Lying was bad.
Aiden had always genuinely thought so. But he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty about telling his mom that seeing Zain for one last time would give him the closure he needed to move on. For all he knew, maybe it really would.
Deep down, he knew it was a lie. He knew seeing Zain wouldn’t help him get over him.
But his conscience remained quiet, crushed by the far more persistent feeling in his chest: the bottomless hunger, the yearning he was afraid to give a name to.
Rationally, Aiden knew this meeting wouldn’t satisfy the hunger. They would be meeting in public, under the watchful eyes of Aiden’s bodyguards. Hell, Aiden wouldn’t be surprised if the bodyguards filmed them for his parents.
It still changed nothing. He was as excited as a kid before Christmas. Even his parents’ pursed lips and strained smiles couldn’t ruin his excitement as he left the house to meet Zain.
His bodyguards followed him at a distance as Aiden quickly made his way to the park nearby. He and Zain had agreed to meet at the entrance of the park at five o’clock. Aiden was twenty minutes early, so he wasn’t surprised not to find Zain when he arrived. He was still disappointed. And more than a little anxious.
Maybe Zain wouldn’t show up.
He tried to push the thought away as he waited, but it refused to leave. Zain hadn’t exactly sounded all that eager to meet him. He hadn’t called Aiden once since their phone conversation the other day. Well, to be fair, Aiden hadn’t called him, either, but that was because he didn’t want to look pathetic and clingy—look more pathetic than he already did.
There was a black car pulling up.
A tall man emerged out of it. He was wearing a dark suit, and for a moment, Aiden’s heart sank before he looked closely at the man’s face.
It was Zain.
Their eyes met and the world seemed to come to a screeching halt.
Aiden could no longer hear the children’s laughter and shouts. He could barely hear anything besides his heartbeat in his ears.
After a moment, Zain moved toward him. It seemed as though he moved with an excruciating slowness that made the scene feel as if it were playing out underwater or in a dream.
Aiden didn’t move. He didn’t trust himself not to run to him if he did. His eyes roamed hungrily over Zain’s chiseled features, over his tall body hugged by the splendid dark suit, before going back to those chocolate brown eyes that seemed to be trying to burn a hole in Aiden’s face.
Zain stopped two feet away from him.
Neither of them spoke for a long, charged moment. Aiden was distantly aware that he was trembling violently, his whole body straining toward the older man, needing to be closer.
The Adam’s apple on Zain’s stubbled throat moved. He opened his mouth, but seemed to change his mind as his eyes flicked to something behind Aiden.
Zain’s lips thinned. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants and said stiffly, “Do you really think you need bodyguards to protect you against me?”
“My parents—they insisted.” Christ, Aiden had never felt so tongue-tied. He didn’t know what to say, acutely aware of his bodyguards listening to their every word. “Let’s—let’s walk?”
Zain gave a clipped nod.
They walked at an unhurried pace, both of them looking straight ahead, their shoulders six inches apart.
It was fucking torture, to have him so close but not be able to touch.
“How long—how long are you going to be in the US?” Aiden said as they walked deeper into the park.
Zain’s hand seemed to twitch toward him. He put it back into his pocket. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Oh.
His limbs suddenly weak and heavy, Aiden sat down on the nearest bench.
After a moment, Zain took a seat beside him, their knees a few inches apart.
Aiden stared at his own hands, inhaling shakily.
Silence stretched.
In his peripheral vision, his bodyguards shifted slightly.
Lifting his head, Aiden glared at them. “Can you give us a little privacy? You don’t need to listen to us to bodyguard me.”
The men exchanged a look and retreated about ten steps away. It wasn’t much, but at least now they couldn’t hear everything Aiden said.
Not that Aiden had any clue what to say. There was so much he wanted to say but couldn’t. So much he wanted to say but shouldn’t.
“I shouldn’t have come here.”
His shoulders tensing up, Aiden said, “Why not?”
He expected Zain to say that he wasn’t gay. He expected Zain to deny having any attachment to him. He expected the usual “no icky emotions” bullshit Zain tended to pull when the strength of his feelings made him uncomfortable.
But he’d never imagined what Zain said next.
“I’m married.”
Aiden felt like he’d been punched in the solar plexus.
“What?” he croaked out, whipping his head to Zain.
Zain didn’t turn his head, his profile stony. “I had no choice after Gadiel ran away with his bodyguard. Al Sharabi would have had him killed for such a public humiliation.”
Aiden tried to process it, but he couldn’t seem to think beyond the fact that Zain was… He was… “You—you married your brother’s bride?”
“Yes,” Zain said tonelessly. “It was the logical thing to do. I’m a bigger prize than Gadiel. Al Sharabi is happy. My father is happy—he got what he originally wanted. My irresponsible fuck-up of a brother is no doubt happy too. Everyone wins.”
It felt like there was something hard and painful lodged in his throat.
“What about u—you?” Aiden managed. “It’s not like you to be selfless.”
Zain finally turned his head to meet his gaze. “It wasn’t an entirely selfless decision,” he said, something tight about his expression. “It was self-preservation too.”
Aiden looked at him searchingly, not understanding—until he did.
“Oh,” he said in a small voice, his vision going blurry. Zain had agreed to the marriage to escape him. It didn’t matter why he’d done it: whether Zain was running from his “unnatural,” inconvenient feelings or whether he didn’t trust himself to stay away from Aiden despite Damiano’s threats. It didn’t matter why; the end result was the same.
Zain didn’t want him enough.
He didn’t want him.
Zain’s expression became pinched. “Stop that,” he said roughly, clasping his hands together. “Don’t. Don’t cry, damn you.”
“I’m not crying,” Aiden said, wiping his eyes. “That would be stupid. What I feel for you isn’t real.”
Zain’s jaw locked. “Exactly. You’re young and confused. You’ll forget me within a few months.”
“Yeah,” Aiden said, forcing a shaky smile. “I will. Consider yourself forgotten. Bye.” Why was his vision only getting blurrier, damn it? His face felt wet. “Go away!” Aiden croaked out, pulling his knees to his chest and turning his face away. “Go. Please, Zain.” God, why did this hurt so much if his feelings weren’t real? If it was just stupid Stockholm syndrome?
“Aiden—” Zain said tightly. “Habibi—”
And then there were arms around him, tugging him against a firm, familiar chest, and Zain was kissing all over his face, whispering something in Arabic, and Aiden was clinging to him with all his strength, his senses going into overdrive. God, he missed him, he missed him so fucking much—
“Let go of my son!” They were yanked apart forcefully, and it took Aiden a moment to process what was going on through his tear-filled eyes.
There was his father, glaring at Zain, his face red with rage. There was his mother, holding Aiden tightly as if she was afraid that he’d be stolen away. There were the two burly bodyguards holding Zain back. There was Zain, his face stony and his eyes hard as he held Aiden’s father’s gaze.
“I don’t care what my son says,” his father spat out. “We all know what you did to him. We all know you brainwashed him and held him against his will. We don’t even need him to testify against you to press charges!” His eyes hardened. “We don’t even need to win in court, Mr. Rahim. Even the accusation of sodomy will be enough to destroy you—”
“Dad!” Aiden snapped, shaking his head frantically. “Don’t do that—you’re better than that!”
His father didn’t even glance at him, glowering at Zain. “Normally, I would never use such barbaric, discriminatory laws to threaten anyone with exposure. But to protect my son from a predator, I will. Don’t think I won’t. Stay away from him.”
His face expressionless, Zain wrenched himself free and walked to Aiden’s father. He said something, very quietly.
Aiden’s father’s lips thinned, something like discomfort flickering in his eyes. But his voice was still firm when he said, “Leave right now and never come back. My son doesn’t need you in his life. Aiden, tell him.”
When Zain turned to Aiden and looked at him searchingly, a lump formed in Aiden’s throat.
God, I love you.
It was the worst possible moment to realize that, but he could no longer remain in denial when above all, he wanted Zain to be all right. He cared more about Zain being safe than he cared about his own happiness.
It was said that when you really loved someone, you wanted that person to be safe, healthy, and happy, even if it was without you. Aiden had always scoffed at that, not believing that anyone would be that selfless.
But now he understood.
Any relationship between them would be extremely dangerous now that Zain was married to the daughter of the President of the UAE. Al Sharabi would have him killed or thrown in jail if Zain left his daughter to be a sodomite with Aiden. Anything between them was impossible now, even without Aiden’s father’s threats.
“Go,” Aiden whispered.
A muscle jumped in Zain’s jaw. He didn’t move.
“Go,” Aiden croaked out louder. “This isn’t real. It’ll pass. I don’t need you. Stop ruining my life.” He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince, but it seemed he sounded far more convincing than he felt.
Zain’s expression closed off.
He gave Aiden a long look before giving a clipped nod and turning away.
A horrible, gurgling noise tore from Aiden’s throat as he watched Zain go. His throat hurt, his heart hurt, his very soul hurt. He felt like an old man who had taken a beating. He wanted to run after Zain and beg him to stay, and damn the entire world.
His mother’s arms tightened around him. “Shh, darling,” she said, kissing his head. “You did the right thing, sweetie. You have closure now. You can forget him and move on.”
As Zain disappeared out of his sight, Aiden clung to his mom and wept.
