Strict

599 Days

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Mustafa showed up promptly at 9:00 a.m. You retrieved the bags from his car, only to find him kissing your ex passionately, her hiked up on the kitchen table.

Of all of them, his influence on Amanda seemed the most ... dangerous, the most pernicious. He didn't want to fuck her -- he wanted her allegiance to his beliefs and his causes over her own. By the evening hours, it felt like the last many months hadn't happened -- the Syrian flag once again flew in one window. The Algerian flag flew in another. And the Arab-African buck was fucking your ex into oblivion once more.

Late the next morning, Amanda offered a framework -- she could do lunch with you once a week over the next 75 days, but Mustafa wanted you sleeping elsewhere each night. Last time you'd picked Kase, a reflexive choice. Now you had options.