ILLUSION OF LOVE [MALE VERSION]

It was a late Friday night, around nine o’clock, and the weight of a grueling work schedule had kept me cooped up for weeks. Noticing my exhaustion, my friend Abhiral insisted we go out to blow off some steam. I willingly tagged along, expecting a quiet drink, but he led me straight into the vibrant, chaotic heart of Thamel—and into a local dance bar and brothel.

​Discomfort washed over me immediately. "Abhiral, where did you bring me?" I asked, looking around nervously.

​"Will you please keep quiet?" he snapped back with a grin. "This place is great—you’ll love it. Just come in, the world outside doesn't matter in here. I won't tell anyone you came." He forcefully pulled me through the doorway.

​Inside, the heavy bass of 'Dilbar Dilbar' reverberated off the walls. The atmosphere was a dizzying sensory overload. Groups of men sat on plush leather sofas sipping whisky, while others tossed bills toward the women dancing on stage. More than the crowd, the flashing, disorienting lights made me feel utterly out of place.

​I lost sight of Abhiral for a moment, eventually spotting him at the bar knocking back drinks. Standing there alone and anxious, my eyes drifted toward the dance floor. That was when I saw her. She wasn't strikingly beautiful by conventional standards, but there was a quiet, magnetic charm in her eyes that instantly drew me in. I stood frozen, entirely captivated by her movement.

​An hour slipped by unnoticed until Abhiral stumbled over, smelling of alcohol. "Let’s go?" he slurred.

​"Where?" I asked absently, still staring toward the stage.

​Abhiral looked at me, astonished. A smirk broke across his face. "What happened to you? You didn't even want to come here, and now you’re completely mesmerized. Did you fall for someone?" he teased.

​I snapped out of my trance and pulled my jacket close. "It’s nothing like that. Let’s just go home."

​Despite my brush-off, I couldn't get her out of my head. Over the next month, I began returning to Thamel on my own. I kept these visits entirely secret from Abhiral; he had a terrible habit of blabbering to everyone, and I knew he couldn't hold a secret to save his life.

​During one of those visits, I sat at a small corner table sipping a drink, watching her dance. Another worker there, a warm woman named Sajana, walked over to me. Through my frequent visits, Sajana and I had struck up a friendly rapport, and she had already picked up on my fascination with her colleague. She had even told me her name: Nujeena.

​Sanjana leaned down and whispered, "Why don't you go talk to her today? Her set is finished, and she's in her room right now."

​Taking a deep breath, I walked down the narrow back hallway and knocked on her half-open door.

​Without turning around, Nujeena called out, "Come in."

​I stepped inside, and her eyes widened in surprise. "You?"

​"Can I sit on the sofa?" I asked gently.

​"Okay," she replied softly.

​Her room was modest and cramped, filled with simple belongings. I took a seat on the worn sofa while she sat awkwardly on a wooden chair opposite me. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor, visibly nervous under my close observation.

​"Nujeenaji, will you go out with me?" I asked.

​She looked up, startled. "How do you know my name?"

​The room fell into a quiet, heavy hush. She seemed speechless, searching for the right words.

​Breaking the silence, I pressed on. "You didn't answer my question. Will you go out with me?"

​"Why would I go anywhere with a stranger?" she asked guardedly.

​"Because beyond this room and this place, there’s a wider, beautiful world out there," I said, leaning forward. "I want to show it to you. I've already spoken with your manager and arranged for your time off. I’ll come by tomorrow at six o’clock to pick you up. I hope you’ll be ready."

​Before she could object, I stood up and walked out, leaving her staring after me in disbelief.

​The next evening, we sat across from each other in a quiet cafe. Nujeena was visibly tense, clearly uncomfortable in a public setting, but she had come nonetheless. Whenever her timid gaze met mine, I offered a reassuring smile.

​A waiter approached our table, breaking the thick quiet between us. "Sir, what can I get for you two today?"

​"I'd like a milk coffee and a plate of chicken momos," I turned to her. "Nujeena, what would you like?"

​"Whatever you order is fine," she murmured softly.

​"Make that two milk coffees and two plates of chicken momos, please," I told the waiter, who nodded and left.

​Once he was out of earshot, I looked straight into her eyes. "There’s something important I need to tell you."

​She kept her eyes lowered. "What is it?"

​"I’ve fallen in love with you, Nujeena. I want to marry you."

​Her head snapped up, her expression a mix of shock and confusion. "What?"

​"Yes, I want you to be my wife."

​"We barely know each other," she said, her voice trembling. "You know nothing about my past or how I ended up here. Your family would never accept a woman like me, and neither would society. How can you possibly want to marry me?"

​"I don't care about your past," I replied smoothly, adopting a gentle, earnest tone. "I only care about you. We have plenty of time to learn about each other. But let me give you the basics: My name is Sanjay Shakya. I own a liquor and clothing shop at Durbar Marg. My parents passed away in a road accident a few years ago, so it’s just me."

​She fell silent, her expressive eyes searching my face as if looking for the truth.

​"Take all the time you need to think about it," I added softly. "I'll wait."

​She nodded reluctantly just as the steaming plates of momos arrived. We ate mostly in silence, and afterward, I dropped her off near her residence before driving home.

​Back at the quarters, Nujeena sat on the edge of her bed, confiding in Sajana. "Sanjog proposed to me today," she confessed, using the fake name I had given her during our outing. "He wants us to get married."

​Sanjana’s eyes lit up. "And what did you say?"

​"I didn't answer him."

​"Are you crazy?" Sajana exclaimed, grabbing her hands. "If a handsome man who looks like a movie hero asked me to marry him, I would say yes in a heartbeat! I'd leave this place behind and never look back. Please, tell him yes."

​"I... I have feelings for him too," Nujeena admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But I'm terrified. Society is cruel to women from places like this. They will never accept us."

​Sanjana softened, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Everyone deserves a chance at a real life, Nujeena. People might gossip at first, but over time, they forget. Sanjog seems like a wonderful man, and you are so fortunate to have a way out. Say yes and build a beautiful life with him."

​Nujeena fell silent, torn between the overwhelming fear of societal judgment and the blossoming hope of a life filled with love.

​A week later, at eight in the evening, I returned to Thamel. I waited patiently while Nujeena finished her shift. Once she retreated to her private room, I knocked and stepped inside when she signaled me to enter.

​Sitting back down on the familiar sofa, I looked at her directly. "So, what is your answer?"

​The room went completely still. Seconds stretched out, and when she offered no immediate reply, I slowly stood up, letting disappointment show on my face. "If your answer is no, I understand."

​I turned toward the door. Just as my hand reached the handle, her voice cut through the silence.

​"I'll marry you."

​I turned around, a broad smile spreading across my face. "You’ve made me the happiest man alive," I said warmly, stepping close to wrap her in an embrace. She leaned into me, resting her head against my chest, completely unaware of the reality behind my smile.

​We dated quietly for another month before holding a simple, private ceremony on July 6, 2016. There were no family members, no large crowd—just the two of us. Nujeena’s face radiated pure joy; she truly believed she was the luckiest woman in the world to have found a man willing to rescue her and give her a new life.

​A week after our wedding, she stood in the doorway of our bedroom, watching me pack a large suitcase. Tears welled in her eyes.

​Noticing her distress, I walked over and wiped a tear from her cheek. "Please don't cry. I have to go to London for two weeks on urgent business. The moment I return, we’ll go on a proper honeymoon. I promise I’ll give you all my time once this trip is over."

​"How am I going to stay here alone for two whole weeks without you?" she wept softly.

​"I'll call you every day, I promise," I reassured her, pulling her close one last time before picking up my bags and leaving for the airport.

​"Even though it took you three full months to come back, I’m just happy you’re finally here with me," Sophiya said, leaning into my arm as we walked through the chilly streets of London.

​"I only stayed away so long because of your temper," I chuckled gently. "You kept getting angry and refusing to speak to me for days, so I decided to take an extended trip back to Nepal."

​"Just because I get upset doesn't mean you can run halfway across the world!" she laughed, squeezing my hand.

​I smiled back, playing the role of the devoted partner seamlessly. Nobody in my immediate circle knew the truth about who I really was. To Sophiya, I was a respectable businessman, a loving husband, and a devoted father to our young daughter. She had no idea about the secret life I led in Nepal, nor did she know about the hasty wedding I had staged in Kathmandu.

​To me, Nujeena was never a wife—she was simply a brief, thrilling diversion, an escape from my routine. Once my flight touched down in the UK, I simply shut that chapter of my life closed. I never intended to go back.

​In the weeks that followed, Nujeena tried calling my phone repeatedly, her name flashing on my screen dozens of times a day. I ignored every single call until I finally had the number disconnected entirely. Safe and comfortable back in my real life with my family, I went on as if she had never existed at all.