“Yesterday, at the office. He told me it was over, that I’m not good enough to be with him. What hope is left if he doesn’t want me? How will he ever accept any truth if I confront him now? And even if he does accept it then what future do we have after this rejection? I should have told him about me the first time I met him, but you didn’t let me. Now look where I am!”

Jonathan touches my shoulder, whirling me to face him. “I think I need to know what is going on.” His voice is stone cold serious.

I turn to Gabe. “Either you explain the truth to Jonathan or I will. He deserves to hear it because he’s equally caught up in this web of lies.”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Gabe huffs out, annoyed. He heaves out a breath before saying, “Aaliya is Damien’s wife.”

Jonathan’s mouth drops open as he stares at me.

Gabe continues, “Damien came to me one day five years ago devastated by something his brother had told him. I don’t know what that was except that Damien wanted to disappear. He changed his identity and moved to India. We started a new design firm in Mumbai where he met Aaliya, fell in love with her and married her. And they have a one-year old son.”

“What the fuck?” Jonathan yells. He turns to me. “Is that true, what he said?”

“Yes!”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Jonathan repeats with a stunned expression. He shakes his head and his gaze narrows on me. “Damien doesn’t remember you. does he?”

I drop my head, shaking it. “He doesn’t.”

He pivots and points a finger at Gabe. “And you told her to not tell him? That’s fucked up and doesn’t make sense. He deserves to know.”

Gabe purses his lips. “She knows the reasons and they’re valid. She’s just too upset with whatever has gone down between her and Damien yesterday in the office to make sense of anything else.”

Jonathan looks beyond Gabe for a moment. “Look Gabe, you and I are going to catch up tomorrow and you’re going to tell me everything. And I mean everything!”

“Okay!” Gabe agrees.

Jonathan once again stares at something beyond Gabe before he puts his arm around my waist, drawing me closer to him. Puzzled by his action, I take a step back, but his hold on my waist tightens. I open my mouth to chastise him but he speaks before I can.

“Aaliya,” Jonathan says, “your husband is here and he looks mad, probably because you’re with me. He’s going to reach us in thirty seconds so you have a choice to make, babe. One, let him walk over you because he’s going to make you leave from here or two, make him jealous like hell and then choose whether you want to leave with him.”