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That was a silver lining, at least. But now that we were on the topic of family… “Will you tell your family the truth after our arrangement is over?”

His smile morphed into a grimace. This topic was territory we rarely broached, but I knew how much his secret weighed on him. No matter what happened with our marriage, I wanted him to be happy. I didn’t think that was possible unless he told his family why he’d chosen a marriage of convenience over one of love.

“I don’t know. I want to, but I have a feeling they won’t take it well, and I’m not ready to deal with that,” he admitted. Another lukewarm smile. “Ask me again in five years.”

“I’ll put it in my calendar,” I said.

Jordan laughed, but I didn’t press him any further.

It was his life; he should do things on his own timeline. Besides, I understood why he was so hesitant. He was his family’s only heir. How could he tell them that he had zero interest in romantic relationships with anyone? He’d had sex, and he’d experimented with different relationships, but he didn’t need or want a life partner. He definitely didn’t want kids.

That was why he’d come to me for our arrangement. I already knew his secret, which he’d confessed to me one night over drinks in Milan. That’d been years ago, right after the end of my Jacob Ford campaign, and I’d proven to be one of the few people in his orbit who’d never tried to use, manipulate, or seduce him in some way.

There was also no way I’d fall for him or expect a traditional marriage with him, which made me the perfect partner for his purposes.

It was a mutually beneficial arrangement, but part of me wished it wasn’t necessary. I couldn’t help but feel a little sad that Jordan couldn’t share such an important part of his life—and himself—with his family.

“You never told me why you needed the money from our arrangement,” he said. “Care to clue me in?”

“Does anyone really need a reason for wanting money?” I deflected. Although I trusted Jordan, he was far too involved with the industry for me to risk sharing my plans. There wasn’t anything he could do about my contract anyway, and I didn’t want to drag him into my mess when his grandmother was sick and he had his own company to run.

“No. But when someone like you is willing to give up half a decade of your life for it, there’s usually a strong motivator involved.” He shrugged. “You’re beautiful, smart, and successful. You could find a better, richer love match than me any day of the week.”

Love match. Right.

I tilted my head back and stared at the sky. It was impossible to see the stars over Manhattan, but I liked to imagine a sea of them out there, twinkling down at us like benevolent angels. Watching the drama and travails of mankind as we stumbled through life searching for purpose, meaning, and the tiniest shred of happiness.

“Maybe,” I said. “But it doesn’t really matter now.”

Were there richer men than Jordan? Yes. Were they better men or a potential soulmate? Who the hell knew.

I glanced at the laser tag entrance. Vuk was still inside.

My mind flashed, unbidden, through our interactions over the past month.

The seamless way his presence fit in my kitchen. The small tug at my stomach every time I saw him. The touch of his lips on my skin and his hand on my throat.

It wasn’t so much who he was but how he made mefeel—like I wasn’t alone, like I was alive, and the world was rife with possibilities instead of obstacles.

If he’d been the one who proposed a marriage of convenience, would I still feel this sick leading up to the wedding?

“I’m going to head home,” Jordan said. “I can call you a cab.”

I shook my head. “I’ll walk. My place isn’t that far.”

We exchanged goodbyes. Then he left, and I was by myself again. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to leave yet.

Now that everyone was gone, I felt…empty. They’d filled me up with their energy, and without their excitement, I was just sad and exhausted. Not exactly the way a bride-to-be should feel after her bachelorette.

I’d had fun, but it hadn’t escaped my notice that I barely knew half the people present tonight.

I’d lost touch with my friends from high school and college. Time and distance had eroded those relationships, and I had nothing to take their place. Maybe if I did, I’d feel less adrift.

I had exciting news and no one to share it with; I had shitty days and no one to commiserate with. Not on a deep level, anyway. It was like a thick glass wall existed between me and everyone else. I could see them, but I couldn’t reach them. If I had a true emergency, I wouldn’t know who to call outside my family.

All because I’d exchanged my version of what I wanted for…this. The glamour, the fame, the money (which wasn’t really that much after taxes, agency fees, and other expenses). Most people would kill for my life, but I often wondered what it would’ve been like if I’d finished school and became a doctor or chemist instead.

It might’ve been better, it might’ve been worse, but at least I would’ve felt free.