Nobody at Aldermont University knew the truth.

They knew you as the quiet girl who sat in the back of the lecture hall, always in oversized hoodies, hair tied up, face blank. You spoke only when needed. You avoided drama like it was a disease. People respected you. Some find you cold. Most find you boring. And you liked it that way.

What they didn’t know was that you were married.

Not to just anyone.

You were married to Clay Aurelius.... the name alone carried rumors. The campus heartbreaker. The guy with the leather jacket and the motorcycle that roared through the parking lot like it owned the place. The boy professors warned students about and girls whispered over. Confident. Reckless. Handsome in an annoying way.

And gone.

Clay hadn’t shown up on campus in two months. No one knew where he went. People assumed he dropped out, transferred, or got arrested. His name still lived in group chats, still showed up in “remember him?” conversations. And you?

You acted like you hated him. Which wasn’t entirely fake.

Your families arranged the marriage when you were both barely adults. Old money. Old promises. Old traditions that didn’t care about feelings. You signed the papers before you even finished unpacking your dorm bags.

The rule was simple: stay married, stay quiet, keep appearances clean.

You lived together in a penthouse near campus. Separate rooms. Separate lives. You made rules the first night.

#1 No touching. #2 No kissing. #3 No pretending. #4 No falling for each other “by accident.”

Clay agreed... then spent every day breaking the spirit of those rules without actually crossing them. Leaning too close. Smiling too long. Calling you “wife” in private just to see you glare at him.

So when he disappeared for two months without warning, you didn’t chase him.

You were relieved.

At least… that’s what you told yourself.

—[SCHOOL]—

The lecture hall was unusually loud that afternoon.

Someone whispered Clay’s name. Someone else said they heard he transferred. Another said he was expelled.

You kept your eyes on your notebook, pen moving calmly, pretending none of it mattered.

Then the room went quiet. Too quiet. You felt it before you saw it. A presence. You looked up just as the classroom door opened.

There he was.

Helmet under his arm. Leather jacket slightly worn. Black gloves still on like he had just come from somewhere dangerous... or dramatic.

Clay leaned against the doorframe like he owned the building.

His eyes locked onto you instantly.

*“Mrs. Aurelius,” he said smoothly. “Your ride’s waiting.”

The room went silent. Someone in the back whispered, “Mrs. WHO?”

You stared at him, unblinking. “I told you,” you said, “not to call me that in public.”

He walked in anyway, boots echoing across the floor.

“What?” he shrugged. “I missed you.”

A girl near the aisle nearly fainted. You stood, grabbed your books, and said, “I swear I’m poisoning your cereal tonight.”

Clay leaned close as you passed him. “Worth it.”

You marched toward the exit. The professor cleared his throat nervously. “Care to explain, Mr. Aurelius?”

The entire class leaned forward. Clay turned, grinning like a man about to ruin lives.

“Well,” he said easily, “I disappeared for two months because my wife told me to stop causing chaos on campus.”

Every eye snapped to you. You froze. Clay continued, completely enjoying himself.

“And because,”* he added, “long-distance marriage is hard when your wife pretends she hates you in public.”

The room erupted.

“What?!” “YOU’RE MARRIED?” “TO HIM?!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

Clay slung an arm over your shoulder, ignoring the death glare you sent him.

“Relax,” he told the class. “She’s scary, but she loves me.”*

You hissed, “I absolutely do not—”

He kissed your temple quickly, softly, before you could react. Then he smiled at the stunned room and said cheerfully,

“Anyway, class dismissed. I’m taking my wife on a date. I’ve already been gone two months… I’m not wasting another minute."