ROMAN'S POV
Two months.
Two months until Khalid marries Amira.
Two months until the man I love stands in front of his family and promises himself to someone else.
And I'm still meeting him at 2 AM like none of it is real.
---
We got caught again last week.
Different building. Same time. Same pattern.
The tabloids had the photo within hours.
Randall didn't even comment. Just texted: *Be more careful next time*
Not "stop seeing him." Not "this has to end."
Just—be more careful.
That's what my life is now. Sneaking around with a man who's about to marry someone else. With the blessing of my fake fiancé.
This is insane.
---
Khalid asked me last night what happens after.
"After what?"
"After I marry Amira. After—" He stopped. "After everything."
"I don't know."
"Roman—"
"I don't know, okay? I don't know if we keep doing this. I don't know if you disappear into your marriage. I don't know anything."
"I'm not disappearing."
"You're marrying someone else. That's disappearing."
"Not from you. Never from you."
But he will. Eventually. Because that's how marriage works. You prioritize your spouse. You build a life with them. You—
You stop meeting your girlfriend at 2 AM.
---
I've been having this nightmare.
Same one every night for two weeks.
I'm at the wedding. Watching from the back. Khalid in traditional Saudi dress. Amira in white.
They say their vows. He doesn't look at me. Doesn't acknowledge I'm there.
And I wake up gasping. Reaching for him in the dark.
He's never there. Because we don't sleep together anymore. Not overnight. Just—these stolen hours. These 2 AM meetings.
That's all we have.
---
Avery asked if I'm okay.
"You're getting thinner."
"I'm fine."
"You're not. You look—" She paused. "Haunted."
"I'm fine."
"Roman—"
"He's getting married in two months. I'm watching the man I love marry someone else and pretending I'm okay with it. How do you think I am?"
She didn't have an answer.
---
Here's what I'm realizing:
This was my idea. I forced this. I got engaged to Randall to push Khalid toward the arranged marriage.
And it worked.
He's marrying Amira in two months.
So why do I feel like I'm dying?
---
Randall brought it up three days ago.
"After he gets married, what happens to us?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do we stay engaged? Get married? End things?" He's so calm about it. So practical. "I need to know what the plan is."
"There is no plan."
"There has to be some kind of plan."
"Why?"
"Because I can't do this indefinitely. The fake engagement. The covering for you. The—" He gestured vaguely. "All of it."
"So what do you want?"
"I want you to pick. Him or me. After the wedding. When the dust settles. Pick."
I don't know how to tell him I already picked. Years ago. At a gala when a man looked at me like I was fascinating and I fell.
---
Last night Khalid said something that's been haunting me.
"Karim suggested something."
"What?"
"A four-person arrangement. Me and Amira for duty. You and Randall for appearance. But really—us. Always us."
"That's—"
"Complicated. I know."
"Insane."
"That too." He pulled me closer. "But possible. People do it."
"People don't do it."
"They do. More than you think."
I was quiet for a long moment. "You want me to stay engaged to Randall while you're married to Amira while we—what? Keep meeting at 2 AM forever?"
"Not forever. Just—until we figure something else out."
"That's not a plan. That's a nightmare."
"It's all we have."
---
I keep thinking about Amira.
What she looks like. What she sounds like. If she knows about me.
Khalid says she doesn't. Says the marriage is business. Says they barely talk.
But she's going to be his wife.
She's going to wake up next to him. Have breakfast with him. Know him in ways I don't.
And I'm going to be—what? The girlfriend he sees in secret?
The mistress?
---
I looked up photos of her.
Princess Amira Abdul Nazir. 28. Beautiful. Educated. Everything a Saudi princess should be.
She's perfect.
And I hate her without ever meeting her.
Not because she's marrying Khalid. Because she gets to do it publicly. Gets to have him without hiding.
Gets to be chosen.
Even though it's an arrangement. Even though it's duty.
She's still the one he's marrying.
---
My neck itched yesterday.
First time in months.
I was thinking about the wedding. About standing there watching. About him saying vows to someone else.
And my neck itched.
I didn't scratch. Just sat there with my hands clenched until the urge passed.
But it was there. The old instinct. The old escape.
Waiting.
---
Khalid asked if I'd come to the wedding.
"What?"
"The wedding. Would you come?"
"Are you insane?"
"Probably. But—" He stopped. "I need you there. Even if you're in the back. Even if no one knows. I need to know you're there."
"That's torture."
"I know."
"For both of us."
"I know." He looked at me. "But I'm asking anyway."
I haven't answered yet.
Because I don't know if I can watch him marry someone else.
Don't know if I'm strong enough.
---
Here's what scares me most:
What if the four-person arrangement works?
What if Khalid marries Amira and I stay engaged to Randall and we keep doing this for years?
What if we get so good at hiding that it becomes permanent?
What if I spend the rest of my life being someone's secret?
I don't know if I can do that.
But I don't know if I can leave him either.
---
Leny called yesterday.
"You have a project offer. Big one. Period piece. Six months shooting in London."
"When?"
"Starting in three months."
Three months. Right after the wedding.
"I'll think about it."
"Roman, it's a career-defining role."
"I said I'll think about it."
I hung up.
Because leaving right after Khalid gets married feels like running away.
But staying feels like drowning.
---
I asked Khalid what Amira knows.
"About what?"
"About us. About the fact that you're in love with someone else."
"Nothing. She knows nothing."
"Are you going to tell her?"
"No."
"So you're just going to lie to her? Forever?"
"It's an arranged marriage. She doesn't expect love."
"But does she expect fidelity?"
He was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know."
---
Two months.
In two months he'll be married.
In two months the four-person arrangement might become real.
In two months I might be watching from the back of a mosque in Dubai while the man I love marries someone else.
And I don't know if I'll survive it.
---
It's 4 AM.
I'm alone. Haven't seen Khalid in three days. He's in Dubai meeting with Amira's family.
Doing pre-wedding things. Planning. Negotiating.
Becoming someone's husband.
And I'm here. In my apartment. Wearing Randall's ring. Pretending this is fine.
It's not fine.
It's catastrophic.
But in two months it becomes permanent.
In two months this stops being a situation we can escape and becomes our lives.
Him married to Amira.
Me engaged to Randall.
Meeting in secret.
Lying to everyone.
Forever.
---
I keep thinking about what Khalid said.
"People do it. More than you think."
Do they? Do people really live like this?
Married to one person while in love with another?
Duty and desire separated forever?
And if they do—are they happy?
Or are they just surviving?
---
Randall asked last night if I loved him.
"No."
"Do you think you ever could?"
"No."
"Then why are we doing this?"
"Because I needed you to help me push Khalid toward his arranged marriage. And you agreed."
"And now?"
"Now I don't know. Now he's actually getting married and I'm terrified and I don't know what happens next."
He was quiet. "You could leave. Take the London project. Start over."
"I could."
"But you won't."
"No."
"Because you can't leave him."
"No. I can't."
---
Here's what I know:
In two months Khalid marries Amira.
I'll probably be there. Watching from somewhere hidden.
And then—
Then the four-person arrangement begins.
Him and Amira and me and Randall.
All of us lying. All of us pretending.
All of us trapped in this thing we created.
And I don't know if it's sustainable.
Don't know if I can be someone's secret forever.
Don't know if love is supposed to look like this.
But I also know I can't leave him.
Can't walk away.
Can't survive without him.
So I guess I'll find out.
I'll find out if the four-person arrangement works.
If love can survive being hidden.
If I'm strong enough to watch him marry someone else and still show up at 2 AM.
Two months.
That's all I have left before everything changes.