything. About the city, about her new job, about how she didn’t know many people here yet. She laughed easily, and every time she did, I felt a weight lift from my chest.

Hours passed without me realizing. When the clock hit midnight, I was still listening to her voice, tracing lazy patterns on the bedsheet with my fingers.

She was kind. Honest. Ordinary in the most extraordinary way.

When we finally hung up, I stared at the ceiling, the faint sound of laughter from downstairs still echoing in my mind.

“She’s a sweet girl,” I whispered to myself.

But then another voice, my own, colder and more guarded, whispered back.

Don’t fall in love again, James. You can’t afford to.

I closed my eyes.

“We’ll just talk,” I murmured. “Nothing more. We can continue this until she moves on.”

But even as the words left my lips, I knew they were a lie.

Because something about Anna Daly had already started to pull at the walls I’d spent years building.

And deep down, I feared that this, whatever it was , was going to change everything.