My mind races. “Help you? I’ll help you with anything. I hope you know that.”
He opens a folder on the table and takes out a newspaper.
His professional mask slips for a moment, revealing a flash of concern. “Benedict, who are you?”
He unfolds the paper, and my world implodes.
There, splashed across the front page in full color, is a photo of us. Kissing. In my backyard. It must have been taken the morning after he stayed over. The headline screams: REVEALED: The Secret Hideout of Benedict Montgomery!
I can’t breathe. The room spins as memories flood back—paparazzi, invasive questions, my privacy shattered. Everything I’d run from, everything I’d built my quiet life to avoid. It’s all crashing down around me.
“No,” I whisper, stumbling backward. “No, no, no…”
Zeke reaches for me, but I flinch away. “Benedict,” he says, his voice gentle. “Talk to me. Why is this photo such a big deal? I know it’s an invasion of privacy, but your reaction… There’s more to it, isn’t there?”
I want to explain, but panic claws at my throat. My thoughts are a jumbled mess of fear and flight instincts. Run. Hide. Protect yourself.
“I can’t,” I choke out. “I can’t do this again. The scrutiny, the judgment, my whole life picked apart…”
Zeke’s brow furrows. “Again? Benedict, what do you mean?”
But I’m spiraling, my breath coming in short gasps. The walls feel like they’re closing in. I need air. I need to escape.
“I have to go,” I manage, backing toward the door. “I’m sorry, Zeke. I just… I can’t.”
I fumble for the doorknob, my vision blurring with unshed tears. As I wrench the door open, I hear Zeke call after me, his voice a mix of confusion and concern. “Benedict, wait! Please, let me help you!”
I pause, my hand on the doorknob, Zeke’s plea echoing in my ears. My heart pounds like it wants to break free from my chest, but something in his voice makes me hesitate. I turn back, meeting his concerned gaze, and suddenly, the words I’ve held back for so long come tumbling out.
“I come from media royalty.” I laugh at the words I’ve heard all my life because now I’m standing in an actual royal palace. “My dad owned one of the biggest news agencies in the US. I grew up in the public eye and learned early on that I was expected to behave a certain way.”
Zeke’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t interrupt. He just nods, encouraging me to continue.
“When I was fourteen, I was caught kissing a friend. The photo wasn’t that clear, but the tabloids, the paparazzi…? They were relentless,” I say, sinking into a nearby chair. “My dad sat me down and told me he would take care of it for me. I didn’t know what it meant. It wasn’t until weeks later that I discovered my friend had moved to a different state. I was so upset because he was my best friend, and I thought he liked me like I liked him. He was going to be my first boyfriend. Of course my dad couldn’t have the image of his perfect family tarnished by a gay heir.”
“Oh, Benedict, I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Zeke says, reaching over to hold my hand.
“It was fine. I also learned very quickly that there were many other guys like me in the social circles. We were all in the closet together, and as long as we could keep it that way, we could keep pretending to the rest of the world.”
“Why did you run to Lydovia?” Zeke asks.
I meet his eyes. Zeke plays the player so well, but I know he has much more depth than he lets show.
“My parents both died a few years ago. I didn’t come out then because old habits die hard, and I was in love with someone who was also not out. Nothing would change for us, so I was happy to have what I could from him. Someone we both knew orchestrated a stunt with the press and outed us. I found out later that the guy I’d been seeing was also seeing the other guy.”
“So you were outed and hurt all at the same time,” Zeke says.
“Yes.” I run a hand through my hair, feeling the familiar weight of those memories pressing down on me. “That’s why I came to Lydovia. To disappear. To just…be me. Without the world watching.”
Zeke moves closer, his presence oddly comforting. “Benedict, I had no idea. That must have been incredibly difficult.”
I nod, feeling a strange mix of relief and terror at having shared this part of myself. “It was. And now, with this photo… God, Zeke, I can feel it all coming back. The panic, the loss of control. I don’t know if I can face that again.”
As I speak, I feel the old urge to retreat, to return to the cottage, pack my bags, and run.
Zeke leans in, his blue eyes filled with understanding. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I can’t imagine how scary this must be for you.”
I laugh, but it comes out more like a sob. “Terrifying. But also…kind of liberating? I’ve never told anyone about what happened. You know, what wasn’t reported by the media. It feels… I don’t know. Real.”
