Loving Me for Me

by Naleighna Kai

  Further down the block, at least five different cars were blasting music that was so obscene that it wasn’t fit for adults to hear it, let alone anyone under twelve. He couldn’t get Reign and his children out of this place fast enough. Now he was even more alarmed that she would turn this house over to Jay, who could not be any safer here than she and his children had been.

  “Wait,” he said to Reign, snapped from his musings by the strange object in her hand that had been placed in a clear box as though it was a treasure. “What is that?”

  She blinked, glancing down at her hand. “Something that provides personal pleasure.”

  “You’re going to be married,” he said, placing his focus on that “thing” again. “You won’t be needing that.”

  “Oh?” Her left eyebrow winged upward. “A married woman in name only,” she stressed.

  A little anger stirred within him. Her words filtered through his mind and interrupted any rational thought. He was giving her a chance to change her mind, to reconsider his concern about this. But that hard gleam in her eye was a telltale sign that she wouldn’t.

  “You insist on bringing something like that with you?” Devesh stretched his body out on the bed, then leaned up on his elbow to inspect the clock on her nightstand. They had four hours before leaving. “Reign, you can’t have something like this in my parent’s home.”

  She froze, blinked a few times as though hit by an unpleasant thought. “Your mother isn’t the type that’ll go through my things, is she?”

  Heaven forbid. No telling what else she would find.

  “We need to talk about this,” he said, unable to take his eyes off her possession.

  “There’s no discussion,” she snapped, placing one hand on her hip. “I have to give up my house, my job, my city, so you can’t expect for me to give up something that brings me pleasure, too.”

  “You will have a husband,” he said through his teeth.

  “In. Name. Only,” she shot back. “We are getting married for the children’s sake and no other reason.”

  Devesh fumed, tried to find words to put a voice to what he wanted to say.

  “Would marriage be on the table if Leena and Kamran didn’t exist? No?” She dropped that—whatever it was called—into the suitcase. “Then let’s not pretend this is a love match.”

  Was that all that mattered to her, having something “there” to fill the void? What about passion? What about touching, tasting, teasing, doing the things that brought on her breathy moans and pleasure-filled sighs. That night between them was the best it had ever been for him; the perfect climax to years that transcended friendship that was more akin to unconditional love.

  “Reign,” he said in a patient tone. “If you would stop being so angry and listen, you’d know that I wanted this marriage because it’s not only the right thing for the children, it’s the right thing for us. We’ve always had an affection for each other. I care deeply for you. I’ve always wanted you.”

  “I can’t tell,” she said, zipping the suitcase and putting an end to that part of the conversation. “Last I checked, Southwest has flights to Chicago every day. So you didn’t want me that bad, lover boy.” She winked, giving him a sly smile. “But nice try.”

  How could he get her to see that his love for her was a real thing? That he had felt that way all along. Now he regretted not being so open with her the next morning after they had made love. His focus on getting his family to accept her first had definitely been the wrong strategy.

  “You are making things more difficult than they need to be.”

  “No, I’m keeping it real,” she said, and began pacing until she came to a stop in front of him. “I have no intention of going into this with any false illusions. Neither should you.”

  Chapter 8

  “How can you be so cool with this?” Anaya asked her husband, Pranav, who paused in the middle of putting his gun into the safety box, locking it, then sliding it toward the top shelf of the bedroom closet. Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief. She understood that his job as a detective required the use of a firearm, but having a gun in the house always made her uneasy. Almost as much as this turn of events with her twin brother. “He could do so much better than her.”

  While the family had all wanted Devesh to settle down for years, they had been more worried when it took so long for Anaya to snag a husband. Being raised in America for the majority of her life, meant she definitely wasn’t a traditional Indian and the same went for Pranav Bakshi.

  “Why do you think your brother did not want me to marry you?” Pranav asked, sliding the holster from his body and placing it in the closet near the locked box. “There are some things that I’ve done that I’m not proud of. He’s well aware of it because I did my dirt when I was around him.” He switched off a television and dropped the remote on the bed. “But you and I did what we wanted to do and eloped. Of course, we had to have a separate ceremony to marry in front of the entire family. But we lived through his anger and your family’s disapproval and proved them wrong.”

  “But this is different,” she said, lifting the pearls from her neck and placing them in the jewelry tray.

  “How? Because she’s Black?”

  “Because she’s old,” she said shuddering,

  “Forties isn’t old.”

  Then she saw that he wasn’t buying that simple explanation and added, “And Black. And also kind of plain. You know, not as beautiful as a woman he should be with.”

  Pranav stared at her for a few moments, and she became a little unnerved. “Never thought I’d see a day when you were this shallow,” he whispered, dark brown eyes wide with alarm.

  She winced as though he had struck her.

  “What does any of that have to do with what he feels for her?” he demanded. “Devesh loves that woman, and nothing you all have said or done has changed that fact.” Pranav rounded the bedroom, passing the sleigh bed and stopping at the window that overlooked the tree-lined street of the home they moved into after they were married for the “second” time. “I’m going to need you to give him the same consideration that he finally gave us. She could actually be good for him.”

  Anaya shook her head, pulled a silky night gown from the hanger and asked, “How?”

  “He’s already made changes in his life for the better,” Pranav explained, putting his back against the wall. “As much as your parents were after him to let this modeling thing fall by the wayside, it wasn’t until he realized that he had to man up and take responsibility for his wife and children that he let it go. He made the decision with absolutely no regrets, no vacillating. Nothing has made him give up his career before now. This woman and the children she bore seem to be more important to him than everything else. That should tell you something right there.” Then he smiled. “He has children, Anaya. Children that already love him and you too.”

  Pranav was so right. The love that Leena and Kamran had for each other reminded Anaya of Devesh and how close they’d always been. But not close enough for Anaya to mention to him the childhood experiences that had haunted her for so long. She could never tell anyone, as it would completely destroy the family.

  Even through the period when Devesh had a hard time with their move from New Dehli to New York, she was the one person he could turn to. When he was traveling and working in some of the most dangerous places in the world, she could always feel that he was alright. And there were many months he lived in places where phone or email contact wasn’t possible. At the points she despaired the most, Devesh would reach out to her in some way. He would tell of exploits in places where poverty was so rampant that people ate some unmentionable things and did some unspeakable things to survive. He experienced things that disturbed him to this day. Something that he didn’t realize they had in common.

  Anaya tipped to the threshold, peered out and flickered a look toward her children’s rooms, grateful that the day had worn them out so much that they fell asleep the moment th
eir heads hit the pillow. She was so tired she wasn’t looking forward to going into the real estate office tomorrow, but she had three closings to attend. And even two days later, her concern for this unfortunate turn of events with Devesh was wearing on her.

  Her brother had always looked out for her, a lot more than their older brother ever did. Bhavin was equally as handsome as Devesh, had tried for a modeling career, but didn’t do half as well as Devesh. And the difference between the two brothers was that Devesh was more than willing to share his wealth. Her house, purchased with a wedding gift from him, was in an amount that allowed them to buy it at a steal—just like the Maharaj house. She only knew the details because she had been the real estate agent that put the deal together and for other members of the family as well. A lot of rich people in the area were experiencing a severe downturn in their finances. So much so, they were releasing their beloved homes for far less than market value. It was the main reason so many of the Maharaj family, with careers that spanned technology fields, franchises, and pharmaceutical research, had managed to snag upscale houses nearby and it kept them close.

  “I thought Amy was going to at least go the distance.”

  “But you didn’t want him to marry her, either,” Pranav reminded, picking up the remote and clicking on the nightly news. “You mentioned that she was too flighty. Amy was a fun thing for him.”

  “But she kept his mind off Reign,” she said, hating the defensive tone that crept into her voice. “I was so glad when she wised up and left him alone.” She thought back to that period in Devesh’s life. “But I’d never seen him so sad. My brother has been a lot of things, but sad was never part of his vocabulary.”

  Devesh had changed after separating from Reign. He withdrew, like nothing interested him as much anymore. Then he started writing. Her brother, who didn’t care for it at all and who struggled in English class growing up, was suddenly penning poems and putting words in a journal. It hurt Anaya’s heart when she snuck into his room and read a few of the things he’d written. The love he felt for Reign was deep. Maybe too deep to understand. But would a woman like that make him happy?

  The move from New Delhi to the Bronx had been filled with adventure. While Anaya had embraced the Hip-Hop and Rap scene breaking out in the Bronx and had made friends easily, Devesh had been bullied because he was so scrawny and different, with an accent that set him apart from boys his age. No one could imagine that he would become the heartthrob that would return to take the runway and Bollywood by storm.

  The storm fizzled when jealousy set in and A-List actors, who had been in the business much longer than Devesh, put the word out that they didn’t want to work with him. Opportunities dried up faster than a Solapur raisin. All the music videos, commercials, and runway gigs became a thing of the past. Then some shady producers had lured Devesh with false promises and nothing had come of those efforts. But her brother, ever the optimist, had not given up. Until something happened in India and he returned to America then washed his hands of Bollywood altogether. For some reason, success at breaking into the American market was not happening. He’d been sorely discouraged, but still kept at it day after day.

  Now, thanks to this woman, he would never become the Bollywood or American film star he was meant to be. Another reason to resent her intrusion in their lives.

  She stilled her movements noticing that Pranav watched her closely, almost as though he could sense Anaya’s unpleasant thoughts. She would have to tread carefully where Reign was concerned or she was going to have trouble, not only with Devesh, but with her own husband as well.

  Chapter 9

  Devesh absorbed the implications behind Reign’s need to assert her sexuality in this manner. Not once had she considered that maybe they could have a marriage that was more than “in name only”? Not once did she believe that he still valued her for what she had been to him and what he knew she could be?

  He reached for a manila envelope that was right next to her passport. “May I?”

  She slowly nodded.

  Devesh slipped the contents from the envelope and found two birth certificates. One for Kamran Javesh Maharaj-King and another for Leena Devanee Maharaj-King.

  Reign placed a finger to her son’s birth certificate and spoke the meanings of the names she had chosen—“Success related to God,” then she touched the other document and said, “Devoted to the Divine.”

  Reign had selected their children’s names carefully. Maharaj meant royalty and the fact that Reign’s last name was King was telling. She had given the children his last name along with hers, but the space for where his name as father belonged on the birth certificates was empty. That saddened him in no small measure. Like he hadn’t mattered enough to fill even that space.

  “Reign …”

  She stared at the space he touched, thought about it for a long moment and said, “We’ll have to go downtown to make that happen. Shouldn’t take long.”

  Why did it feel like he would never be ahead of the curve when it came to this scenario? “May I ask you a question?”

  Reign extracted the documents from his hands and returned them to the envelope. “Shoot.”

  “I know from our conversations years ago that you didn’t want children.”

  She lowered onto the bed, pushing the suitcase aside, waiting.

  “What compelled you to give birth to Jay?”

  Reign grimaced, inhaled and let out a long slow breath. “You misunderstand. I enjoyed motherhood; I did not enjoy pregnancy. Even at fourteen, being pregnant with Jay took such wear and tear on my body that I lost all of my hair, a substantial amount of weight, and I couldn’t even keep water down. The doctor was going to take him because I became so sick.” She adjusted to a more comfortable position on the bed. “Truthfully, I think I didn’t want to be pregnant, and my body was trying to accommodate what was in my mind. Then I had the dream.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, she took a moment to pull herself together before looking up from her clasped hands to acknowledge him. “That night before I was supposed to go to the hospital for them to take him out of my body, I had a dream, and it was so vivid, so real, that the reason and meaning were clear.”

  Devesh shifted on the bed, keeping his focus on her eyes. “Will you tell me what it was?”

  She looked at him for a few moments. “I was an Asian woman who had two little girls and I’d just given birth to a son. We lived in a palace, and I was an emperor’s wife, third wife, concubine or whatever. But I had a boy child, and as soon as I’d weaned him off my breast, they put me—and the girls—out of the palace. They kept my son. They … took him from me.”

  The wavering in her voice showed there was an emotional tie to the experience. Devesh remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

  “Every day for an entire year, I would come to the palace gates and plead for the return of my son. No matter the weather, I was out there with my daughters, who cried with me; cried for my son and their brother. Finally, the guards or someone inside the palace must’ve grown weary of our voices because they brought him out to me.” Reign smiled then, as if feeling everything the dream had to offer. “We were so happy; jubilant about his return.”

  Then the smile disappeared, and she closed her eyes while recanting the rest. “We walked away from the palace and somehow ended up in a dark tunnel. So dark that I couldn’t see anything ahead of me. The little girls disappeared along the way, but I was still carrying my son. The further I went inside, I saw faces of people that I knew in this current lifetime.” She shook her head, trying to bring her emotions under control. Then she opened her eyes. “They were bringing me things, Devesh. Presents, all kinds of gifts that would help me with my son. Their actions let me know that I should not be afraid because everything I needed would be there.”

  Devesh leaned in to wipe away the tears making tracks down her cheek.

  “When I woke up from that dream,” she whispered, adjusting so that her back was against the
headboard. “I wanted my child. I wanted him. I sat down at the kitchen table, and for the first time in two months, I had a meal. A real meal. Not crackers or ginger ale. Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, green peas and carrots and an ice cold glass of lemonade. Oh, and a biscuit,” she said, smiling. “Don’t forget the biscuit.”

  Devesh laughed because he was well aware of her love for freshly baked bread—especially Indian naan.

  “For the first time in weeks, my food stayed where it was supposed to. Instead of being frightened about the pregnancy, I was looking forward to holding my son and letting God send me the help that I needed. I was so afraid. I felt so alone without my family and the baby’s father. Roberto had wanted me for a good time, and that was all. Maria could only do so much, but even she couldn’t make her son take responsibility for his actions. The courts forced him to, at least on a financial level. But he didn’t give a damn about his son.”

  If Roberto had been standing in front of him, Devesh would’ve smacked him upside the head. Thank God that Jay had everything that was wonderful about Reign inside of him. His determination, his drive, and generosity matched his mother. But he also had a peaceful vibe that was unlike Reign, a calming nature that was a balance to her fiery nature. She had raised a wonderful young man and Devesh was grateful that their relationship hadn’t ended at the same time Reign had disappeared from his life.

  “Having my son was the best thing that could’ve happened to me. I took risks because of him that I would not have taken if I were on my own.”