Marriage by Arrangement

by Sophia Singh Sasson

Her mother nodded. “Yes, the sooner you finish that hotel, the faster you can go back to India and firm things up with your parents.”

  And then it struck Rani. That was Arjun’s ticket out. He would say that his parents didn’t agree. For now she was back in her parents’ fold, and when he dumped her later on, it wouldn’t technically be her fault. Her stomach bottomed out.

  “We should go and let Dad rest,” she said, desperate to get out of there before things got worse. She would make Arjun leave tonight and tell her parents he had an emergency at the hotel. The less time her parents spent with Arjun, the better. She didn’t need them falling in love with him too.

  When they stepped outside, Sohel and Anaya were eager to know how things went. Rani brushed past them and ushered Arjun into the hallway to the elevators. She had to get away from her family. When they got to the lobby, she spotted a sign for the hospital gardens and dragged him outside with her.

  The garden consisted of a courtyard with some flowering plants and metal picnic tables. It was relatively empty save for a few patients nursing cups of coffee and eating off cafeteria trays.

  She didn’t bother sitting down; her entire body was shaking with anger. “What were you thinking? Do you know what’ll happen when our fake engagement breaks up? My parents will blame me again. They’ll point out how my past has come back to haunt me and how I’ll never have happiness. You’ll play right into their beliefs that a divorce is a lifelong sentence for loneliness.”

  She was flailing her arms, her emotions raw and uncontrolled. The stress of the last few days had unraveled her.

  Arjun captured her hands in his and pulled her close. “Rani, why do you think this is all fake?”

  Her heart slammed into her ribs. Wait, what?

  She stared at him, her throat tight.

  “The last few weeks without you have been hell on me. I’m in love with you, Rani, and I don’t want to be without you. I wasn’t lying to your parents. I want us to be together.”

  She had to be hallucinating. The stress had finally gotten to her and she was about to crack. There was no other explanation for the words she was hearing from Arjun’s mouth.

  “What about Hema?”

  “I agreed to marry Hema because it was good for business. Hema doesn’t want to marry me. She’s doing it out of obligation.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “It will not be easy. None of this will be easy. For me or for you. But right now we don’t have to think about all that. All I need to know is that you love me, and that you want to be with me. Everything else, we can figure out.”

  He loves me. There were a thousand buts that went through her head. But what about his family? But how would they work it out? But what about what she wanted?

  “You know I make my own decisions. I don’t like how you took charge of the situation with my parents. I won’t be controlled, Arjun.”

  “That’s why I love you, Rani. You are your own woman. I should have talked to you before I said something to your parents. I just couldn’t stand to see you in so much pain.”

  Arjun pulled her into his arms and she savored the strength of his body, the beating of his heart. Its rhythm matched her own. She’d been herself with him. Never pretended to be someone she wasn’t. And he still wanted her.

  “Do you love me, Rani?” he whispered into her ear.

  That’s not the right question. The question is whether I can love you, whether I’m strong enough to love you.

  “I’ve fought with myself. I haven’t wanted to, but I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  He kissed her then. A soul-searing kiss that left no doubt in her heart about how she felt about him.

  Neither of them noticed Anaya snapping their picture.

  Fifteen

  Arjun had to return to Las Vegas, but Rani remained behind until her father was released a few days later. He’d made a speedy recovery, but the specialist warned the family that he was still fragile and at high risk for another stroke.

  Once he got home, Rani’s parents insisted she stay, and she drank in the love of her family. Sohel had his own condo on the other side of town but he stayed in his old bedroom too. It was just like it had been growing up, with all of them together under one roof.

  Anaya, Sohel and Rani were sitting on the brown-and-yellow shag rug in the family basement playing Monopoly. The room looked like it was stuck in the ’70s, with a nut-brown couch that almost blended into the rug. The walls were covered in green-and-yellow wallpaper. It was an obnoxiously decorated room but it comforted Rani like a ratty stuffed bear. There were many childhood memories here: watching Bollywood movies with the family, laughing at vacation pictures and sleeping together on thin mattresses when the cousins came to visit from India. Her parents never had much in terms of money but they gave their children every spare minute of time they had.

  “You’ve cut your hair so short.” Rani’s mother sat on the couch behind Rani and began braiding her daughter’s loose hair. Rani savored the feeling of her mother’s hands on her scalp. When she was a child, her mother braided her hair every morning before she left for school. At the time Rani complained and promptly undid the braids when she left the house because the kids made fun of her.

  She’d only appreciated how much her mother had sacrificed when she’d had to watch Navin’s two nieces for a week one summer. Rani had still been working and her mother-in-law had purposefully assigned Rani to take care of the two girls to prove to Rani that she couldn’t work and take care of children. Her mother-in-law had succeeded. Rani had lasted all of four days and by Friday had slept through her alarm, missed all her morning meetings, and been late dropping the girls off to camp.

  That was when she’d realized that her mother had been getting up hours before the children to make breakfast, get herself ready for work and then be available to braid Rani’s hair. And she had done it for decades, first with Rani, then Sohel, and when they were finally old enough to take care of themselves, Anaya had come along and her mother started all over again.

  “Rani, is Arjun coming back here?”

  Rani had talked to Arjun every day. He was getting staff lined up for the hotel but he’d asked if she wanted him to come to LA to see her.

  “He’s busy with the hotel.”

  “I’m doing a puja tomorrow night to thank the Lord Krishna for making your dad better. It would be nice if Arjun could come. He should see our house.”

  Rani looked at her mother and knew instantly what she meant. Her parents had researched Arjun and knew how wealthy he was. Rani thought about the flowered couch in the upstairs living room. The “good” couch that had been perfectly preserved underneath a plastic cover, the “new” kitchen that had been renovated fifteen years ago. There was nothing sleek, polished or grand about her parents’ house. Which was exactly why she had to invite Arjun.

  Arjun was well aware of her family’s middle-class status but it was one thing to know it and another to see it firsthand. Plus an official event at the parents’ house would take their relationship to the next level of seriousness and she wanted to see how he’d react to it.

  She excused herself to go to her room and text Arjun.

  Do you have plans tomorrow evening?

  His response was immediate.

  Yes but I could be persuaded out of them.

  How about dinner and a puja at my parents’ house.

  Okay as long as there’s dessert afterwards ;)

  She smiled. It had been weeks since they’d been intimate. Surely she could find some private time for them.

  Life is short. Dessert first.

  She smiled as he sent back a winky face emoji with two hearts. She still couldn’t believe that he loved her. When they were done texting, she booked him a room at the Beverly Wilshire. She wouldn’t miss this chance to be with him.

  Wh
en the next evening arrived, she decided to wear a pale pink chiffon sari with a lace trim. It was elegant and delicate. The sari had a rose-gold blouse that was skin-tight, sleeveless and cropped to a couple inches below the bra line.

  She stood in front of the full-length mirror at the hotel and began getting dressed. She had purchased a pink bra with just enough support and lift to work underneath the sari blouse, as well as a matching thong. She’d blushed the whole time she was at the store, thinking of Arjun seeing her in them.

  The sari also had a petticoat that started below her belly button and fell to her ankles. The main length of sari fabric was wrapped around and tucked into the petticoat to keep the sari in place. It had been a few years since Rani had worn one, and it took her a few tries to get the six yards of fabric wrapped just right.

  She wore her hair loose, the way Arjun liked it. With just five minutes to spare before he was to arrive, she quickly slid some liner around her eyes and touched her lips with gloss. She went to put on her rose-gold heels and realized that she should have tied the sari after putting on the heels to get the length right but it was too late now.

  She’d just grabbed the shoes when she heard a knock on the hotel room door.

  She opened the door a little breathless. And there he stood, looking even more handsome than she remembered. He was dressed in a traditional Indian kurta pajama. The long tunic top was cream-colored with maroon embroidery. The legging-like pants were the same maroon as the embroidery on the tunic. He had a matching scarf wrapped around his neck. If possible, he looked even more handsome in Indian clothes than he did in his Savile Row suits.

  He put his hand on his heart as he looked at her. “Wow. You are gorgeous, Rani.”

  Heat slid through her as his eyes roamed over her body. She waved him in. “Sorry it’s not a suite but my credit card limit is not that high.”

  “I couldn’t care less about the room right now,” he said in a thick voice. He pointed to the heels she was holding in her hand. “Let me.”

  She felt a wave of disappointment that he wanted to leave already. She handed him the shoes and sat down. He bent down on his knee and took her foot. My very own Prince Charming. Hope the shoe fits.

  “I talked to Hema.”

  Rani leaned forward.

  “She was so relieved that I’m going to break the rishta,” he continued. “The truth is that she’s been seeing someone she has real feelings for. Now we just have to figure out a way to tell our parents.”

  Arjun took his time buckling the straps on the sandals, then ran his hand up Rani’s leg. She shivered deliciously, craving the warmth of his body on hers. She took his hand and guided it further up her thigh.

  “How much time do we have before we need to get to your parents? I don’t want to be late.”

  She couldn’t care less about being late. “We have time. I had you come early.”

  His face broke into a grin, his dimple sending heat racing to her core. He bent his head and kissed the inside of her thigh. Her carefully tied sari was already starting to bunch around her knees as his mouth moved upwards. She parted her legs and he gently rubbed the outside of her silky panties with his fingers, then slid them underneath the fabric and inside her. There was no hiding how she felt, just like she was sure that if she reached down and touched him, he would be hard as a rock.

  He stood and hoisted her up with him. His hand was warm on her exposed lower back. He ran his fingers across her bare midriff. “Is this sari pinned?” She took out the clip that was holding the pallu in place. The decorated end of the sari began unraveling.

  “Not anymore.”

  “I like a woman who knows how to tie a sari without a million pins.”

  The fact that he knew he’d have to undo a bunch of safety pins rankled her. Exactly how many women’s saris had he taken off? Before, she hadn’t let herself think about all those women because the affair was just temporary. But now? Would he be satisfied if she were the last woman he ever had?

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Rani...” He kissed her neck, then whispered across her earlobe, his breath warm and intoxicating. “I can tell when your mind has gone someplace it shouldn’t.” He pulled her close to him and kissed the space between her jaw and ear, and she curled her neck into his kiss, enjoying the quivers it sent down her spine.

  “I was just thinking that you’ve had women who know how to please you in bed. Are you going to be happy with me forever? What if you stop being attracted to me?”

  He took her hand and guided it down to his erection. “You feel that, Rani? You are so sexy. With most women, it takes me time to get to this point. I just have to look at you and I find it hard to control myself.” He kissed the corners of her mouth. “After you, Rani, I don’t want any other woman on this planet.”

  His words wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she could be the one to drive a man hot with desire.

  The pallu had already fallen to her waist, showing off the tight blouse that did nothing to hide her taut nipples. Her midriff was bare. He grabbed hold of the pallu and tugged. She twirled as he unwrapped the sari. He tossed the fabric on a chair.

  He kissed her bare stomach and she shivered at his warm breath, her entire body responding instantly. He unbuttoned her blouse, then filled his hands with her breasts and slowly rubbed his thumbs over her nipples.

  “I can’t wait to see you in a Rajasthani choli.” He murmured.

  A Rajasthani choli. Rani stilled. A traditional outfit from his home in India. The palace he called a home.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You know, we haven’t talked about everything that’s happened. About what it all means.”

  Arjun cupped her face and tilted it up so he could look at her. “I was kidding about the Rajasthani choli. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. I’m not going to try and control you, Rani. That’s not the kind of man I am.”

  “It’s just, there is so much to work out between us. I wasn’t brought up with your wealth. My parents’ house is very different than yours...”

  He bent down and kissed her lightly. “I don’t care if you grew up in a cardboard box on the street corner. All that matters to me is that we love each other. We’re going to take it step-by-step. Let’s get through tonight, then we’ll sort out how to break the news to my parents.”

  He was oversimplifying things. But when he bent his head and claimed her mouth with heat and desire and promise, her mind went blank. She was no longer able to think about what lay ahead.

  This time their lovemaking was different. It wasn’t furious, despite how their desire was driven to new levels of ecstasy. They both went slower, taking the time to enjoy each other and let themselves melt into one another. Rani let herself touch and explore Arjun like he belonged to her, and the love she felt in her heart was unbearable.

  Could this be real? Or was her heart was about to shatter into a million unfixable pieces?

  Sixteen

  Rani had begged her mother to keep it simple. She had only been gone three hours but when she returned with Arjun, the house was chaos.

  If Rani had been worried about the seventies-era decor being embarrassing, her mother had gone all out to decorate for the puja. Christmas lights hung around the entire living room. Midway through, her mother had run out of the white ones so multicolored bulbs were haphazardly strung on one side of the living room. A statue of Lord Krishna and his wife, Radha, was on the fireplace mantel, decorated with flowers. Tea light candles flickered at the base of the statues. The scent of incense permeated the room.

  Her mother started the puja and everyone respectfully bowed their heads towards the statues but Rani caught Arjun looking around her living room. While there was no judgment in his eyes, Rani wondered how his parents would feel coming t
o a house like hers. They lived in a literal palace.

  Thankfully her mother kept the puja to under thirty minutes rather than her usual hour plus. When she was done, she came around with a large steel plate that contained a burning candle, red vermillion paste, and prasad, a sweet offering to the gods that was now blessed thanks to the puja and thus ready for human consumption.

  Rani’s mother brought the plate to the participants one by one, who put their palms over the flame to receive the light from the prayers, then dipped their fingers in the red paste and touched their foreheads. They also each took a piece of the prasad. When she got to Rani and Arjun, her mother waved the plate in front of their faces, then used her own finger to dot their foreheads with the red paste. “I prayed for you two, as well,” she said conspiratorially. “May God bless your union and you two have a very happy life together.”

  Their dining room table was filled with a variety of dishes that Rani knew her mother had spent all day cooking. They sat and filled their plates.

  “So, Arjun, I read an article that your mother wants a very traditional bahu who will help her run the household. Will you all live together in your big bangla in Rajasthan?” The question was asked by Rani’s father.

  Arjun’s gaze tangled with Rani’s. He cleared his throat. “Rani and I have not made any decisions. This is all so new, I think we need some time to discuss things.”

  Her stomach dropped. His eyes conveyed what his mouth couldn’t say. He hadn’t considered the full ramifications of marrying Rani. And she hadn’t, either. She was not moving to India. She’d been there a handful of times in her life and while she spoke the language and understood the culture, it didn’t feel like home.

  And what about his parents? While he may be able to extricate himself from his arrangement with Hema, would his parents accept her? Arjun was the most eligible bachelor in India, and by the community’s standards, she was far from a prized catch.

  A tense silence blanketed the room. “I think we should let Arjun eat before interrogating him,” Rani’s mother broke in. They switched to talking about Indian politics.