Accidentally Engaged

by Farah Heron

  “My father is uncompromising. This is all a taint on the family reputation. He had my name wiped from the controversy surrounding the hotel failure, and here is Salim Shah publicly stating I’m marrying his daughter. Whether it’s true or not is beside the point.”

  So that was it. Because of stubborn parents and idiotic competitiveness, she was losing him.

  “Hey, Reena.” His hand came through the gap and returned her phone. “Don’t be upset.”

  “How can I not be upset? I wish, just once, something would happen to me, good or bad, that had absolutely nothing to do with my parents.”

  He smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t have even met you if it wasn’t for them, so I’m glad for their interference.”

  He watched her, his face showing that Nadim-mischief, that playful smirk she loved.

  Their eyes held for several seconds.

  “Reena, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hidden my past from you. I should have followed my instinct a long time ago and thrown myself at your feet, telling you exactly who I was and what I’d done, and begged you to take me anyway.”

  She scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You weren’t that into me.”

  “Wrong.” His voice lowered to a bare whisper. “I was into you. Right away. If you’ll recall, I asked you out before I knew who you were. I wanted my hot neighbor, not a wholesome bride.”

  “I’m not hot,” she said, immediately regretting the words. But she wasn’t, at least not compared to someone like Marley. Or Jasmine, for that matter.

  “Are you kidding? Those sexy black curls? That smile? Not to mention the smell of bread coming out of your apartment for days before we met.” He turned away. “And that’s why you scared me so much. You checked all my boxes. Even the secret boxes no one knew about. I could barely breathe that night when I found you sitting outside my door barefoot with a bag of bread. You were prickly and so independent, but I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. You feel like home.”

  She snorted, still not really believing him.

  He turned to look at her again. “Reena,” he said slowly. “I liked you. A lot. I still do. I should have been honest with you, but I didn’t want you to find out how grossly unmatched we are. You are my superior in every way. I didn’t deserve you.”

  He reached down and placed his hand on the floor in the four-inch gap in the door. She placed hers on top. He immediately flipped his hand over and curled his fingers through hers.

  They stared at their connected hands together for a time, heat rising between them. If it wasn’t for the thick metal chain holding the door, there would be a lot more touching than just their fingers.

  She let her mind go there. If that door were open, she’d climb onto his lap, which had become her favorite place to be in the last few weeks. She’d run one hand up his shirt and the other through the back of his hair. No wait, she’d take off her shoes and socks first.

  “Reena, my flight to Dar es Salaam is on Monday.”

  She closed her eyes. The distance was too great. And four more days together would only make the day he left harder.

  “My dad can talk to yours,” she said quickly. “He can tell him how well you’re doing here and—”

  “No,” he said.

  “No?”

  “No. I don’t want to do that. Don’t get me wrong, I love Toronto and would be happy here, but…I can’t let him be the puppet master in my life anymore. I wanted to finally make him proud here, but…” He sighed, squeezing her hand. “I’m not sure he’ll ever be proud of any decision I make. And I’m not sure why I still care. I’m thirty-two years old, and I still have daddy issues. It’s laughable.”

  “We don’t have daddy issues. We have Indian parents. That shit runs deep.”

  He laughed, squeezing again. “I like your father. I respect him. In another situation, I think we’d work amazingly well together. But the deal was my father’s investment in exchange for my job. My father pulled his investment, so no more job. And no more work visa, so I can’t stay in Canada. I can’t impose myself on your father anymore, even though I really wish I could see where things could have gone with his delightfully terrifying daughter. But who knows…maybe one day you’ll come to Africa?”

  She smiled at that thought. Anything was possible. “What will you do there?”

  “I don’t know. My old friend Jabari owns some luxury hotels, and he’s approached me to work for him before, so maybe that. I don’t need anyone buying me opportunities.”

  She respected that. She couldn’t steal his chance to stand on his own two feet.

  Long-distance relationships were torture, but a long-distance relationship with someone who lived in freaking Tanzania bordered on impossible. It would be preposterous to try to continue this relationship.

  She bit her lip.

  The stupid gap in the door that she thought would protect her hadn’t done a thing. His eyes were deep. And they held so much hope for a future. But for him to stand on his own feet, they couldn’t be together.

  “Open the door, Nadim. Let’s say goodbye properly.”

  He grinned, no doubt pleased she seemed to understand him. This was a goodbye, but without regrets. After a final squeeze of her hand, he let her go and she stood. She heard him unlatch the chain, and seconds after the door was opened, she was pulled into the most enveloping, worshiping hug of her life.

  He squeezed tightly as she buried her face into his neck, inhaling his clean manly smell for maybe the last time.

  His hands rubbed her back for a second before trailing down tantalizingly slowly, until she was completely in his arms.

  She inhaled into his chest, and then used one hand to clutch at his shirt while the other pulled his neck down to capture his lips in a deep kiss.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Reena had some vague ideas from books and movies of what goodbye sex would be like. She expected it to be bittersweet. Sensual. Lingering looks and worshiping hands, searching over every inch of their bodies, slowing down to memorize every sight, every touch, every sensation to capture the memory, forever. It was supposed to be an intense, transcendent experience.

  Instead, Nadim ran away for a second to get a condom before fucking her senseless against his front door. The same door she’d sat against for half an hour, listening to him tell her she felt like home. But just like everything else that had happened with Nadim, their final night together didn’t abide by anything as mundane as expectations. It was playful. Exuberant. Exactly perfect in every way.

  Sweater still on one wrist and bra hanging off her elbow, Reena held on to his shoulders as she caught her breath.

  “Wow” was all he could manage, head resting against hers.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” she said. “What’s wrong with a bed?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with a bed. I love beds. Especially pink four-poster beds with ‘I heart Spike’ carved into the headboard. But we have so many surfaces we haven’t made love on.”

  “How many surfaces are we talking, here?” She lowered herself to the ground and attempted to replace most of her clothes.

  Grinning, he pulled her to his sofa before she could put her sweater on. “Hoping you had a good dinner; you’ll need the energy.” He kissed her again, kneeling in front of her. “No more secrets?” he whispered in her neck.

  “None.”

  He smiled, pulling back to look at her. “Good. Because I’ve been meaning to ask you…were you really Team Spike? I thought all the girls were into Angel.”

  She laughed, looping her arms around his neck. “What the hell would I do with a brooding, moody vampire? Even when I was fifteen, I preferred my blood suckers dangerously funny”—she leaned close—“and with sexy British accents.” She kissed him. “You were probably into Buffy or Faith, right?”

  He laughed. “Nope. Firmly Team Willow. Smart, adorable, and supernaturally talented with ingredients.”

  She chuckled as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “What’
s going to happen to my bed when you leave?” she asked.

  “Don’t know. Guess your parents will take it back. Want me to leave it for you?”

  Reena frowned. She’d slept on that bed for probably eleven years but wasn’t sure she could anymore.

  After wrapping themselves in the throw from his couch, they sat, talking for hours about everything from their favorite books and TV, to places they wanted to visit, to ridiculous things they’d done in college. It was amazing. Their first night together with no fear of secrets coming out. No sidestepping topics. Just honesty.

  She finally got the backstory of his foot fetish—he had gone to a classical Indian dance show as a boy and had been forced to sit on the floor right in front of the stage. The dancers’ feet had been at eye level, and were adorned with belled anklets, toe rings, and elaborate mehndi. Watching those beautiful feet dance with agility and power had created a fascination with women’s feet, and all that they could do. She laughed at his story but still pulled her socks off. Then, using the practiced dexterity she’d mastered the last few weeks, she used her toes to pull down the waistband of his flannel pants and show him exactly how talented her feet were. She loved watching him in that moment of bliss, eyes alternating between wonder and rolling back in his head with boneless pleasure. She finally had a moment she wanted to memorize—Nadim, completely stripped down to his base desires. Just for her.

  Finally, they roused themselves from the nest of his couch to make sandwiches. It would be a long, energetic night, and they needed fuel.

  She sliced his most recent sourdough (it still seemed a bit flat to her—she regretted that she wouldn’t be able to show him her folding technique, which wouldn’t deflate the dough so much), and he wrapped his arms around her back and inhaled in her neck. He looked down and chuckled. “Are you putting coriander chutney in my grilled cheese?”

  “Yes. It’s delicious. Trust me.”

  “When it comes to food, I always trust you.” He released her and headed to the fridge. “You want a beer?”

  “Nah, I’m fine. Just water.”

  He looked at her quizzically for a second before shrugging and pouring a glass of water. He watched her as she flipped over the sandwich. “You know, I’m going to really miss watching you cook.” He put his hand on the back of her neck, rubbing her skin softly. “The semifinal results are live tomorrow, right? My dad already bought my ticket, but I can try to change it if we get into the finals. We can still do the last video.”

  She had assumed if they got into the finals, they’d have to forfeit. And she was okay with that. After all, if they won, then what? They weren’t engaged. There’d be no marriage. The winners got a TV special. She didn’t want to lie again, and definitely not on national TV.

  “I’m okay. I…I don’t really need it anymore.” She took a deep breath. “I was so unsatisfied with my life, and it may sound weird, but I thought winning this would save me. But…maybe I don’t need saving. Or maybe I can save myself. I don’t want to lie anymore.”

  It stung to lose the opportunity for the Asler Institute scholarship. It was another loss to add to the pile. Like her career. And finding this amazing connection with someone, then watching it walk away. But even with all that loss, she still felt confident she would be okay.

  She looked at Nadim. She’d been convinced that he was the only reason she was coping with unemployment this time. But maybe that wasn’t true. Yes, Nadim had been there—but that’s because she’d let him in. She’d trusted a man she didn’t know, one her parents had set her up with no less, to support her when she knew she needed it. And when Nadim wasn’t in her life anymore, she’d relied on other support. Her friends, and (shudder) even her family. She was no longer paralyzed with anxiety about her inability to cope with life. She could cope. She did. She didn’t actually need him.

  She did still want him, though.

  Just minutes ago, they agreed on honesty. She knew his past now, the very things he hadn’t wanted her to know. She could no longer keep the truths she’d hidden from him.

  As they moved to the table with their sandwiches and sat side-by-side, Reena took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as ever.

  “It’s true, what I said.”

  “Hm?”

  “That I’m okay, I meant it. And that’s actually a bit of a surprise.” She tried to smile. “This last week, since Sunday, it’s been hard on me. But…I was strong. I was okay.”

  He smiled with such fondness that she thought she might let out a tear or two. Or twenty. She was so sad he was leaving. But she was okay.

  He touched her cheek. “I don’t know if I should be upset that you were okay about it all, because I was miserable, but Reena, you are strong,” he said.

  “That’s just it. I was hiding this from you, but I’m not strong. I’m kind of a wreck.” She paused. “I’ve been in really dark places before. Several times. The last time was when I lost my job a couple of years ago, I stopped doing…anything. I barely left the house for weeks. I drank a lot. Other times before that I didn’t drink so much, but I just felt…dead inside. Like I didn’t know how to feel anything anymore. They’re depressive episodes. I’ve been on meds before, but haven’t been on them for a while.”

  His head tilted. “Reena, I’m sorry.”

  “My sister has a diagnosed mental illness, too. But I always felt that my issues weren’t as important or as severe as hers. And, of course, mental illness isn’t exactly openly discussed in this culture. I get through the episodes, usually by keeping very busy. That’s why I started baking bread.”

  “So you’re okay now?”

  She shrugged. “I dunno. I feel okay, but who knows how I’ll be tomorrow or next week.” She left it unsaid that he was leaving next week. “I called my doctor today. I’m long overdue for a checkup, anyway. I’ve been pushing this under a rug, and I don’t want to do that anymore.”

  He smiled softly and took her hand in his and squeezed. “See? Strong. I’m glad you told me.” He pulled her into a deep, hard hug, and she buried her face into his chest.

  He leaned back to look at her and kissed her briefly. “I’m still sorry about the contest. I know how much you wanted that course. It would have been good for you.”

  She linked her arms around his neck. “It’s fine. Honestly.” It had to be fine. The perfection of this goodbye, their honesty, she couldn’t risk souring it. The memories of the video shoots with him told her one thing loud and clear—she could not, she would not survive another one with this man. His heartfelt speeches about home, food, and belonging. His loving glances at her. The last video’s theme was supposed to be family celebrations. She couldn’t celebrate family with the man who would never be her family.

  * * *

  They had a long, lingering kiss in the hallway in the morning, and Reena finally felt bittersweet about this night. The unfair feeling that the moment couldn’t go on forever mingled with her gratitude for right now. He may not love her the way she loved him, but this meant something to him. Something huge.

  “So…” she said, not sure how to leave it.

  He laughed. “So, I wish I could stick around with you all day, but I have two meetings I can’t miss. I know it’s my last week of work, but—”

  She smiled. “Go. Don’t piss off my dad.” She shoved him gently toward his apartment.

  He took two steps backward into his unit. “Will we see each other again?”

  She bit her lip. “I don’t…” She shook her head. “I don’t know if we should.” She smiled sadly as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She couldn’t spend the next few days with him without making the goodbye harder. “This has been perfect. Thank you,” she whispered.

  He reached out and took her hand. Raising it to his lips, he skimmed the back of her hand with a ghost of a kiss. “No, Reena, thank you. Expect to hear from me soon from Dar es Salaam. Whether you want it or not, you have a new friend in Africa.” He let her go, smiled, and closed the doo
r.

  It was over.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  It seemed unlikely Reena would be able to manage much for the rest of the day but catch up on lost sleep, so she changed into her coziest sweats, brewed a large mug of coffee, and sat on the couch to think. She had made a big decision on the two steps between their goodbye kiss in the hallway and her apartment—no more searching for a finance job. She wasn’t sure what she would do instead, and she realized she would probably take a significant pay cut to start a new career, but she was done with taking the easier route, if that easy came with misery. Tomorrow she would call Abigail to talk to her about a career change. Maybe even look into classes to retrain in a new field. And she would talk to her parents about this. She had no intention of working with them, but she would take the support they would no doubt give—on her own terms. She pulled her computer onto her lap. It was time for research.

  Reena had barely opened the continuing education site for a local community college when her phone rang. Saira.

  “Mum says hurry up because there’s always a line at the kebob place. Who goes for kebobs in the morning anyway?”

  “Saira, what are you talking about?”

  “We’re downstairs. You on your way?”

  Shit. Wedding clothes shopping. She forgot.

  “Ugh, Saira, I had no sleep last night.”

  “Mum invited Shaila Aunty and Marley. You have to come.”

  Reena sighed. Great. A whole family thing. She was not in the headspace for this. “Give me a couple minutes.”

  She was dressed and out the front door in a little under ten minutes. The grungy ripped jeans that were conveniently hanging off the end of her bed weren’t the best choice for a day spent at Indian formal wear stores, but she couldn’t make herself care about her appearance now.

  Shaila Aunty and Marley were in the car when she got to it. She slid in next to Marley. After greeting her mother and aunt, she turned to her cousin. “Hey, Marley, how come you’re joining us?”

  “I needed her fashion expertise,” Saira said, leaning over Marley. “And Shaila Aunty knows the manager of this store.”