Something Like Fate Summary, Characters and Themes

Something Like Fate by Amy Lea is a contemporary romance that explores the tension between destiny and choice through the lens of a young woman’s emotional awakening.  It centers on Lo Zhao-Jensen, a college student from a lineage of Chinese-American fortune tellers who unexpectedly experiences a mystical vision foretelling her soulmate.

Up until that moment, Lo had always believed herself to be the one Zhao woman without powers.  This sudden spark of magic throws her into a journey across Italy with her best friend Teller Owens, blurring the lines between friendship and romantic love. What follows is a complicated and tender exploration of identity, family legacy, and the often messy path toward knowing what the heart truly wants.

Summary

Lo Zhao-Jensen has always believed herself to be the odd one out in her family—a long line of gifted fortune tellers who can foresee their soulmates.  Unlike her mother and aunts, Lo has never had a vision, let alone one pointing her to true love.

That changes during a failed college hookup when she’s hit with a vivid and unmistakable psychic vision involving a floating heart and a foreign skyline.  The experience triggers both confusion and excitement, igniting hope that she might belong in the mystical tradition of the Zhao women after all.

She shares the event with her best friend Bianca, who sees it as a sign that Lo should finally embrace her family’s legacy instead of running from it.

At the same time, Teller Owens, Lo’s childhood best friend, returns home heartbroken from a breakup with his long-term girlfriend, Sophie.  Teller, once awkward and nerdy, has matured emotionally and physically.

Lo sees him with fresh eyes, though she tries to suppress any romantic thoughts.  Their reunion is warm, playful, and filled with the easy intimacy only long-time friends can share.

After Bianca injures herself and cancels their long-planned backpacking trip to Italy, Lo impulsively invites Teller to go with her.  Despite his discomfort with spontaneity, he agrees.

The trip begins in chaos.  Their flight is diverted due to weather, forcing them to stay in a dingy roadside motel.

But the misadventure strengthens their bond, allowing them to reconnect and talk honestly about the past year.  When they finally make it to Venice, Lo is swept up by a sense of possibility.

That possibility takes physical form in Caleb, a handsome, adventurous traveler who seems to match the vision she had.  Their connection feels magical, effortless, and everything she’s been taught to believe is fate.

Meanwhile, Teller meets and begins spending time with Riley, a friendly and outgoing fellow traveler.  Lo is surprised by the sting of jealousy she feels watching them interact.

As she begins to fall deeper into her belief that Caleb is her destined match, she’s also pulled into the emotional gravity of Teller’s presence—his kindness, his memories, his quiet loyalty.

As the trio moves on to Rome, Lo grapples with a newly revealed family curse: if a Zhao woman rejects her soulmate, she’s doomed to a life of loneliness and heartbreak.  The pressure builds, especially as Caleb continues to pursue her.

After days of tension, Lo finally confesses the truth of her vision to Caleb.  His response is underwhelming.

He dismisses the idea of fate, admits he doesn’t believe in long-term commitment, and disappears without warning.

Hurt and humiliated, Lo finds solace in Teller.  To comfort her, he surprises her with a stay in a villa once visited by her mother, reconnecting her to her roots.

In Tuscany, their bond shifts.  Moments of shared laughter, dancing under lights, and physical closeness blur the boundaries of their friendship.

They sleep together—an intimate, emotional experience—but wake to awkward silence.  Teller, uncertain of what it meant, begins pulling away, and Lo doesn’t know how to read the situation.

Though both agree to treat the night as a vacation fling, the tension lingers.  Their conversations become strained and shallow, despite Lo yearning for clarity.

She’s still haunted by her vision and the fear that she’s deviating from fate.  The return of Caleb—only to ghost her again after a brief reunion—confirms what she’s starting to realize: Caleb was never the one.

He represented the fantasy of love, not the reality.

A chance encounter with Posie, an older woman she met earlier in the trip, gives Lo a new lens.  Posie tells her that love isn’t forged in sweeping adventures but in the quiet, ordinary routines shared over time.

That message, paired with her growing doubts about Caleb, nudges Lo toward acceptance: her relationship with Teller, not her fleeting spark with Caleb, is where her heart has always felt safest.

Further revelations at home solidify this truth.  Lo learns from her aunts that her own mother once defied her soulmate vision and chose Lo’s father instead.

The discovery shatters her belief in an infallible romantic fate.  Her mother’s choice, though imperfect, was made with love and intention.

It frees Lo from the idea that her happiness is bound to a single vision.

Teller, meanwhile, has been dealing with his own emotions.  He’d long loved Lo but stepped aside when she seemed committed to chasing her soulmate.

He even contacted Caleb to encourage him not to give up on Lo, believing her happiness was more important than his feelings.  That selflessness speaks louder than any declaration.

Back in her hometown, Lo finally begins to heal.  She mends her relationship with her father, accepts his new partner, and gains wisdom from her family’s lived experiences.

She also understands that her own powers might never manifest in the traditional way, but that doesn’t mean she lacks insight or agency.  When she reconnects with Teller at the coffee shop where it all began, there’s no grand speech or magical sign—just the deep, undeniable knowing that he is home.

Lo chooses Teller—not because fate told her to, but because of the real, grounded love they’ve built together.  In doing so, she redefines what it means to believe in destiny.

Rather than chasing a vision, she learns to trust the emotional truths that have always lived inside her.  The story closes not with magic, but with mutual understanding and the quiet kind of love that stays.

Characters

Lo Zhao-Jensen

Lo is the heart of Something Like Fate, a young woman caught in the emotional and spiritual web of family expectations, cultural legacy, and personal desire.  She is introduced as someone who feels fundamentally disconnected from her family’s mystical lineage—while the Zhao women are gifted with psychic visions of their soulmates, Lo has lived her life believing she is the anomaly, untouched by fate.

This perceived lack shapes her sense of inadequacy, especially in contrast to the romantic idealism that runs through her bloodline.  Yet, when a vision finally comes to her in the most unexpected of moments, it reignites her belief in magic, purpose, and destiny.

Lo is vivacious, messy, romantic, and a bit chaotic.  Her emotional depth is both her strength and her vulnerability.

She craves meaningful connection and is easily swept up by the allure of “meant to be. ” Her journey to Italy symbolizes a leap into adulthood, autonomy, and a desire to shape her own narrative.

Lo’s feelings are often conflicted—between the intoxicating idea of a prophesied soulmate and the quiet, steady love that blooms from familiarity.  She is a seeker: of love, identity, truth, and belonging.

Over the course of the novel, Lo matures from someone who believes love must be dazzling and fated to someone who sees love as something earned, chosen, and cultivated in the ordinary.

Teller Owens

Teller is Lo’s best friend turned unexpected romantic counterpart, a character defined by his understated loyalty, dry wit, and quiet emotional complexity.  At the outset, Teller has just emerged from a serious breakup, emotionally bruised but emotionally available in a way he hadn’t been before.

His growth is subtle but profound—where Lo is outwardly expressive, Teller is measured, practical, and introspective.  He is allergic to almost everything, averse to change, and obsessed with order, yet none of these quirks make him rigid.

Instead, they make his gestures of spontaneity and affection all the more meaningful.

What makes Teller stand out is the emotional labor he does behind the scenes.  His enduring affection for Lo—expressed through decades of shared jokes, quiet acts of care, and unspoken understanding—grounds their friendship.

He is the one who offers constancy in a story full of chaos.  When Lo is confused, Teller doesn’t manipulate her into choosing him; instead, he steps back, even encouraging her to explore the relationship with Caleb if that’s what might bring her happiness.

His selflessness speaks volumes.  Teller embodies the kind of love that is patient, non-performative, and deeply rooted in history and shared experience.

His emotional reserve masks a well of vulnerability, making his eventual expression of love all the more affecting.

Caleb

Caleb enters the story as the romantic embodiment of Lo’s psychic vision—a handsome, charming, well-traveled man whose first appearance feels like fate.  He is the manifestation of every romantic ideal Lo has inherited from the Zhao women.

From dramatic rescues to flirtatious banter, Caleb delivers the thrill of destiny and possibility.  Yet beneath his charisma lies a man who is emotionally untethered, noncommittal, and addicted to freedom.

His refusal to believe in monogamy or entertain a long-term relationship becomes a brutal reality check for Lo, who had pinned her hopes—and identity—on their connection.

Caleb’s role in the narrative is both literal and metaphorical.  He represents fantasy: a relationship built on projection, aesthetic, and prophecy rather than real compatibility.

His presence pushes Lo to confront what she values in a partner and in herself.  Though he isn’t malicious, Caleb is emblematic of how even seemingly magical connections can falter without emotional investment and shared values.

His exit from Lo’s life is abrupt and painful, but also necessary—he is the catalyst that forces her to reassess what love actually looks like beyond the confines of family legacy.

Bianca

Bianca, Lo’s best friend and originally her intended travel companion, provides a grounded counterpoint to Lo’s dreamy temperament.  She is fiercely loyal, pragmatic, and gently sarcastic, often calling Lo out on her emotional excesses while still offering unwavering support.

Though sidelined from the Italian adventure due to her broken foot, Bianca’s influence is ever-present in Lo’s internal reflections and decisions.  She acts as a mirror to Lo’s impulsivity, providing a voice of reason when Lo begins to spiral into fantasy or self-doubt.

Bianca also symbolizes the anchoring force of female friendship in the midst of romantic chaos.  Her role might not be central to the action, but her importance is quietly monumental—she is the keeper of Lo’s secrets, the challenger of her delusions, and the person who helps her make sense of her own heart.

Bianca’s belief in Lo’s strength, even when Lo doubts herself, reinforces the theme that love and support are not just romantic, but deeply rooted in friendship as well.

Mei and Ellen (Lo’s Aunts)

Mei and Ellen, Lo’s aunts, serve as guardians of the Zhao family’s mystical heritage and emotional historians of its romantic mythology.  They are vibrant, well-meaning, and sometimes overly invested in perpetuating the family’s psychic traditions.

Their enthusiasm over Lo’s vision is not just familial pride—it’s a kind of vindication that the legacy will live on.  Yet their excitement also adds pressure on Lo, making her feel obligated to follow the path of destiny rather than forge her own.

As the story unfolds, the aunts become more than just comic relief or mystical mentors.  They are the custodians of painful family truths, including the revelation that Lo’s mother defied her own soulmate vision to choose Lo’s father.

This knowledge reframes Mei and Ellen’s role in Lo’s life—they are not just enforcers of fate, but women who have themselves been shaped by love, loss, and complicated choices.  They represent generational wisdom, but also the limits of tradition, offering Lo the freedom to reinterpret her own future.

Posie

Posie, a brief but impactful character, is an elderly woman Lo meets during her travels.  She offers a pivotal piece of emotional insight when Lo is grappling with her romantic confusion.

Unlike the Zhao family’s sweeping ideas about fate, Posie believes that true love is made in the mundane—shared mornings, silent companionship, and enduring presence.  Her perspective is maternal, warm, and rooted in lived experience rather than prophecy or passion.

Though her role is small, Posie’s words provide one of the story’s key turning points.  She challenges Lo’s idea that love must be cinematic or soul-deep from the outset.

Instead, she introduces the radical notion that love can be simple, quiet, and built—not bestowed.  Her influence helps Lo begin to disentangle her desire for fated romance from her actual emotional needs, acting as a gentle guide toward a more grounded understanding of love.

Sophie

Sophie, Teller’s ex-girlfriend, exists largely in the background but plays a significant role in shaping the emotional terrain.  Her breakup with Teller sets the story in motion, revealing his capacity for long-term emotional investment and his pain at being rejected by someone who didn’t believe in their compatibility.

Sophie’s exit from Teller’s life indirectly makes space for Lo, but her shadow lingers in the early part of the narrative, especially in how Teller processes intimacy and heartbreak.

She is not villainized—rather, Sophie is portrayed as someone seeking independence, someone who feared stagnation in a relationship that had become too comfortable.  Her choice reflects a theme that runs through the novel: that love, even when it’s good, isn’t always right.

Through Sophie’s departure, Teller gains the emotional clarity and vulnerability that allow him to later be open to something deeper with Lo.  She is a character whose absence is as defining as her presence.

Themes

Free Will Versus Destiny

Lo’s journey is framed by the prophecy-driven tradition of the Zhao women, whose romantic visions are considered both guidance and inevitability.  The moment Lo experiences her first soulmate vision, she’s not only overwhelmed by the image but by the weight of expectations that follow—an entire familial legacy tied to one supposed truth.

She grows up believing herself an exception, someone denied a gift everyone else around her naturally inherited.  When the vision finally comes, it feels like a corrective force of fate, a long-awaited validation that she is, after all, part of the magical tradition.

But as her relationship with Caleb unfolds, she begins to question the assumptions that come with fate.  Caleb may fit the prophetic mold, but he lacks the emotional depth and commitment that she increasingly recognizes as necessary.

Their romance, built on the spark of mystical certainty, reveals itself to be unsustainable in the face of real emotional needs.  Lo’s injury halts the kinetic rhythm of travel and romantic excitement, forcing her into reflection.

She starts understanding that her choices—not her bloodline—must determine the quality and longevity of her relationships.  Learning that her mother chose love over her own fated partner shatters the rigidity of the Zhao narrative and gives Lo permission to choose for herself.

The transformation comes full circle when she decides to pursue a life with Teller, not because a vision dictated it, but because their bond is shaped by emotional truth, shared experiences, and conscious commitment.  Fate becomes less a rule and more a mirror of personal insight.

Friendship Evolving Into Romantic Love

What begins as an unshakable, affectionate friendship between Lo and Teller gradually transforms into something more complex and emotionally charged.  Their shared history—built on years of companionship, trust, and subtle gestures—forms the bedrock of their dynamic.

While the novel opens with Teller returning from a heartbreak and Lo encouraging him to join her on an impulsive trip to Italy, the underlying chemistry between them begins to resurface.  Their time abroad, filled with forced proximity, vulnerable conversations, and nostalgic memories, creates space for them to re-examine what they mean to each other.

Lo’s awareness of Teller’s emotional and physical growth contrasts with her earlier views of him as a non-romantic fixture in her life.  Their sexual intimacy later in Tuscany feels less like a turning point and more like a slow realization of what was already present: deep, foundational affection and desire.

The challenge is not discovering that they are in love but confronting the implications of changing the nature of their relationship.  The awkwardness following their physical intimacy reveals how entrenched they are in the comfort of friendship and how frightening it is to risk that.

Lo’s journey becomes one of emotional honesty, acknowledging that what she thought was friendship was, in fact, layered with love.  When she ultimately chooses Teller, it’s not a sudden switch but an affirmation of the relationship they’ve always had, just seen now through a clearer lens.

Their story illustrates how the deepest romances often grow not from sparks but from steady, enduring flames.

Romantic Idealism and Disillusionment

Lo enters the story as a young woman deeply influenced by a legacy of magical love stories.  The Zhao women’s ability to foresee their soulmates casts love as something predestined, romantic, and exceptional.

This family mythology shapes Lo’s understanding of what love should look like: instantaneous, sweeping, and fate-ordained.  Her first relationship attempt, with a frat boy named Mark B.

, ends in a comic disaster that reinforces her belief that she is waiting for something more significant.  When she meets Caleb—handsome, confident, and eerily similar to the figure in her vision—she interprets his presence as confirmation of fate.

Their early moments together are steeped in cinematic grandeur: sunset walks, flirtatious travel, shared adventures.  But gradually, the cracks appear.

Caleb’s reluctance to commit, his casual view of relationships, and his emotional distance begin to conflict with the intensity of Lo’s hopes.  What initially felt magical turns into a sobering exploration of incompatibility.

The romantic prophecy doesn’t hold up under the weight of lived reality.  Lo’s realization that the vision may have been misinterpreted, or that it doesn’t guarantee happiness, confronts her idealism with necessary skepticism.

She begins to understand that genuine love is less about scripted perfection and more about presence, effort, and emotional alignment.  The disillusionment doesn’t diminish her capacity for love—it refines it.

Her final acceptance of Teller, in all his grounded imperfection, represents a mature embrace of love as something to be nurtured rather than found.

Grief, Memory, and Maternal Legacy

Lo’s mother’s absence casts a quiet shadow over the narrative, shaping Lo’s sense of identity and her relationship to her family’s magical traditions.  Her connection to her mother is reawakened through the experience of the soulmate vision—a moment her aunts confirm mirrors her mother’s own past.

The revelation that her mother once defied the vision and chose a different path adds complexity to Lo’s understanding of both grief and familial legacy.  It paints her mother not as a mythical figure but as a woman who made difficult, human choices.

Lo’s journey through Italy is punctuated by moments of emotional connection to her mother, especially when Teller arranges a stay at the same villa her mother once visited.  This gesture doesn’t just offer romance; it bridges generations.

Lo begins to see her mother not only as a memory but as someone whose courage she can emulate.  The process of unpacking family secrets becomes a way to grieve more truthfully.

Her mother’s choice to love outside the bounds of destiny suggests a strength and independence that Lo previously overlooked.  As Lo returns home, her conversations with her father and her aunts further ground her in this redefined legacy.

She’s no longer trying to live up to a magical standard, but honoring her mother’s legacy by choosing authenticity over fantasy.  In embracing her own choices and imperfections, Lo continues her mother’s legacy in the truest way—by living a life not dictated by fear or tradition, but by emotional truth.

Self-Discovery Through Travel

The backdrop of Italy serves as more than a romantic setting—it becomes a catalyst for Lo’s emotional growth.  What begins as an impulsive journey to find love becomes a series of personal awakenings.

Each misadventure—the turbulent flight, lost luggage, chaotic hostel stays—challenges her desire for control and narrative clarity.  As Lo navigates unfamiliar cities, languages, and dynamics, she’s pushed to confront the gap between her expectations and her realities.

Her encounter with Caleb may have fulfilled the prophecy on paper, but the dissonance between what she feels and what she expected to feel unsettles her.  In contrast, her time with Teller is marked by moments of quiet recognition, shared vulnerability, and unspoken care.

The juxtaposition between the romance she thought she wanted and the comfort she already had sharpens her emotional self-awareness.  Injury forces her to stop chasing moments and begin observing them.

She starts asking better questions—about her academic path, her self-worth, and the nature of the love she deserves.  Italy becomes a landscape of transition, where movement slows just enough to allow insight.

The trip strips her of the idea that her identity must follow family tradition or romantic archetypes.  She returns home not with answers written in magic but with a firmer grasp of her own voice, values, and desires.

The physical journey abroad ultimately mirrors the internal journey toward understanding who she is when all illusions fall away.  The transformation isn’t loud or showy—it’s subtle, but permanent.