The Bollywood Bride

by Sonali Dev

  “I’m not sick. It was just a migraine. I shouldn’t have ordered that lemonade, it was too sweet.”

  “Migraine?” He looked livid. “You ran with a migraine? What the hell is wrong with you? How often do you get them?” He looked so large looming over her like that, and yet she had that old sense of safety as she looked up into his eyes. As though everything would be okay as long he was near.

  “I told you I’m fine. But I really don’t have the energy to fight right now.” Or to deal with that look in your eyes.

  He took a deep breath and sank down on the bench beside her. “I’m not here to fight.” He squeezed his temples, his fingers working to ease what he was struggling with. When he looked back at her, there was an apology in his eyes. “I mean it. I really don’t want to fight anymore.”

  Her heart gave another squeeze. She attempted a smile. “No?” she said, feigning surprise.

  When he responded with a small smile, stupid unchecked warmth burst in her heart.

  “I know. Shocker,” he said. It was the first time he had smiled at her since she’d come back. For a moment she forgot the pain in her body. She forgot everything.

  He ran his fingers through his hair. It was damp, freshly washed. “I’m actually here to apologize. I’m sorry about yesterday. I was a real ass.”

  It was probably just the heady soapy scent of him, but her own smile sank into her heart and made her loopy. “Well,” she said, stretching out the word until his smile widened too.

  “Hey, I was. I admit it.” He raised his hands in surrender. “You know I can be an idiot when I’m mad.”

  She swallowed and he looked away.

  She waited for the awkward moment to rekindle his anger as it had done before. But he didn’t say anything more. Her Viky had made up his mind and she knew that it was done.

  Still, her mind fought the calm that came over her as they sat there listening to the river gurgle over rocks. It had always been far too loud for such a small river. He traced the wet grass with his sneakers. The movement made muscles ripple against the black athletic jersey and sweatpants he wore with such careless ease. Another zing arced from her heart to her belly. Ten years of being frozen from the inside out and here she was, her body unable to remember the disgust it had felt at human touch. An Ice Princess without her armor of ice.

  The men she worked with looked like this after teams of experts spent hours putting them together. He was the guy her heroes were trying to look like. And failing, if her body’s reaction was anything to go by. Where she had felt nothing but cold disgust with her costars, with him the need to touch him, to feel the changes, to seek out the familiar, was so strong it made her belly clench. Her body just as much as her heart had always recognized him and would never stop punishing her for what she had done.

  “He really isn’t the right guy for you, you know.”

  She looked up. “Who?” she asked absently, breathing in the wet earth smell of fall mixed with the soapy scent of him—only, no soap in the world smelled quite like that. She wondered how long he had been waiting for her on the bench.

  “Sanjay . . . Mira’s brother,” he said with a frown.

  So that’s what this was about. Mira and her stupid professor brother. Ria twisted toward him and welcomed the stab of pain. “You’re right,” she said, sounding every bit as disinterested as she felt.

  “That’s it. That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “I don’t know, last night you were all for the setup. Don’t you have anything to say now?”

  She swallowed her groan. “Why don’t you just tell me what you want to hear?”

  “I want to hear how you can lose interest in someone so easily.”

  The sound of the river heightened the silence that followed his question. She shifted on the bench, but the pain didn’t work this time. His eyes shone with the intensity of what he was asking. His entire body waited, but she had no answer to give him. Not to the question he had asked, and definitely not to the question he hadn’t.

  His damp hair fell in thick spikes across his forehead. His mouth puckered the way it always did when he frowned. His every expression was so familiar it was as if she had never left. He was second nature to her, like the scars that marked her—after avoiding them in the mirror year after year, there was no forgetting exactly where each dwelled on her body.

  “I was never interested,” she said finally. “That’s what I was trying to tell Mira, but then you kept provoking me and I let you push me into a corner.”

  Something raw and unexpected darkened his eyes. He had loved to push her into corners when she least expected it. Loved surprising her shyness out of her. The way it had felt to touch him, with her entire body, skin to skin, cell to cell. The way they had fit together filled her mind.

  The blue-gray kaleidoscope of his eyes opened up, sucking her in. Water closed above her head. If she didn’t swim back up she would drown. She squeezed her eyes shut and caught her breath. “Is that why you were waiting here, to protect your precious professor from my clutches?”

  His silence was his only answer.

  How was it possible that he could look at her the way he just had and believe that she was some sort of callous man-eater? How could he have forgotten all the things he had known about her?

  But he had. She had done unforgiveable things to make him forget. And she would do it again. It didn’t matter that the thought of being near anyone but him made her want to vomit. She couldn’t tell him that, no matter how badly she wanted to, so instead she said, “Listen, I was serious yesterday. I have no interest in a relationship. With anyone. I just don’t have the time for it. And I’ll be gone in ten days, so what’s the point? Your friend’s safe.”

  The tension stretched across his shoulders didn’t ease.

  She made herself smile. “Relax. I’ll just have to find someone else to sink my talons into.”

  One side of his mouth quirked, but his smile was sad. “It won’t be hard either,” he said. “They must be lining up for one single poke.”

  Ria’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “Oh come on! You know that’s not what I meant. That came out all wrong. Your talons. I meant your talons. A poke of your—” His smile turned genuine and crinkled his eyes. “I’ll just stop talking now.”

  She nodded. “Please.”

  And just like that they were laughing. The kind of laughter that starts out in your belly and vibrates through your shoulders. Equal parts relief and embarrassment tied together by so much shared laughter from the past. Sweet pain jabbed at her muscles with every soft staccato burst.

  “Shit, that was terrible. I’m sorry,” he said, his shoulders still shaking. “I can’t seem to say anything right anymore, can I?”

  “Nope.”

  Their eyes met and held. An unguarded moment passed between them. No anger, no pain, just them. Ria and Viky.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and let the flash of pain bring her back to reality.

  “How’s Mira?” she asked, trying to keep herself grounded in it.

  He studied her face, searching for something, but he didn’t shut down. “Pretty upset. I think I really scared her.”

  “I’m sorry.” It was Ria’s turn to apologize. She hadn’t been able to get the bewildered hurt on Mira’s face out of her head.

  “I can’t hurt Mira like that again. I can’t believe I did that to her yesterday,” he said sounding weary and disappointed with himself.

  All his life he’d met every standard he’d set for himself and every standard those around him had set for him. It couldn’t have been easy with two legends for parents. It was the first thing people ever asked him. “You’re Chitra and Ravi Jathar’s son?” His parents had started their company as students at Stanford and grown it into a Fortune 500 corporation within years. As if that weren’t enough, Vikram’s grandfather was the first Surgeon General of India and his grandmother had al
most singlehandedly revolutionized fertility treatments in India. His other set of grandparents were decorated social activists who had pioneered community banking in villages to empower women. There were no black sheep in the Jathar family, only grand legacies. But Vikram had never shown any signs of pressure. He’d thrived on it, made it look easy.

  Now he looked tired. For the first time since she’d seen him again, there wasn’t an ounce of anger in him. And it broke her heart more than any of his insults had.

  “I think we should both stop saying sorry,” he said, his voice completely in control, and far too distant again. And the change in it stung far more than it should have. “I shouldn’t have said any of those things. Ever since you came back, I’ve been acting like an asshole. The truth is I never expected you to come to the wedding. You took me by surprise.”

  He had thought she would miss Nikhil’s wedding? How could he think that? He knew what Nikhil meant to her. All the pain in her body gathered in her heart.

  But this was exactly what she needed—for him to think of her this way. Not that warmth that had just sparkled between them.

  “Actually, I wasn’t going to come back.” The breeziness in her voice was all Ice Princess. “But I needed to get away for a bit. Paparazzi trouble, you know?” She gave a delicate, camera-worthy shrug. “This was the easiest way out.”

  Disappointment clouded his eyes. And the dance they’d been dancing between lies and truth continued on to the blaring background score of their past.

  He straightened, widening his shoulders to their full glory. His disappointment seemed to ease him. Disappointment was easier than the alternative. “I’m sure Nikhil is glad to be of service.”

  She didn’t react. It would’ve been too easy to start another argument.

  “I’m sorry, I’m doing it again,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “This should be about Nikhil. Not about us.” His voice hitched slightly on the word us, but that might just be her mind playing games. “I thought Nikhil was going to kill one of us yesterday. We can’t do this to Jen and him. It’s not fair.”

  “True.” Finally something they agreed on. No lies, no half-truths.

  “We’re going to have to live in the same house for another ten days. Are you going to be okay with that?”

  She nodded. “You?”

  “Of course. We were friends once. We can at least be civil to each other now.”

  She smiled. “I’d like civil.”

  He stood up and looked down at her. “You ready to head home?” His hands dug deep in his pockets.

  Ria stood. Pain stiffened her legs. She had to force herself not to fall back down. Oh please, just let me get home without completely humiliating myself. Just this one time. I swear I’ll never ever run again. Ever.

  She took a few steps, but her legs had turned so heavy and rubbery she wasn’t sure they were even connected to her body anymore. She forced one foot in front of the other, putting all her strength into it. Just when she thought she was going to pull off a graceless hobble back, her foot found a loose rock and twisted around it. Her entire body pitched at the most awkward angle and she landed with a painful thud on her hands and knees.

  In a second Vikram was down on his knees next to her. “God, are you okay?” He looked so surprised Ria wanted to laugh. A jolt of pain shot through her knee and she cried out instead. Gently, very gently, he slipped his arm around her and helped her up, supporting her weight with his body.

  His strength, his heat—her entire screaming body came alive beneath his touch and made every excruciating stab of pain worth it.

  He dusted the gravel off her palms, revealing streaks of blood under scraped skin. The crease between his brows dug deeper. “Can you walk?”

  Ria tried to take a step, but her knee couldn’t take her weight and she buckled again. In a single, effortless move he leaned over and swept her up in his arms, pulling her against his chest.

  “What are you doing? Put me down.” But it felt too good, too right, and her words fizzled on her tongue. She fought to keep her body rigid, to not notice the irregular strum of his heartbeat against her breast, to not melt into the warmth of his chest, to not reach for that patch of skin at the base of his neck where she had burrowed so many times. The pain, focus on the pain.

  “And do what, let you drag yourself home on your elbows?” He strode down the path to the house, carrying her as if she belonged in his arms.

  “I can walk,” she said, and his lips curled, tiny crinkles radiating from his eyes.

  Her face was too close to his. She could see the hints of tan and pink in his cheeks disappearing into the freshly shaved bristles on his jaw. She could feel the warmth of his breath, the dampness of his hair.

  She leaned away from him.

  His jaw hardened. “We’re almost home,” he said. “Try to focus on the pain. That should make this more bearable.”

  “I thought we were being civil.”

  “I’m carrying you. That’s civil enough, don’t you think?”

  She didn’t answer. She took his advice and tried to focus on the pain. Her knee pounded, her palms smarted, but all she could think of was the strength of his arms around her and the insanely intoxicating smell of his skin.

  As he stepped onto the deck and knocked on the kitchen door with his foot, Ria searched desperately for something, anything, to stop them from opening the door so she could stay in his arms for just a moment longer.

  11

  As soon as Nikhil opened the door and Vikram carried Ria into the house, a flurry of activity erupted around them. Uma and Vijay jumped out of their chairs and ran after them into the living room.

  “There, it’s over.” Vikram’s whisper was harsh in her ear, but he put her down on the couch with such gentleness, her stomach contracted in protest to the loss of his touch.

  Before she could say anything, Uma went off into a tizzy. “Good God. Ria, beta, are you all right? What on earth happened?” She sat down next to Ria, took her hands, and stared at them in despair. “You’re bleeding. Oh God, she’s bleeding. Vijay, she’s bleeding, do something.”

  Before Vijay Kaka could react, Vikram rubbed Uma’s shoulders. “Relax, Uma. She tripped. They’re just surface scratches.” His voice was calm, but the crease between his brows was a deep slash across his forehead. “I think she hit her knee. Nic, can you take a look?”

  Nikhil was already squatting next to Ria and rolling up her pant leg.

  “It’s the other one.” Vikram pointed to her right leg.

  “Look at you, my poor baby.” Uma pushed Ria’s hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear. She licked her thumb and wiped a streak of dirt off Ria’s cheek and dusted her elbows, cluck-clucking the entire time. “You went running again? What’s wrong with you, child? You’re on vacation. Can’t you just stay home and relax?”

  “It’s all that food you’ve been feeding her, Aie,” Nikhil said, easing Ria’s pant over her knee. “She’s going to kill herself working it off.”

  “Shut up.” Ria winced as he straightened her leg.

  Nikhil made a tsking sound. “That doesn’t look too good.” Her knee was bruised, the skin an angry red with a few dots of blood.

  Uma glared at Nikhil as if they were ten and he had pushed her and made her fall. Vikram walked back into the room with a bag of ice and handed it to Uma. Her face softened. She looked at Vikram as though he had just descended from heaven on angel wings. “Thanks, beta. Thank God you found her. Were you out running as well? What happened?”

  “Ouch!” Ria shrieked. “Will you stop doing that, Nikhil?” Although poor Nikhil had been doing nothing more than examining her.

  “I’m sorry.” Nikhil pressed the ice into her knee. It was only a little swollen, but it throbbed as if it had a life of its own.

  Nikhil removed the ice and inspected it again. “I don’t think anything’s broken, but we should get an X-ray to make sure. Dad, what do you think?”

  “It’s not broke
n, Nikhil. I really don’t want to go the hospital. Please,” Ria said. She knew broken bones and this wasn’t how it felt.

  Vijay squatted down next to her and examined her, nudging and moving her leg so gently she hardly noticed. When he was done, he patted her cheek. “I agree. I don’t think it’s broken either. We can wait until tomorrow. My guess is some analgesic, lots of ice, and lots of rest, and she’ll be ready to dance at the wedding. That okay with you, Uma?”

  Uma stopped in the middle of pacing the room. Instead of answering she turned to Ria. “I’ve been up for three hours now and you’ve been gone the entire time.” The horror on Uma’s face made Ria want to kick herself. “Please tell me you haven’t been running that long.”

  Vikram’s head snapped up and his eyes met Ria’s. Her cheeks flared with embarrassment. It had been an incredibly stupid thing to do. But she hadn’t meant to run that long. She just hadn’t been able to stop. Vikram’s jaw clenched, anger suffused his face again.

  “Uma Atya, I’m fine. Seriously. You heard Nikhil and Vijay Kaka. It’s just a scraped knee. It’s feeling better already. Really.”

  Vikram took a step back, moving away from her, away from all of them. “I have to go.” He tapped his watch. “You got this, Nic?”

  Nikhil nodded. “We’re going to knock her out and keep her in bed for the rest of her trip. She’ll be fine.”

  Vikram smiled a distracted smile that didn’t make it anywhere near his eyes. He looked so restless and eager to get away he might as well already be gone. “Go,” she wanted to tell him before they lost whatever peace they had garnered by the river. Within minutes he was gone, his hands filled with long, rolled-up tubes of paper.

  Ria watched his retreating back, and exhaustion and pain descended on her with such violence, it stole the air from her lungs and the strength from her limbs. She couldn’t even pretend to keep up with Uma’s worried inquisition and closed her eyes, unable to hold her lids open anymore.

  Uma let up and shifted her energy to making her comfortable. Before she knew it, Ria was fed, medicated, and led up to her room, where she changed and sank gratefully into bed. Uma tucked her in and the last thing Ria remembered was Uma’s soft hand stroking her forehead before darkness closed around her and at long last sleep claimed her.