by Alisha Rai
“I can’t. I messed everything up.” She blinked back her tears. She would not fall to pieces, not yet.
“You didn’t. Granted, I’m just getting briefed on the whole story, but I’m on your side.”
If only she had time to spill the whole sordid story to her sister.
“Do you want to be engaged to this guy? Does he want to be engaged to you?”
He didn’t mind it. “Yes.”
“Well, then, there you go.” Sadia leaned back in her chair. “Sounds like the two of you are on the same page.”
“It’s not that easy—”
“Why not?” Sadia shook her head, her hair swishing. “Sometimes, when you take out the noise, life can be exactly that easy.”
Jia picked at her nails. “I wish I could do something without drama.”
“Then you wouldn’t be you.” Sadia gave her a soft smile. “And I think you’re pretty wonderful.”
Jia took the cocoon of acceptance and nestled into it. Sadia was right. Why couldn’t things be simple?
Her phone buzzed again, and she sighed. Oh right. That was why. “I’m on your side,” Sadia murmured. “I won’t let them browbeat you.”
Truly, middle daughters deserved hazard pay. “Okay. Let’s patch them in.”
Sadia saluted her, and three more windows popped up, full of all the women in Jia’s family, plus her dad, brow furrowed, leaning over her mother’s shoulder. Ayesha sat next to her mom.
Jia braced herself.
“Jia, what on earth . . . ?”
“You didn’t tell us?”
“So irresponsible—”
“Everyone calm down, let her—”
“We don’t know him.”
“You didn’t want an engagement party?”
“I had a new dress I wanted to wear.”
“I’m sure there’s a good explanation.”
“Jianna, this is too much,” her mother broke through. “The whole family is talking. And you don’t even answer our calls or our texts, so we have had to look foolish. What is this engagement? We have not even met him yet!”
“Now, now,” her father said, with far more calm, though Jia caught the thread of worry in his usually soothing voice. “I am sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for why the news is saying Jia and this Dixit boy are engaged.”
They all quieted and looked at her with varying degrees of worry and accusation. Jia took a deep breath. Out of sight of the camera, she let her fingers creep to that piece of fabric.
He could have been fooling her. He could claim tomorrow that he didn’t even know her. I wouldn’t mind it.
“Because we’ve been talking about becoming engaged,” she said calmly.
The call erupted again, and this time even her father spoke a little louder than usual. She raised her hand, and she was gratified that they all quickly quieted. “Look, I know this feels sudden, but as you can see, Dev and I have been talking for a while.”
“Talking. You’ve barely been in his presence for less than a month,” Noor pointed out.
“Right, well, it’s not a formal engagement. His people jumped the gun a little. He was planning on asking Mom and Daddy’s permission first.” Dev’s suggestion had been the wisest, she’d decided. She didn’t want her parents to hate her fake fiancé.
Real fiancé?
“What a gentleman,” Sadia broke in, rubbing her round belly. Jia wondered if the gesture was a subtle reminder to her parents about what was at stake if they did turn their backs on her.
“He is,” Jia said in a rush. “We have so much fun together. He’s a really kind person and good with his niece. He’s not stuck-up, and he’s very self-sufficient and down to earth for someone who is as famous as he is.” All true things.
And I want to kiss him.
She’d keep that one to herself.
“Speaking of famous,” Sadia interjected, “I’m surprised you’re mad, Mom. You cut me off when I married someone who had zero dollars to his name. Now that Jia’s with a rich guy, you’re mad about that, too?” Oh, Sadia was definitely reminding their parents of their past behavior.
Seeing as how her sister didn’t love confrontation, Jia was grateful beyond words.
Mohammad lowered his head. Their mother drew herself up. “We were wrong to do that, but our objection to Paul wasn’t that he wasn’t rich, it was that your life would be hard with him, and we didn’t want that for any of our girls. We don’t know this Dev enough to know whether he will be good to Jia. She barely knows him.”
Ayesha lifted an eyebrow. “People get married after knowing someone for far less time. I’m probably going to have an arranged marriage eventually. Mom, Daddy, you met and married in the same week. So why is this so different?”
Jia felt a rush of affection. Ayesha had every right to be concerned about this sudden news, given that she knew everything, but her twin was rolling with the shenanigans. “What Ayesha said.”
“Because our families knew each other,” her mother snapped back. “It is not at all the same thing.”
“I’m meeting his grandmother in a few days, so that’ll be taken care of,” Jia said.
Zara leaned forward. “His grandma’s coming there?”
“Yes.”
“Shweta Dixit is coming to America?” Noor clarified, then coughed.
Jia eyed her eldest sister with concern, but nodded.
“Then we’ll come there, too,” Farzana said crisply. “We can move up our trip. Mohammad, call the airline.”
What the . . . “Wait, wait, there’s no need to do that.”
“There’s every need.”
“We’ll all come,” Zara announced.
Oh no.
“Sadia and Noor cannot fly right now, and you must stay here to look after them,” Mohammad said firmly. There went the hope that her father would talk some sense into her mom.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Noor protested.
Oh no. “This is all unnecessary,” Jia tried weakly.
“It is not in the least unnecessary,” Farzana declared. “It is essential we meet his family before we agree to the match.”
“What if you call in and meet his grandmother that way?”
“That’s not how it’s done, for a child’s marriage. This is not a work meeting.”
If her video wasn’t on, Jia would bang her head against the headboard. Why had she even mentioned Dev’s grandma? They could have had a little more time to process this.
“Send us the details on when his family will be there,” Mohammad said. He had his phone in his hand and his glasses perched on his nose. “We can figure out the logistics then.”
Sadia resettled herself in her chair. “I think this is an overreaction.”
“I will not have another daughter run off and elope with someone.”
Sadia’s face went blank at their mother’s pointed reminder of her own rebellion, and a surge of sympathy ran through Jia. There was no need for her parents to slap at Sadia right now, when her sister was just trying to help her. “It’s fine, you can come here.” Jia forced a smile. “It’ll be so much fun.” So much fun, to introduce her family to a Bollywood legend who had probably read the passionate texts she had allegedly sent to her grandson. Only not that grandson, not really. The other grandson. Oh, and the third grandson, too.
So fun.
Farzana was already rising from her chair. “We have to pack. Remember, Jia, you’re a potentially engaged woman, not a wife. Behave accordingly.”
Jia couldn’t help herself. “What does that mean, Mom?”
“You know very well,” Farzana huffed.
The little devil that lived perpetually on Jia’s shoulder egged her on. “I don’t. What can a wife do that a fiancée can’t?”
“Jia, stop teasing your mother.” But there was a suppressed thread of laughter in her father’s directive.
“Fine. I promise, Mom, I will be as saintly as possible.” For me, she thought to hers
elf. Her parents and Ayesha left the call.
Noor and Zara gave her disappointed looks and disconnected as well. Sadia fiddled with the ends of her hair. It had grown quickly while she’d been pregnant, and now it hung down her back. “You okay?”
No, she was not. “Yup. What could possibly be wrong?”
Her older sister didn’t look convinced, but she nodded. “Call me if you need anything. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” Jia picked up the fabric ring and twisted it around her fingers. Should she send Dev the rings she’d bookmarked on her wish board, so he could buy her a real one? Would that be tacky?
Her brow furrowed. It was a problem if she didn’t even know if he would find that tacky, right? If she was going to marry him?
Be engaged to him. She didn’t have to marry him right away. She had plenty of time to figure out his tackiness boundaries.
You’re too much, you know that?
Jia launched herself off the bed, trying to shake her twin’s words out of her head, but it was impossible. How did normal regular people go through their lives without getting into weird situations? Seriously, how?
She stumbled downstairs, and just as she was about to ask Sienna where her roommates were, she caught a flash of color outside the big doors that led to the backyard. She flung them open and strode outside, coming to a halt when she saw who was in the comfy white chaise overlooking the ocean.
Aw, no. It was not her day.
Lakshmi glanced up, which made it impossible for Jia to slink back inside without detection. Rhiannon’s assistant was dressed in a flowing crimson caftan paired with black boots, and her hair was clipped up in an elaborate updo.
So damn cool. Jia shuffled her feet, feeling especially small and plain. “Hey. I was looking for Rhiannon and Katrina. Sorry, didn’t know you were here.”
“I’m not sure where Katrina is, but Rhiannon will be right out. We’re working on something.” Lakshmi closed the laptop. “I hear congratulations are in order. My grandma’s going to want an autograph from your new husband.”
Jia wasn’t sure who was more surprised by her bursting into tears, her or Lakshmi. But it was definitely Jia who was shocked when Lakshmi appeared by her side. “Hey,” the other woman said, and patted her twice, awkwardly, on the head. “Heterosexual marriage isn’t that bad. Or so I’ve heard.”
That only made her cry harder. Lakshmi patted her again, harder. “There, there. Please don’t cry. I’m not good with tears.”
“Stop hitting me,” Jia sobbed.
Lakshmi paused mid-swat. “Stop crying, then! I’m trying to comfort you.”
“You’re terrible at it.” Each word was punctuated by a gasp. It was like all the pent-up drama and worry and lies had come flooding out of her eyes at once.
Lakshmi gave a muttered curse and grabbed her by the arm to march Jia over to the chaise opposite the one she’d been sitting on. She shoved Jia down, and Jia was too worked up to protest being manhandled. “I bet you never cry,” she whispered. Lakshmi probably absorbed her own tears and used them for fuel.
“I cry sometimes.”
That startled Jia enough that she subsided to sniffles. “You do?”
Lakshmi grimaced. “No, I’m trying to make you feel better. But I do have emotions.” She handed Jia a napkin. “I’m guessing your love life isn’t as rosy as the media made it out to be?”
“No.” Jia blew her nose. “It’s not.” And then, because it seemed like everyone in this house might as well know, she ran through the highlights of her and Dev’s relationship, catfishing included.
“Hmm,” Lakshmi said, when she was done. “Interesting.”
“Interesting?”
“Yes. More interesting than I thought you could be. No offense, but you always struck me as kinda shiny and smooth and soft. No depth, you know?”
Jia clutched her snotty napkin. “How am I supposed to not be offended by that?”
“It’s not as if you like me much either,” Lakshmi said matter-of-factly.
“I didn’t dislike you! I pretended to not like you because I didn’t want you to think I cared that you didn’t like me!”
“Huh.” Lakshmi squinted. “Why did you care?”
“Everyone wants people to like them.”
“No, they don’t.” Realization dawned in the other woman’s dark eyes. “Oh, you’re one of those.”
“One of those what?”
“One of those kids who was raised with weaponized disappointment, so you’re super insecure and crave external validation and when you perceive the slightest rejection you convince yourself you’re a failure, all while pretending you’re a tough cookie who doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about you.”
Jia’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, shit.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh, shit.”
Lakshmi gave a sympathetic nod. “Yeah.”
“Oh, shit.”
Lakshmi handed Jia her coffee mug and Jia took a deep drink, coughing slightly. It was bitter but the black brew washed the uncharacteristic swears out of her mouth. “How did you know that?”
Lakshmi lifted her chin and draped her arm over her knee, her dress flowing around her. The silver studs on her boots gleamed in the sunlight. “I am good. Also, hello Kettle. I am the Pot. Or, former Pot.”
Jia let out a shaky breath. It was like Lakshmi had peered into her soul and ripped out her deepest secret. “How did you do it? Stop caring what people thought?”
“Oh, years of therapy. Here is the secret.” She leaned closer, and so did Jia. “I stopped.”
“Wow,” Jia deadpanned. “Amazing.”
“No, really.” Lakshmi lifted a shoulder. “I decided I had two options: I could be miserable and live my life as others wanted me to, or I could be happy and do what I wanted. Boiled down to that, the choice was easy.”
“But how do I stop?”
“Be confident. Twist what others tell you are your weaknesses into strengths. What did I call you? Soft? You’re kind.”
Jia played with the napkin. “Flighty.”
“A dreamer.”
“Frivolous.”
“Lighthearted.”
“Impulsive.”
“Good at thinking on your feet.”
Jia swallowed. “Too much.”
Lakshmi waved her hand. “That’s not an insult. Would you rather be too little?”
Jia sat back, the gears in her brain turning. It couldn’t be that easy. It wouldn’t be that easy. It would take, as Lakshmi noted, years to unpack all her anxiety about others’, especially her family’s, opinions.
Yet, this could be a way to start?
“Put aside everyone else’s feelings. Do you want to get engaged to this guy?”
“Yes.” She didn’t even hesitate, which made her chest swell. Yes. She could be confident about this, and she’d stick to it. No matter what anyone else thought about them.
She wasn’t lonely right now, as she’d been when Arjun had found her. She wanted Dev in her life, she didn’t need him in her life, and that made all the difference. They might have taken a twisty road, but she liked the destination.
Lakshmi opened her laptop. “Then I guess we need to do some preliminary research on Shweta Dixit and come up with a plan.”
“We?”
“Sure.” Lakshmi’s smile was the first genuine one the woman had given to her. “I owe it to you. I judged you too quick, and I try not to do that. We probably have more in common than we don’t.”
“I didn’t make it easy on you,” Jia said magnanimously.
“You definitely did not. But I’m usually better at seeing through a tough act. So. Plan?”
“I’m not good at sticking to plans.”
“No one is. Remember that thing about being quick at thinking on your feet? Let’s make a couple of general plans, and you can twist those as you see fit.”
Her brisk no-nonsense approach calmed Jia. “I should text Dev.”
&n
bsp; Lakshmi was already typing. “Go ahead.”
Told my family that we’re engaged. They’re coming in a few days to meet your grandma. The game is afoot, I repeat, the game is afoot.
Jia hit send and turned to her new friend. “Okay. Let’s make a plan.”
DEV ENTERED HIS apartment and dropped his keys on the table in the foyer. The noise of the metal hitting the wood punctuated the clatter of a pot in the kitchen. Dev followed the sound and winced when he found his uncle standing behind the stove. Every burner was on full blast, and the stove was on. The kitchen wasn’t small, but it was warm from the heat. Competing scents warred with one another, adding to the chaos.
Though he hadn’t lived with his uncle for long, Dev was quite aware that this cooking frenzy probably wasn’t a great sign.
Adil whirled around. “There you are. Young man, where have you been?”
Dev shifted from one foot to the other. He’d never had to deal with an elder catching him sneaking into the house, but he imagined it felt like this. “I told you, I got stuck a few hours east of here.”
“With your fiancée?” Adil Uncle drew himself up to his whole five feet and five inches and glared at Dev. “Imagine my surprise to find out you are engaged. You didn’t respond to my texts. I had no idea what to say to everyone calling me for information.”
Fuck. “I’m sorry, I had so many messages, I missed yours. I should have informed you what was going on.”
“What is going on, exactly, Dev? You told me you were simply meeting with her to atone for your brother and cousin’s behavior, as a friend.”
Dev rested his hands on the counter for support. “I know. Uncle, you must have seen the messages that were leaked. Those were the texts between Jia and Arjun. Chandu did the first thing he could to kill the gossip, and said we were engaged.”
Adil Uncle narrowed his gaze. “But . . . in that case, you could say your people made an error.”
“That’ll hurt Jia.”
His uncle waved the spatula he was holding. Something red spattered on the stove. “You can’t get married to save a reputation, Dev. This isn’t the twentieth century.”
“I’m getting married to her because I admire her greatly,” he said simply. “And I cannot imagine a better partner and coparent to Luna.”
Adil Uncle scrutinized Dev for a long moment, and slowly, he lowered his utensil. “You want this.”
