It feels as though the ground is cracking and breaking beneath my feet. Placing a hand on my chest, I try to control my erratic breathing. "You have lied to me my entire life."

Tears stream down my face and I wipe them profusely, not wanting to be vulnerable. A lump of dreaded emotion forms in my throat and I try my best to swallow but it breaks out of me in a sob. I shake my head, as though it will rid me of this revelation.

"What was I supposed to do? You would have hated me whether I told you or I didn't. Sorry for not wanting my daughter to look at me the way she is now."

"And dad..." the word feels sour on my tongue. "He just played along, or did you make him think that it was his baby?" I ask and she places her thumb and forefinger on her nose, closing her eyes.

"When I met your father, I had already had you, there was no lying on my part. He knew that I had a child with another man, and he was more than accepting. Your father welcomed me with open arms and appreciated that it wouldn't be time to tell you, for a long time, about your real father. But Sebastien has been more of a father than that man ever has. He has loved you like one of his own and I understand this will cause some tension between the both of you, but you must appreciate all that he has done for all of us."

My mind feels as though it is going to explode. "I..." I trail off before stalking towards the back doors. I need time to think and process all of this. Making eye contact with no one as I trail through the house, my cheeks stained with my tears, I make a b-line for my bedroom.

As soon as I am in the safety of those four walls, I crash onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow. Letting out a scream full of fury and anger, I let the plush material swallow the loud noise.

My body feels numb with anger. My entire life has been a lie, the man I have called my father couldn't be further from it. But I also cannot shake the fact that my birth father could still be here on this island, could still live here.

Just that thought sends shivers through me.

Although, I feel no desire to find out his identity. I've lived without him for eighteen years and I've been just fine. He clearly didn't want me seeing as no attempt to connect had been made.

My eyes close at their own accord, my mind begging to rest.

I'm awoken by a soft knock at the door, and I look over to see my father... well, Sebastien, walk in with a small smile. "I understand if you don't want to talk..." he trails off.

"No, it's okay," I say, my voice croaky.

"Your mother said she talked to you about your real father, and I just hope that doesn't change the way you look at me. I hope that it doesn't make me any less of a father to you. Despite you not being my daughter genetically, you will always be my daughter to me. You have the right to be angry but just know that something like this... it's not easy to tell someone. It takes time and understanding," he says, and I feel the tears welling once more.

Wrapping my arms around my father, I try to hold back the tears but fail immensely.

He holds me for a while, telling me how much he loves me and how nothing is going to change. Eventually, he lets go and tells me to rest. Nodding my head, I watch as he leaves the room, softly closing the door behind him.

This doesn't have to rock my world; this is just a small blip that will change my perception of my childhood completely.

I understand my mother's incessant hatred toward Nico and me now but, I won't change who I love because of what happened with my mother. I refuse to let her past change my future.

Deciding on going back to bed, I figure that I should sleep off the misery this day has caused me. Although as I drift off, all I can think is about what else my mother has lied about.

When the bed dips beside me and a heavy arm drapes across my waist, I turn over to face the culprit. Those blue eyes burn into mine with a sweetness one could only find once in a lifetime.

"What happened?" he asks, and I shake my head, wrapping my arms around him in what I am sure is a suffocating hug.

"My mother... she told me the story. Turns out the man I've called father for the past eighteen years of my life isn't who he claims to be. Of course, I'll still see him as my father because that's all I've ever known him as but... my real father is here on the island. When my mother came here with her best friend, she got pregnant, that's why she's so against us," I breathe, the whole thing still feeling like something out of fantasy land.

"How are you feeling?" he asks and I'm glad he didn't comment on the situation or I'm sure I would have lost it completely.

"I don't know... confused? Betrayed? My entire life is a lie. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel," I huff, and Nico smooths my hair, calming me.

"It's okay to not know how you feel. You are handling it much better than most," Nico says and I instantly feel that much lighter. His words are filled with such light that its only option is to chase out the darkness.

Holding onto Nico even tighter, I feel eternal gratitude for him. Even if our time together does become a distant memory, I'll always remember how this man didn't take a second glance before comforting me. How he made me feel seen and how he made me feel appreciated.

"I feel like there's more to the story though, that there is something else she's hiding - I'm just not sure what," I explain, and Nico twirls a piece of my hair between his fingertips.

"Maybe it's best if you process this first before looking for more answers. Especially when there's the possibility you may not like what you find," Nico says, his voice soft and comforting.

Nodding, I nestle into his embrace and let the world fall beneath my feet. I let his arms cocoon me from the hurt and the pain.

Soon after waking up, I notice the empty space beside me and the lack of warmth that once touched my skin. Frowning, I realise Nico's no longer here. He left.

Pots and pans clang downstairs and I furrow my brows. Running a hand through my hair, I get out of bed and expect a commotion in the kitchen. The stairs creek as I walk down them, the brightness of the house irritating my eyes.

As I walk into the kitchen, I squint my eyes, the lights scorching my pupils. "Good evening, sleepy," his voice speaks and my heart swarms with all kinds of feelings.

Finally adjusting to the room, I give him a sweet smile before trailing towards him - sleep fuelling my movements.

Eyeing up the counters, I see chopped vegetables and an array of meat and pasta. "What are you doing? Where is everyone?" I ask. Nico opens his arms wide, and I step into his embrace.

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I rest my head against his chest. Nico's hand moves to my back, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. "Seeing as you've had a rough day, I thought I'd make you dinner. I managed to convince everyone to go out for food and they happily obliged."

Pulling back, I throw him a glowing smile. "You're too kind," I say, meaning it with my entire heart. How could someone be so... full of light.

Nico brings his hands to my hips before placing me on the edge of the counter. "You're only allowed to watch this time," he says before pointing the wooden spoon at me.

Holding my hands up in innocence, I stay seated. "Yes, sir," I say and immediately cringe. Nico looks back at me, a growing smirk on his beautiful lips and I have to focus on anything but him. I did not say that.

Well, my blushed cheeks say otherwise.

"How are you feeling?" Nico asks, obviously treading lightly. I appreciate his concern, but I don't need people walking on eggshells around me. Yes, it was an entirely shitty experience all around and it'll take me more than a while to process but, just for the moment, I want to forget about it. I want to be in the kitchen and watch the man I think I love cook dinner for me.

Love. It is such a strange notion. People like to put a timeline on it. Saying that love can only develop over time, that love at first sight isn't real. People also like to say that you can't love a certain person... that's there's a "normal" in love. But the truth is... love can appear in a heartbeat. There's no set characteristics - love comes in all different shapes and sizes and timeframes. When people realise that, it can be a truly beautiful thing.

"I'm fine," I nod, and Nico furrows his brows, not believing me. "Seriously," I nod my head, making it much more convincing.

"Okay," Nico says, not sounding one bit convinced but allowing me to not want to talk just yet. "I hope you're hungry... I grabbed whatever was in the cupboards. It's a meaty pasta dish with a side of vegetables," he explains as he dropped some chopped tomatoes into the pan.

The smell is beyond decadent and my stomach rumbles, telling us just how hungry I am. "I'm starving," I say. The events of the last twenty-four hours have given me whiplash causing me to forget to supply my body with food.

Nico's hand halts and he faces me. "You can't forget to eat, amore mio. For that, you will be getting an even bigger portion," Nico says with the utmost certainty.

Giving him a small laugh, I realise that I'm not ready for him to leave after dinner. "Can you stay tonight? As long as you don't have work or anything tomorrow," I say and he smiles before returning to the pan, stirring the pasta in with the melted cheese.

"Of course, I won't leave. I do have to help out with the opening of the restaurant, so I'll have to leave early but that's fine," Nico says and I feel bad. "I sleep much better with you, anyway."

I experience the exact same. Sleeping without him, I wake up drowsy and it takes me a while to even think about getting up. But with him, I wake up refreshed... as though I can take on the endless missions of the day.

When dinner is served, I sit opposite Nico and run a hand through my hair. I can't count how many times I have repeated that anxious movement the past few hours. Taking a bite, I close my eyes and drown in the warmth of the food. "It's really good," I say.

My phone buzzes beside me, Calli's name flashing on the screen, and I huff. I love her but I cannot for the life of me repeat the situation to yet another person. "What's wrong?" Nico asks and I shake my head.

"Nothing, it's Calli. I just can't talk about it again... not yet," I say, running my hand through my hair, yet again. Nico gives me a comforting smile.

Holding out his hand he says, "Come here." Obliging, I take his hand and he pulls me onto his lap before grazing my bowl of pasta against the table and towards us. "I can't see you like this and not hold you," he whispers, kissing my shoulder.

Nico's arm remains around my waist as he eats with his free hand. Bringing the bowl to me, I continue to eat and relish in the feeling of Nico pressed against me. When I eventually grow full, I tuck my legs to my chest and rest my head against the crook of Nico's neck.

"Thank you, honestly," I say, and Nico brings his other arm around me. The second week was almost over, and time had flown. Time was slipping through my fingers and there wasn't a single thing I could do to stop it. Just when I thought my body was as dry as the Sahara Desert, my eyes fill with tears - my chest already in pain. I'm not ready for it to be over.

I haven't a clue how I am going to leave this island, leave Nico.

"Why are you crying?" Nico says, almost in disbelief. I'm a soppy mess and I'm embarrassing myself at this point. Shaking my head, I stand up and trail towards the bathroom. I need to calm down and get a grip.

Closing the door behind me, I splash water onto my face, hoping it works like it does in the movies but to no avail. Drying my face, I take deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Repeat.

What was supposed to be a sweet family holiday has turned into a shitshow... to say the least.