Urgent knocks sounded on her door. Before she could even turn to look, Asim’s voice rang out. “Elena. Open the door.”

“Jeez, okay. Give me a second.” She crossed the room, tugged the door open, already annoyed. His face creased, Asim hesitated before speaking.

“I have a surprise for you.”

She blinked a few times, sideswiped by this unexpected arrival. I probably have a bigger surprise for you. “Am I late for dinner?”

“No. Just follow me.” He jerked his head toward the hallway, and she followed, shutting the door quietly behind her. His energy was so strange and hurried. She hadn’t expected this after their terse conversation in the garden hours earlier.

He led her out of the house and toward the gardens where they’d been strolling earlier that day. He grabbed her hand, hurrying her along. She jogged behind him, distracted by the rich crimson of the setting sun. The whole sky was awash in vibrant golds and ochre—her heart squeezed at the thought of painting it, of capturing it on canvas. Her fingers twitched, wishing she had a paint brush in them. A palette of oils. Unlimited time stretching before her to create.

“It’s up here.” Asim had led her to a new corner of the estate gardens. A stone building spiraled upward, a turret connected to the stone wall lining the property, as if it was a secret lookout spot over the goings-on. A tiny doorway led to a rickety stairway, winding up to a loft space overlooking the property. It smelled old in here, like maybe it was one of the first constructions on the estate. The wood boards groaned when they walked on them, and he led her to a narrow door in the corner.

“This is one of the original rooms,” he said, looking around as though it were his first time here, too. “My grandmother built it when she started renovating the estate. It was a way for her to oversee the progress as they built more and more.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, contemplating the far wall. “But there’s something else in here I want you to see.”

Asim opened the door, gesturing inside. Canvases lined the floor of a large closet; a folded easel leaned against the back wall. A couple shelves held shoeboxes full of stuff—a few tubes of paint poked out over the tops. It was a secret art shop on the estate. She covered her mouth with a hand, stepping closer slowly, as if advancing too quickly would make it all disappear.

“How long has this…” She swallowed hard, yanking her gaze toward him. “Has this been here all along?”

“My brother reminded me about them,” he said quietly. “It’s come to my attention recently that I’ve overlooked one of the most important parts of your life.”

Her heart swelled at the admission. His wanting to share this with her, only for her, made her tumble headfirst down the path she was desperately trying to avoid. But it couldn’t be avoided, only momentarily ignored. Asim, I love you.

Immediately her mind worked overtime to counteract the sentiment, to find some way to rationalize the feelings. You can’t love him. You’ve known him less than a month. This is all a ruse…just get over it. But rationalizing it didn’t help. The knowledge pulsed deep and quiet inside her.

“I know you’re unhappy here,” he said quietly, avoiding her gaze. He jangled some coins in his pockets as he paused. “My mother should be dissolving the engagement offer soon, and in the meantime, I want you to be happy. I thought I’d been doing enough. I want you to find your joy here. And then, when you go, you’ll be able to take part of this world with you in your travels.”

Tears stung her eyes, and she tried to swallow the emotion before it showed on her face. She stared at the canvases, scared to look at him. It wasn’t right. This whole setup wasn’t right.

She drew a shaky breath, blinking back some of the tears. “Wow. I didn’t expect this.” But really, she should have. Because at the end of the day, none of this was about her—it was about his self-serving mission. Get out of the engagement. Convince mom this is real. Wash his hands of her and both would be on their way.

She was the sap who’d fallen for him; she was the silly girl who’d made the mistake of thinking the affection might be mutual.

“I want you to be happy while you’re here.” Asim said it more forcefully this time, like maybe repeating it would jar something loose inside her. “Does this make it better for you?”

She looked up at him, feeling empty and strange, like her soul had been sucked out. What did she expect from him at this point? He’d never want her the way she wanted him. “I appreciate this so much.”

The words rang hollow, but maybe he wouldn’t notice. He leaned in to kiss her but she stepped away, turning her face. “I’d like to be alone for a little bit. I might try to paint something.”

Confusion streaked his face, and he squeezed her hands. “Will you come down for dinner?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” She turned away, reaching for a canvas. The painting material was a nice gesture; she couldn’t fault him for that. It was thoughtful and sweet. But it wasn’t what she wanted from him.

“Okay.” She could feel the questions in the air between them, his confusion about this sudden tension. But she couldn’t talk to him about it—not now. Maybe not ever. The truth was plain, and maybe it didn’t even require a conversation. “I’ll see you there.”

He stepped softly down the staircase. She watched as he walked away down the garden path, eventually disappearing into a grove of trees as he headed for the mansion. Once she was sure he was gone, she let her hand drift to her belly.

If she was truly pregnant, signs might begin to emerge soon. Morning sickness, or maybe even showing, if Asim convinced her to stay even longer. And then things would get really sticky. If any of them suspected she was pregnant, then surely Asim would only bring shame to his family, based on what he’d told her about their traditions and customs.

Besides, if he found out, what would he say? It might break her heart even more to learn that not only did he not want to be with her, he also doesn’t want their child. Or maybe he’d suggest keeping it but paying her off, acting as though he didn’t have a child while they maintained their separate existences on opposite sides of the world.

Just thinking about either of those reactions was devastating enough. And if she’d learned anything about Asim in these few weeks, it was that he wasn’t ready for any amount of responsibility in the family or relationship department.

So why bother telling him? Just get out of here and move on.

If she wanted to protect what few shreds remained of her heart, she’d have to act fast.