The loud music and the crowd's noises are wuthering from a distance as I sit at the edge of the bench, staring at Nate's puzzled face and blank, green eyes.

"No," I say, taking my head between my hands. "He isn't. He can't be." Roman can't be engaged to someone else. We spent the entire week together!

Nate's frown softens as the look in his eyes changes from confusion to... Pity? God, he's pitying me!

"I'm sorry. He didn't tell you." His face becomes a deep shade of crimson as he bites his lip. "This is not your fault. It's on him. It's only human to feel attraction. You couldn't have known..." he says, and keeps talking. His words echo in my chest like the base of a melody. I'm not sure if it's Nate's rhythm or mine at this point.

It's not your fault. It's Roman's. You are only human. It's in our code to long for our other half, if they exist in this lifetime, and fall for them the minute we recognize our soul in their eyes.

"I'm sorry," I say as my phone lights up with multiple texts from Roman.

'I'm at the airport.'
'Are you home yet?'
'Is everything okay?'

I shove my phone into my bag and reach across Daniel's back to pat Olga's arm. She stops talking and jumps up when she sees my face.

"I'm going home," I say, and when Olga attempts to follow, I squeeze her hand. "Please, stay. We'll talk tomorrow."

Olga reaches for her bag anyway, but when I shake my head, she sinks back to her seat. "I'll come see you in the morning," she says.

Squeezing her hand once again, I turn to Nate, who is already up and standing by my side. "I'll be fine," I assure him.

"Let me walk you to the door," he says and takes my hand.

I clench onto his arm as he cuts the crowd. The bubbles in my chest are about to burst again and rain down my eyes. We bust out of the bar as soon as Nate opens the doors.

"Do you need a cab?" he asks.

I shake my head and breathe in the fresh air. "I'll be okay. Thank you. And I'm sorry for treating you like crap. You deserve better."

Nate rubs my arms. "You deserve better than my egoistical, stupid—stupid brother."

"Okay," I whisper. Honestly, I don't know what else to say. "Bye, Nate."

I cross the street, and then I start crossing the avenues.

I don't know when I started crying, how I remembered the name I heard earlier or why I typed it into my browser. Roman Rhode and Tiffany... All I know is, I'm standing under the flashing lights of a billboard on the corner of Prince Street and Broadway, staring at the photo of a smiling couple on my phone's screen.

Her name is Tiffany Carter. She is blonde, a few inches taller than Roman, has a square face and striking gray eyes. She is a socialite and one of the board members of Optimus Maximus. Her father is a major distributor and a partner of the magazine. The internet says nothing about an engagement.

I dig deep, clicking on every article I can find about them. There aren't many. Perhaps this is why I missed it.

I can't believe I fucking missed it.

Most of their pictures are with other board members, except for one. In that photo, Roman looks like he is running for the next presidential election with Tiffany by his side. His calculated smile doesn't reach his eyes. I can't say the same thing about Tiffany, though. Her pale eyes have a warm glow as she stands tall and proud.

The news clip calls them 'the up-and-coming power couple of the USA.'

I drag my aching feet down Broadway and silence my phone when Roman calls me for the third time.

Does he know that I know? Did he talk to Nate? Is his relationship the reason why he's been hiding me from his brother and his colleagues?

Why do I even care at this point?

Our perfect day seems like a distant dream as lights from the many shops hit my face. I might as well be a zombie from that stupid movie I'd edited with my smudged makeup, crippling walk, and numb mind.

Why did Roman lead me on? Is he even going to Tokyo, or is Tokyo a code name for Tiffany?

I have to talk to him and end it before my feelings get out of control.

Drawing a deep breath, I take out my phone and click Roman's number.

I can do this...

Roman answers immediately. An announcement echoes in the background. Perhaps, he is at the airport after all.

"Where are you?" He sounds alert.

"I... I'm walking home."

"Where have you been?"

"It doesn't matter. Roman..."

"I'm worried sick about you."

"Roman, are you engaged?"

He sighs.

"Just say yes or no."

He keeps silent.

I look at my phone. Is there something wrong with the connection, or is it just us? "Roman?"

Silence.

"We've just met. I'll get over you. Just tell me the truth," I say.

"I'm on my way."

"No..." I whisper and stare at my screen, but he already hung up.

***

My neighborhood is dark and the main road is empty. A light across the street flickers every now and then. Smoke rises from a drain hole somewhere in the distance and hangs in the air.

I've been sitting at the steps of my worn-out building for a while now. My damp dress is completely dry and my hair is stuck on my bare shoulders—thanks to humidity.

Fucking humidity.

A black Audi cuts through the smoke on the road and pulls over in front of me. Its bumper lights shimmer and make me squint. I slowly stand, patting the dust at the back of my dress while Roman steps out of the car and shuts the door.

His black sweatpants and white t-shirt are crinkled from spending hours in the traffic. His hair sticks up as if he's been pulling it. I cross my arms and wait for him to make his way to me.

I've been rehearsing this conversation since we hung up. I'll keep it short. Tell him we are over. Actually, I'm glad to find out the truth about his relationship sooner than later.

I'll tell him.

I'll tell him all.

Roman's biting his thin lips as he stands in front of me. He doesn't seem guilty nor sorry.

How dare he not feel sorry?

Just like that, my speech is forgotten. Poof! And my cool turns into a scorching rage.

"I can't do this," I explode, staring at the sky.

Yeah, I'm blaming you, universe! All I wished was a genuine connection, and you sent me...this? Did my message crush and burn between the lines, vibrations or whatever?

Roman takes my hand and pulls me down a step to stand closer to him. "What can't you do, Abby?"

His caramels are staring into my soul, choking my very existence but don't reveal anything in return. "Are you with someone—Tiffany Carter?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"I thought you knew... You told me you'd googled me."

Everything clicks as if Roman's words have suddenly switched on the lights in my foggy brain. That's why he asked me multiple times if I'd googled him. And I did tell him that I read some articles about him the day we met at the cavern. Shit, I even made a stupid joke about him being the sexiest man alive. And I slept with him.

"I'd never go out on a date with you if I knew you were seeing someone," I cry. "Never!"

"I... I know..."

"You don't know shit, Roman!" I spit, flinging my arms open. "I dug deep to find out about your relationship. It's not the first thing that pops up in the articles, you know."

"It's meant to be that way—"

"You can't just tell me that you assumed I knew!" I speak over him. Fuck... Why does my heart hurt this much?

Roman nods and faces away. "I fell for you the moment you took the elevator with me at the magazine—"

"Stop," I snap, tears burning my eyes. "Just stop."

I take a deep breath and head up the stairs, but Roman catches my hand and pulls me back down.

"It's nothing," he says assuringly, but I keep my gaze down. He grabs my chin and forces me to look into his eyes. "Tiffany was a business step I had to take."

I scoff, but he doesn't let go of my chin.

"Don't turn your back at me, Abigail," he warns, and I look into his eyes. Roman gently cups my cheek, running his thumb along my jaw. "I never cared about love. When Tiffany came along—"

The sound of her name makes me wince. I try to look away, but Roman lowers his head to hold my gaze once again.

He sighs before he continues. "Her family has been our business partners since Dad died. She asked me out about a year ago. I was single. It was the right time to date someone like her. I'm thirty-three years old, Abby. I'm at a place in life where society, the board and my title demands me to start a family. Her parents secured the finances for the global launch. Dating her was the right move. The logical move. She is my friend—business partner. It's never been about love."

"Such a happy picture." I slap his hand away from my face.

I wish I could say that Roman disgusts me, but he doesn't. Fuck... His touch still feels like electric. And Roman knows it, because he grabs my hand then lifts it up to his lips. And I watch him kiss it.

God, I want to hate him so badly.

A tear rolls down my cheek. Roman wipes it clean before he continues, "It's a partnership, not a relationship. We don't do dates. I think she hates sex. I don't even kiss her..."

I try to stare away, but Roman takes my face into his hands. His touch is warm and melting into my skin, dripping into my wounded heart, soothing it, caressing my pain away.

"You should go," I whisper.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Your flight..."

"I cancelled it."

Our noses are inches away. Our bodies are only a step apart, but it feels like we are standing on different shores across the ocean.

I can't move. All I can do is breathe. And the more I breathe, the more I'm intoxicated by his distant presence.

"I wish I met you sooner, Abigail. But nothing's written in stone."

"You're..." I gulp, begging him with my eyes. I have to grab his t-shirt to find my balance. "Are you going to break up with her?"

Roman is gazing at my lips, panting. His fingers dig deeper into my cheeks as he takes a step to close the gap between our bodies.

And then he hums...

And Lord... There's something magical about the way he hums.

The vibrations of his voice trigger some invisible threads in the air. And they are tangling fast, pulling us together.

Roman moans and covers my lips with his. I breathe into his kiss and wrap my arms around his neck. His hands are all over me. Squeezing my waist, grabbing my hips. I don't have control over my body as it twists and bends with his touch, desperate for him to discover every part of me inch by inch.

"Come here," he grunts. Then keeping me wrapped in his arms, he leads me into the shadows.

My back hits the building's cool, red bricks. Roman presses his chest against mine. Our souls are knocking the hell out of our ribs, ready to merge and become one. My heart throbs in my ears as I tug at his shirt and desperately move my lips to his rhythm.

My mind is completely numb. My soul is all it matters, and it's aching... For Roman.

Roman kicks my legs open and makes me whimper.

"Tell me you want this," he says gutturally.

I can only moan.

Something buzzes in his sweatpants. He pulls away, slips a hand into his pocket, and silences his phone. Then sucking in a deep breath, he rests his forehead in the crook of my neck and thrusts his hips forward. The bulge in font of him is torturing me, teasing a sweet spot between my legs.

"You're shivering," he whispers against my skin. "Are you close, baby? I didn't even touch you."

"I—" I'm moments away from bursting.

Roman's phone starts buzzing again.

Who's the caller?

Is it the other woman?

But then, I'm the other woman...

What am I doing?

I grab his shoulders and push Roman away.

He raises his head to look into my eyes. "What do you want, Abby?" he asks, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "Wanna go back home all alone?"

I gulp, unable to turn away. I don't want to be alone and he knows it—he knows me better than I know myself.

"Then tell me. Tell me what you want, Abby."

I want to rewind time, go back to his apartment and stop him from leaving. We could be making love right now. We could be screaming our names as we moved together.

Am I too weak? Too awful?

"Roman..." I beg, and I'm not sure what I'm begging for anymore.

Another short buzz interrupts us. Keeping his darkened caramels locked with mine, Roman fishes his phone out of his pants. After taking a quick glance at his screen, he starts backing away.

I lean against the wall to find my balance.

Roman's panting. His face is now redder than ever. He turns around, stuffing his phone into his pocket.

What the hell did he just read? Is his business going down in flames?

I fix my skirt and step into the light. "Rome? Come upstairs," I say, reaching for his hand. I don't care about morals. I don't care about his relationship. And hell, I don't give a damn about his magazine. "The world can wait 'till the morning."

Roman wipes his lips again, then turns around to face me. "Were you with Nate tonight?" he asks. "After our date?"

I give him a blank stare. "I ran into him..."

He presses a finger against his temple. A vein starts ticking on his forehead. "Fuck, Abigail. What were you thinking? If I can't get one brother, I'll take the other?"

What the actual hell? "Are you kidding?"

"Are you kidding? I told you everything! I opened my heart to you. Why do you need to go behind my back? What's your aim here?"

"What are you talking about—"

"When you first met Nate, he kept telling me that you were the best sex he's ever had. He just texted me a bunch of bullshit. Accusing me. Telling me to leave you alone. Am I not enough? Do you need to fuck him too?"

That does it.

My sight turns red. And I lose the last bit of my sanity. Before I know it, my bag is flying in the air. Roman groans in pain when it hits him across the chest.

"Do you know what your problem is?" I hear my voice cry.

"Why don't you tell me, Abby?" he cries back.

"You are a sad, angry egomaniac who hates himself."

Fuck... Why did I say that?

Roman smirks, coughing a scoff. "I'm not going to be lectured by a lonely, vulgar bitch who is full of self pity."

Did he call me a bitch? Vulgar...? Pitiful?!

I clench my fists. "You want a picture-perfect life, but life ain't perfect, Roman!"

"What do you know about perfection?" he spits, walking toward his car. "You go to the opera with a sad sac of condoms and spill them all over the place. Grow the fuck up, Abigail! Life ain't a fairy tale!"

"At least I'm not a cheater!" I scream.

"I'm not either!" He flings open his car door. "I never—fuck! I'd never cheat on you!"

"Go, explain it to your fiancé!"

He points a finger at me. "This isn't over." Then he gets in and slams the door shut.

"Oh, baby! It's SO over!" I scream after him as I collect my bag from the edge of the sidewalk.

His tires screech and his car stops inches away from me. I gasp.

Roman lowers the passenger window. "Scream my name just like that when you're cumming tonight," he says.

Then with a roaring engine, he takes off and disappears into the night.