She sat down gingerly, careful not to snag any of the delicate silk lace.
“Priya, maybe you should just do my hair and makeup. Might be fun to have just us girls get me dressed.”
Priya gaped at her, aghast. “Your mother will have a fit, besides which, I could never make you look as good as the professionals.”
Before Meera could argue, the hairdresser and makeup artist arrived with all the other staff that would “process” her until every exposed inch was plucked, teased, polished or painted. The party was starting downstairs; Meera heard tinkling glass and merry laughter. She was supposed to make a grand entrance.
Meera sat all alone while everyone worked around her. She thought of Lily on her wedding day, surrounded by people who loved her, who were there to wish her well and get her spirit ready for the biggest day of her life.
She put a hand on her stomach and took a deep breath.
It was time to call Jake.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“SHE RIDES LIKE a beauty. I think she’ll do great on the trails.”
Jolene dismounted the horse and swung herself onto another one’s back. It was late morning but the air had a crispness to it, and the leaves were turning gold. The warm days were slowing, giving way to unseasonably frosty nights.
Things were finally coming together on the dude ranch. The house was almost finished, the stables repaired, the cattle sold for a good price and now that Jolene had helped him find a couple of rescue quarter horses, Jake could offer trail rides until he found horses to board. Jolene was also helping him build a website and had managed to talk a magazine into writing an article about him. She called it free advertising. He even had a booking. At the rates he was charging, if he filled one room each weekend, he’d be profitable within a few months.
He thought about his mother and the new life she had created for herself while his father had been waiting for her. He wasn’t going to spend his life like his father had. He saw Jolene galloping in the distance. He might not love anyone like he loved Meera, but obviously love didn’t conquer all. Maybe Meera had a point about choosing someone who could be a partner above all else. As Meera had so frequently pointed out to him, she wasn’t exactly the type of girl to help him run a ranch.
Jolene approached, slowing the horse to a trot. “This one isn’t quite ready, but I’ll work with him for a few more days. I think I can train him.”
“You sure you have time for that?”
Jolene smiled. “I told you, Jake, I’m moving back to Hell’s Bells. I’ll be here for you.”
He smiled back and took the reins as she dismounted. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he reached for it. Meera’s face flashed on the screen. He closed his eyes and opened them again to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Jolene came around and stared over his shoulder. “Jake, you need to answer it.”
He froze. Jolene pressed the answer button and moved his hand to his ear.
“Meera?” Did he sound as desperate as he felt?
“Jake? You sound different.”
“That’s because you haven’t spoken to me in a long time.”
“Oh.”
He could hear her breathing. He pictured her sitting all alone in her room, rubbing her temples.
“I’m glad you remember my number.” He was trying to sound lighthearted, to ease the tension, but it came out as sarcasm.
“You could have called me.” Her voice was equally snarky, accusation in her tone. Maybe he had expected too much of her, been too unrelenting in not giving up the ranch, but none of that mattered because she had asked him to have faith that she would be back. And that’s exactly what he’d done.
“You’re the one who left.”
“Jake...”
“When’re you coming back?”
Silence greeted him. Heart pounding, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get his heart to understand what his brain had already computed.
“Are you coming back?” His voice cracked.
“Jake... I...” There were tears in her voice. “Things are just complicated here, I...I...”
“It’s okay, princess, I told you I didn’t expect anything from you.” He hadn’t meant to sound so bitter.
“I’m sorry, Jake.”
“Goodbye, Meera.”
“Jake, wait...”
He stabbed the end button and threw his phone on the ground. It bounced on the gravel path before settling somewhere in the grass.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
MEERA DESCENDED ONE side of the double staircase into the grand foyer. As her hands ran down the smoothly finished banister, she remembered the gritty feel of another handrail, one that was an ocean away. Gazing at the sea of faces smiling, clapping, oohing and aahing at her, she searched for the one face that wasn’t in the crowd.
Raj was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a traditional Indian achkan. He took her hand when she reached the bottom step, and she thought back to the first time Jake had taken her hand, the tingle of excitement that sent shivers up her arm. Raj looked at her fondly. She felt numb.
Neela led the crowd into the ballroom. A traditional Indian music group struck up a popular track. A man began beating a Dholki drum, and Raj led Meera to the dance floor.
Meera knew the steps and danced effortlessly with Raj. She thought about the barbecue, the two-step with Jake, the exuberance that had powered her that night. Now, she felt listless, going through the motions in a trancelike state.
She studied Raj’s smiling face. He was a good man, a man any girl would be lucky to have. So why couldn’t she feel the same excitement with him?
She excused herself from the dance floor and was immediately surrounded by relatives and friends wishing to congratulate her. She put on a smile and said the appropriate words. She knew how to do this, to be on display, to put on a show. She knew her lines.
Raj’s voice over the microphone turned everyone’s heads. He was singing her a song, a popular sangeet commemorating his love for her. She couldn’t see Raj; the image of Jake with his guitar filled her vision. She couldn’t hear the song Raj was singing; her ears played the words Jake had written for her, the music that had touched her soul. She put a hand to her chest. She couldn’t do this.
She bolted onto the patio and sucked in some air. She heard the crowd applauding, and someone called her name, but she ignored it all as she bent over the railing. She needed a minute, just a minute, to clear her head. To clear the image of Jake from her heart. To shake off her memories of Hell’s Bells and free up space to make new ones.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. “Meera?”
Raj’s face was filled with concern, and she gulped. She could do this. She had practiced all her life. “That was a lovely song, Raj. Thank you.”
“Then why do you look like I just took away your most prized possession?” His voice was soft, his tone filled with dread.
She shook her head, the words to deny and soothe at the tip of her tongue. But her vocal cords froze.
Raj took her hand. “Meera, I know you still have feelings for Jake...” Feelings? Feelings I can control, feelings I can temper. He has possessed my soul.
“...but these feelings will pass. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but they will.” What if I don’t want them to pass?
“Raj, what if Jake is a permanent part of my heart? How could you live with the knowledge that I love another man?”
She searched his eyes for anger, fury, a reaction to the grenade she had thrown in his face.
He stepped back, his lips pinched. “Loved, Meera. You loved him. I’ve been extraordinarily patient with you, but I do expect you to be over him by the time we get married. I will not tolerate infidelity.”
Meera’s eyes blazed. “That’s not who I am, and
you know it. I’m not talking about being unfaithful to you. I’m talking about the fact that he may be a permanent part of my heart. How can you marry me knowing you won’t have my heart entirely?”
He took a breath. “Because, Meera, you have all of mine, and I know that I have enough love in me for the both of us.” He took her hands. “Meera, you have to see what I see. Close your eyes.” She complied. “I see a perfect life together, taking over your father’s practice, working side by side in our lab—we could find the key to treating heart disease, we could go global with the medical centers...” Meera opened her eyes.
“We would be the ultimate power couple,” she said flatly.
He nodded excitedly.
“And what about having a home? Children?” What about my fairy tale?
“Of course, that’s part of the package. We’ve been friends so long, Meera, we know we get along just fine. We’ll never be one of those couples that quibbles and fights over little things.”
She thought about the ups and downs, highs and lows that Jake brought out just by being in the same room as her. Raj was always a comforting presence, but she didn’t want security anymore. She didn’t want to operate on autopilot. She wanted to feel alive again, the way she had in Hell’s Bells.
“And what if I’m not actually the perfectly pressed Meera you’re accustomed to?”
“Meera, it’s very understandable to have prewedding jitters. I’ve known you for almost twenty years, and I know you hate these big showy events. Once all this wedding madness is over, you’ll start to feel more like yourself. You just have to get through the next two weeks.”
He nodded toward the ballroom full of people. “Look at your mother—she’s so happy. She’s waited her whole life for this.”
Meera followed his gaze. Her mother was resplendent in her own Valentino, a silver gown with a diagonal ruffle that mimicked the lines of a sari. Meera knew her mother had had both their dresses custom designed. The wedding was the event of the decade, and her mother hadn’t spared a single expense.
Just like she hadn’t spared any expense in sending Meera to the best boarding schools, paying for private tuitions and giving her the resources to make her a world-class researcher. She’d transformed Meera from the poor orphan girl into the belle of the ball.
What right did she have to throw it all away? To squander the chance her parents had given her, an opportunity that so many other little girls in the orphanage never got. Her parents asked for very little in return. What right did she have to destroy their dreams for her own selfish needs?
Raj offered her his arm. “Shall we go back to our party?” With a heavy heart, she followed him inside.
As soon as they were back in the ballroom, Meera’s mother called the crowd’s attention. She commanded Meera and Raj to the center of the dance floor, where Raj’s parents and her father stood. It was time for the official engagement ceremony.
In traditional Indian style, Meera first placed a symbolic ring on Raj’s finger. She had never seen the ring before; her mother had picked it out. Raj then produced a gold ring with a very large diamond surrounded by a few other large diamonds. It was big and ostentatious and Meera tried not to wince at how ridiculously showy it would be on her slim fingers. It wasn’t what she wanted.
Raj bent his head so he could whisper in her ear. “Honey, I personally chose this ring to show you how grand our life can be.” Her breaths were shallow. A little more loudly, he said, “It is believed that the reason this ring goes on the left ring finger is that finger has a vein that goes straight to the heart. Medically, this is not exactly true, but hopefully, with this ring, I’ll have a permanent line to your heart.” The crowd let out a collective “awwww.” Meera felt as if she was going to be sick.
It was all wrong. She couldn’t wear this ring for the rest of her life. She tried to take her hand away, but Raj was holding on tight. He was trying to slip it on her finger, but it was getting stuck. He kept twisting and pushing, but the harder he tried, the more the ring caught on her knuckle. He laughed nervously. “I guess it needs a little resizing.”
Raj was meticulous with details. He’d had her finger sized for the ring. That it shouldn’t fit now was a sign.
She shook her head and snatched her hand back forcefully. “It’s no use, Raj. It doesn’t fit.”
She turned and fled, pushing her way through the crowd. Stunned relatives tried to grab her arm, but she pushed them aside. Her dress caught on someone’s watch, and she pulled it roughly, ripping the delicate lace. She heard her mother screaming her name, but she didn’t care. The room was too hot, the air too thick. If she stayed, she would die.
She raced upstairs to her room and slammed the door. She tugged on her zipper, trying desperately to reach the back to pull it down all the way. She had to get out of the dress; she needed to breathe.
She pulled viciously and brought the zipper halfway down, then went out onto the balcony. The cool night air felt good on her heated skin. She needed to think. She looked at her left hand. The ring didn’t fit.
“Meera!”
The sound of her mother’s voice raised the hair on the back of her neck.
“What’s gotten into you? How could you be so laparwah, create such a scene downstairs and look at you, look at that dress!” Her eyes were filled with fury. “Why are you so intent on making a mess of everything?”
Meera stepped toward her mother, unable to hold back her tears.
“Mum, I can’t marry Raj, I just can’t. I want to, I know he’s a good man and I know I’m disappointing you, but I love Jake. I can’t live a lie my whole life—it isn’t fair to me and it isn’t fair to Raj.”
Neela’s eyes turned ice-cold. “So what do you propose to do? Give up everything you have—your life, your research, all your nice things—and go live like some poor commoner in America?”
Meera gazed pleadingly at her mother. “I know it sounds impossible, but I’ll figure something out...”
“And you’re going to break your father’s heart by leaving his practice.”
“I’ll talk to Pitaji. I think he’ll—”
“Meera, you are nothing but a child from the street.”
Meera’s heart stopped.
“All along, Prem thought we could educate you and make you our daughter, but how wrong we have been.”
Meera opened her mouth to reply, but Neela’s face twisted with such intense rage that Meera’s legs started to give way and she couldn’t speak. “Prem tricked me into adopting you. I didn’t know when we married that I was infertile, and the plan was to go to India and get a baby we could pretend was ours. But then he saw you in that orphanage, and he promised me you’d make us proud, that you would be the daughter deserving of our love and sacrifice.”
Meera gripped the railing of her balcony.
“Mum, please...”
“No, Meera. If you’re so grown-up now that you openly defy your parents, then you’re old enough to hear the truth. Prem threatened to divorce me when I first refused to accept you—that’s how much he loves you, from the moment he saw you. Why do you think he built up that big practice? It was all for you. And this is how you’re going to repay him? You...”
Her mother’s mouth was moving but Meera couldn’t hear her anymore. Blood pounded in her ears. She placed a hand over her chest. Her legs gave way, and she crumpled to the floor. Had she died?
* * *
MEERA DIDN’T KNOW how much time had passed. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours. When her senses finally booted up, Priya was sitting next to her.
“I need a shower.” Priya nodded and helped her to the bathroom. She tested the water temperature before letting Meera step in. Meera let the water pummel her face, her eyes stinging against the force of the spray. She wanted to blink but couldn’t. She wanted
to move but couldn’t.
Priya knocked on the shower door.
“Meera, Raj is still outside. You’re going to have to come out and talk to him.” She motioned to a chair, where she had laid out a change of clothes.
Priya turned off the water and handed Meera a towel. She was so tired, she didn’t even have the strength to put on her clothes. Priya slipped a flannel nightgown over her head.
She brushed Meera’s wet hair and wrapped it in a towel before leading her into the bedroom.
Raj was sitting on her bed, still dressed in his party clothes. Her balcony door was open, and the guests’ laughter floated up to her.
“Are you okay?”
She stared blankly at him. What exactly does he mean by okay? Nothing in her life made sense anymore.
He patted the bed next to him, and she sat down, sinking despite the firm mattress. He took her hand.
“I’m sure your mother didn’t mean what she said.”
Meera stared into space. “Actually, I think for the first time in her life, she meant every word.” Had she said that out loud? Her voice sounded so far away.
Raj patted her hand. “Would you like me to cancel the wedding?”
What a strange question to ask. There’s a wedding? Why is there still a wedding? My world has shattered, and there will be a wedding to commemorate it? Dark shadows swam before her eyes.
“What are those shapes?” Her voice was weak.
“Priya, can you get her some paracetamol and my medical bag from the car so I can give her a sedative? I think she needs to rest.”
* * *
MEERA WOKE UP the next morning with a heavy head. Streams of light poured in around the drapes. She looked at the bedside clock. It was well past noon. She rubbed her eyes. How long have I been asleep? She never slept in this late. Why was the house so quiet?
Her hair was still wrapped in a towel. She vaguely recalled Priya handing her tablets and water. She remembered Raj tucking her into bed and pulling the covers over her.
First Comes Marriage Page 23
