Page 29 of The Lies Of Omission (Without Limits #3)

SIN

T he sea was like glass this morning. It mirrored the pale blush of dawn, broken only by the trail my footprints left behind in the sand.

The estate loomed behind me—marble and money and control—but out here, with the wind threading through my hair and the tide licking at my ankles, I could almost pretend the world beyond this island didn’t exist.

Theo was already gone, off to some meeting I wasn’t allowed to ask about.

I didn’t push. I knew he’d find his way back to me when everything was done.

He’d been different since the moment he appeared at the apartment yesterday.

I was under no illusion this version of him was here to stay, but I was happy living in denial for the next couple of days.

Maybe that would have to be enough.

The water beckoned like a lullaby, and I waded in until it swallowed my knees, hips, and ribs.

The ocean wrapped around me like a balm, warm and salty and still.

Out here, there were no relentless whispers of failure and disappointment, no threats of futures built in someone else’s image.

Just this—sunlight breaking through cloud cover, the sound of waves against the shore, and the sting of salt on my lips.

When I dove under, the world went silent.

For a moment, I let it all fall away. The lies. The pain. The need that wrapped itself around my ribs like barbed wire. Underwater, there was only weightlessness. Peace.

I surfaced, dragging my hair back from my eyes, gasping, heart pounding, lungs burning, wishing I could stay down there forever. Wishing I could drown in this illusion we’d built together—this fragile dream strung together with glances and stolen touches and the lies we told ourselves to survive.

By the time the sun was high in the cloudless blue sky, I was dry and sun-warmed, lounging in the sand, eyes half-closed, letting the breeze tug through my hair.

A sigh slipped past my lips at the thought of moving.

I’d have to walk back up to the estate soon because I’d been here for hours, but before I did that, I needed to cool off.

The golden sand scorched the soles of my feet as I sprinted across it, laughing softly as I slipped into the sea’s cool embrace. I dove beneath the surface, letting the saltwater wash over me, loosening the tension in my muscles as I swam further from the shore.

Flipping onto my back, I floated, rising and falling with the rhythm of the waves, the current cradling me like a lullaby. The water’s steady cadence soothed the frayed edges of my mind. I smiled up at the sky for the first time in what felt like months. I breathed easily.

Eventually, I dove deep again, slicing through the endless blue, steeling myself to head back in for a quick shower. I hoped Theo would be back soon—I was itching to explore the island.

When I finally broke the surface, blinking salt from my eyes, I saw him.

Theo stood where the trees met the sand in the shadows, shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to the elbows, a look on his face that said he’d been watching me for a while. Tracking every move like I was a flame he couldn’t help but walk toward, even knowing it would burn him alive.

I waved, headed back into shallower water and waited. Watching him watch me, the corners of his lips twitched as he moved.

He walked to me, through the shallows, clothes getting soaked, not caring.

That was so unlike the Theo I’d come to know.

The one he showed the world back in Brookhaven Ridge.

Maybe we were both living in an alternate reality here.

He stopped in front of me, hands rising to cup my face like he was afraid I’d vanish if he looked away. His touch was warm. Grounding.

“You looked like you were trying to disappear,” he said softly.

“Was I?”

His thumb dragged across my cheekbone, slow and reverent. Looking at me like I wasn’t already broken. “Don’t. Not from me.”

I kissed him, unable to help myself—salt-slick, breathless, and messy. Our lips dueled like the world was ending and this was the only way to survive it.

When we pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, his breath heavy against my lips. “Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s waste this day pretending it’s ours.”

And we did.

We wandered through winding, sun-drenched streets hand-in-hand, lost in the blur of color, drunk on heat, laughter and the lie of something more. Theo haggled in perfect Spanish for street food we ate off paper plates, fingers brushing, laughter bubbling in our throats.

He bought me a carved sea-glass pendant from a stall run by an old man with cloudy eyes and too many stories. He pulled it over my head, the chain cool against my sun-warmed skin.

“It matches your eyes,” he said.

“Before or after I start crying?” I joked.

He looked at me, all serious and soft. “Always. But don’t cry. Not today.”

I grinned. “Couldn’t if I tried.”

We swam in hidden coves and kissed behind the waves.

He pressed me against sun-warmed rocks and laughed into my skin, teeth grazing the shell of my ear like he couldn’t stop tasting me.

We played like people who didn’t have knives at their backs.

Like the world wouldn’t tear us apart if only given the chance.

Even though we never said it, we both knew it wasn’t real. Not in the way the world demanded.

But the way he held my hand, fingers laced like a lifeline—that was real.

The way his voice softened when he said my name, like it was something precious, like I was something precious.

That was real.

That night, I dragged myself out of the shower like I was peeling off a second skin. My body was clean, but my soul was still steeped in everything I couldn’t scrub away. I dressed slowly, mechanically, and stepped barefoot onto the terrace.

And froze.

A path of fire stretched out before me.

Flaming torches punctured the darkness, lighting up the sand like constellations had fallen from the sky. The southern curve of the beach shimmered in their glow, the ocean an endless sweep of midnight and indigo, the last sliver of sunset bleeding into the horizon.

And there he was. My Theo, standing in the center of it all like he belonged to the gods.

Barefoot, shirt half-unbuttoned, dark strands tousled by the salt-kissed breeze.

A rare, unguarded smile split his face, soft and devastating.

His green eyes glowed in the torchlight, bright with hunger, with heat, with something dangerously close to love.

A table waited between us. Candlelight flickered over porcelain and silver. Champagne nestled in ice. Two plates. One night carved out of the chaos of our lives.

“You did all this?” I asked, my voice catching.

He shrugged, almost bashful. “You deserved one moment that didn’t belong to the world. You deserve peace.”

“This is peace?” I stepped closer.

“This is us, ” he said, quietly. “Uninterrupted. For now.”

We ate delicious freshly caught lobster, perfectly cooked steak, followed by a rich chocolate pudding.

Not much was said at first. Our fingers brushed, and our toes tangled beneath the table in the sand.

The sound of the waves crashing on the shore filled the silence, but time was slipping through our fingers like water, no matter how tightly we held on.

Every bite I took tasted like a memory I’d already begun mourning.

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly.

“That I want this to last forever,” I admitted. “Even though I know….” My gaze dropped to my plate as I swallowed down the words I dared not to say.

He stared at his glass, his gaze refusing to meet mine. “It could.”

“No,” I said, voice firm. “Not with your father breathing down your neck. Not with the life I’ve been forced into. You and I are now part of different worlds.”

He met my eyes eventually. Something flickered in his. Pain. Guilt. Fury. “Then why does it feel like you’re the only person I’ve ever belonged to?”

I swallowed hard. “Because I am. And you’re mine.”

Silence stretched between us, only broken by the sound of the waves and the wind rustling the fauna.

I exhaled. “This isn’t just about us anymore. It’s about him, and you know it.” His jaw flexed. “Don’t lie to me, Theo. Don’t protect him. He wouldn’t protect you.”

“I’m not protecting him,” he said. “I’m surviving him.”

“Then fight him. Not for me. For you. For the person you are when he’s not watching.”

“I’m trying.”

“No. You’re not.” My voice cracked. “Try harder. You don’t get to want me with half your heart.”

His chair scraped against the sand as he stood and moved toward me. He knelt beside me, both hands wrapping around mine.

“You’re everything I never thought I could have.

You want the truth? I’m terrified. Every second of every day.

Because I know this is temporary, and I know I’m going to lose you.

No matter how much I wish I could keep you.

” He sighed like the world was crushing him.

“No matter how much I want you, I…fear I’m not enough. ”

I leaned forward, touching my forehead to his. “Then stop counting down the time we have left and fucking take it.”

We stood. Slowly. Wordlessly. Totally in sync. Fingers laced, hearts bleeding. We walked the shoreline, waves whispering at our ankles as we wandered back to the estate. The silence stretched again, this time heavy, swollen with everything we didn’t know how to say.

“He’s going to find out,” I murmured.

“I know.”

“And when he does?—”

Theo stopped by the flaming torches that led back to our room. He turned, cupped my face, and buried his hand in the hair at the back of my head, anchoring me like I was the only real thing left. “Then let’s make this count. Let’s burn the world down around us if we have to.”