A Model Fiancé

by Kaye, Nikky

  I needed to be with Dev.

  I wanted him to take me in his arms.

  Whatever would happen—good or bad—I wanted it to happen with him beside me.

  For the rest of the flight I leaned forward as though I could make the plane move faster. News flash: I couldn’t. A snowstorm delayed our landing in Newark, but I wasn’t planning to make my connection. I had another plan, but first I had to go through Customs and retrieve my bag.

  “Come on, come on…” Watching the suitcases go by on the carousel was making me dizzy enough to close my eyes briefly. When I opened them, I spotted my pack disappearing around a corner and I ran to grab it.

  As I pushed past a middle-aged man, he grumbled, “You know it comes around again, right?”

  Not every opportunity comes around again, I wanted to say to him as I hefted my bag off the overlapping metal slats. Some are once in a lifetime.

  It seemed like the more I hurried, the more the rest of the world slowed down. Everything was in my way. Strollers, luggage carts, security lines. Finally, I got up to Departures and made a beeline for the Priority check-in desk.

  “I want to change my itinerary.” I slapped down my boarding passes and identification.

  The woman behind the counter took in my red face and reached for my passport. “Okay,” she said. “Where are you coming from?”

  I half-laughed, half-sighed. “Everywhere. London. Frankfurt. Dubai. Delhi. Hell.”

  “You must be tired.”

  “You have no idea.”

  She smiled as she typed on her terminal. “What change did you want to make?”

  “I want to go back.”

  “To hell?”

  “Yes, to hell.” I leaned forward. “The man I love is there.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You’re in love with the devil?”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  “Amen, sister.” She punched in some stuff, looked at my passport again, and frowned. “Um, which part of hell would be your new final destination?”

  “Delhi.”

  “Hmmm.” More typing. Her gaze kept shifting from me to her monitor, then back again. “One moment.” Then she picked up the phone.

  Obviously, it would be harder to get back than it was to leave. After answering a few more questions, I knelt down to reorganize my carry-on bag. It took another few minutes before she spread some papers on the counter for me.

  “Now, here are your new boarding passes. You’ve got a different route going back.”

  “Naturally.”

  She grinned. “But your next flight doesn’t leave for another seven hours.”

  “Great,” I said bleakly, wondering if it would be against airline policy for me to slam my head against the check-in counter.

  “Don’t tell anybody,” she said in a low voice as she slid another piece of paper over the counter, “but here’s a complimentary lounge pass. Why don’t you go get a shower, something to eat, maybe a glass of wine?”

  Tears came to my eyes again. “That would be amazing. Thank you so much.”

  An hour later, I’d gone through security again and was refreshed by a quick shower and a plate of random snacks. I was down to one layer of clothes now, having trashed my base layer t-shirt and leggings. The idea of putting my jeans and other shirt back on felt yucky, so I luxuriated in just my jersey skirt and a strategically buttoned cardigan.

  Nobody needed to know that I wasn’t wearing any panties.

  As I sank into a cushy leather chair and stretched my arms in front of me, my ring sparkled in the halogen lights. I turned my hand one way then the other, mesmerized by the sight.

  I knew what it meant now.

  It meant love.

  It meant commitment.

  It meant I should have stayed and tried talking to Dev.

  It meant that when I should have trusted him; I didn’t.

  I failed.

  I bailed.

  Hopefully, I still had the chance to make things right. With a deep breath, I texted him: —I’m sorry. I’m coming back. I love you.

  There was no response. Ten minutes went by, then fifteen. Why wasn’t he texting back?

  With my knees pulled up I curled my whole body into the leather armchair. Mentally I calculated the time difference between here and India and realized that he was probably fast asleep. It was both a relief and a frustration, but there was no reason I couldn’t keep it together until my flight left or he replied, whichever came first. It just meant… waiting… and dozing off with my phone still clutched in my hand. I had no idea how long I’d been asleep when the vibration against my palm jerked me awake.

  —Where are you?

  It took mea few seconds to register where I was and what I was reading. Finally! My heart skipped a beat as I typed. —Lounge in Newark. On my way! Back to deliberately

  I waited.

  —???

  What? I looked at my response again and frowned. ‘Deliberately’? Goddamn autocorrect. —Delhi I amended. —Back to you.

  —Don’t bother.

  His answer hit me like a sledgehammer to the stomach. Ohno oh no oh no. What did that mean? Was I too late?

  I unfurled my body, my feet dropping to the ground, as I frantically tried to figure out what to text back. No way was I giving up on us, but what should I say to make him understand that?

  “Audrey.”

  I stared at my phone, my hands trembling. He sent me a voice message?

  “Audrey.”

  Slowly, I raised my head and saw the legs before me. Saw the strong, tanned hand holding a phone. My lips parted.

  “Please look at me,” Dev said.

  Almost in slow motion, my gaze swung up to take in the dark scruff on his jaw and circles under his eyes. I was hallucinating, right? I’d slipped in that tiny shower and hit my head and—

  “Audrey?” Dev’s forehead creased, and he looked uneasy. Then he stepped closer and squatted before me. When he touched my knee I startled.

  “Oh my god, you’re here.”

  “I’m here.”

  Maybe this was our romantic movie moment—the one I’d fantasize about while lying in bed at night. Then I looked at him, really looked at him. “You look like shit,” I said.

  He laughed. “Thanks, Captain Obvious,” he mimicked me drily. “You look beautiful.”

  I looked at my phone then at the unsure expression on his face. “How did you…?” My brain was moving at a slower pace than my heart.

  Dev shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I just needed to find you. Needed to tell you—” He broke off, shifting to his knees before me. “Everything will be okay, Audrey. I love you.”

  It was exactly what I wanted to hear, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he meant it. A sob caught in my throat and I dropped my phone down the side of the chair. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left.”

  He grabbed my hands, lacing our fingers together and pressing his lips to my knuckles. “It’s my fault. I don’t know what I did, exactly, but it’s probably my fault. Don’t leave me, please.” His grip on me was tight, but I squeezed right back.

  “I’m not. I mean, I did, but now I’m coming back. Except you’re not there.” Was I still supposed to get on the plane? I was a little confused, still. “Why didn’t you text me back before?”

  His lips curved. “I was too busy chasing you halfway around the world.” He looked around as though suddenly realizing just how far he’d come—or maybe checking for cameras.

  I stole a glance around the lounge, myself. There were several people who looked uncomfortable with the effort of not watching us. Most people were pointedly ignoring us or just plain ignorant, except for one teenager with her phone up. I went rigid when I saw her.

  “What is it?” Dev asked, following my gaze. “Oh. Wait here.”

  He patted me on the thighs before loping over to the wide-eyed girl. I couldn’t hear what he said to her, but she looked over at me with a panic-stricken expression. When I shrugg
ed at her, she flushed pink and showed Dev her phone. I couldn’t help the vengeful little smile that curved my mouth, but at least I looked away to give her some privacy.

  I’d just excavated my phone from the seat cushion when Dev came back. “I traded her a selfie for her pictures of us. I watched her delete them and her posts.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. The social media stuff had been tough to get used to, but I had to deal with it.

  “No, it’s not. We are entitled to a private life.”

  My eyebrow lifted. “Says the man who just ambushed me in an airport lounge.”

  “Yeah, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. Then his tired smile faded as he sank down to his knees again in front of me. “How are you feeling?”

  “Huh?”

  He took his hands in mine again, his gaze flitting from my eyes to my belly. “Are you, uh, okay?”

  Oh. I see. Was that why he came after me? “I’m not pregnant,” I told him dully as I tried to tug my hands free, but he wouldn’t let go.

  He bent over and pressed his forehead into my knees. His shoulders hunched up by his ears as he took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh. I rolled my eyes in irritation, trying again unsuccessfully to disentangle our hands.

  “Jesus, what a drama queen,” I muttered. “I guess I’d better make sure that rumor is debunked on Twitter, huh?”

  At my forced laugh, he looked back up at me with the strangest expression on his face. It was disappointment. Relief? Sadness. Resignation.

  “Oh, Audrey.”

  Before I knew what had happened, he’d pulled me from the chair and into his arms on the ground. We sat on the floor of the airport lounge together, my face buried in his chest and his arms wrapped around me. I didn’t even know I was crying until his shirt got wet.

  “Shhh. It’s okay, baby. It’ll happen.”

  “But you—you didn’t—”

  He shook his head, his mouth moving over my hair. “Of all the shitty things I could have said and done… I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “So am I.”

  With a gentle push on my shoulders, he moved me back so he could look in my eyes. “It would have been okay.”

  “What about Hessa? I don’t want to be the reason you lose that kind of one-in-a-million kind of opportunity.”

  “Audrey, you are my one in a million. You will always come first.”

  Could I believe him? I wanted to, so badly.

  He leant forward, his lips barely brushing against mine. “Please tell me it’s not too late. Don’t give up on me. I love you and I would—will love having a baby with you.”

  It was a good thing we were already on the floor. “Yeah?”

  “Oh yeah,” he said in a hoarse voice, his eyes darkening. “Someday?”

  I nodded, still taken aback.

  “I want to marry you. I want to see you—g-growing with our child.” His voice broke as though cracked by fear I’d say no to him—as if I ever could.

  “I wish I could give you that.” Maybe I still couldn’t.

  “Me too. But even if we can’t… there are options. I need you to know that you’re enough. Audrey, you’re everything. We can cross that bridge when we get to it but please, let’s cross it together.”

  With each word he spoke and each breath he took, he stole mine from me. Silently, he fiddled with the ring on my hand as easily as he’d twisted my heart around his little finger.

  “You really know how to pick your moments,” I finally said.

  “I told you before, there’s no good time or place to love you. It just happens,” he said with a grin that made it hard to stay mad at him—even if I wanted to. “I’m powerless against it.”

  “You make it sound like loving me is an act of God or something.”

  “It is.” His expression turned serious again. “Do you love me?”

  “You know I do.” Or did he? There was relief in his smile. “Dev, I love you. I always have. I love you more than I love myself, maybe—”

  “Which is a problem,” he interrupted, “but we’ll work on that. In the meantime, I love you enough for both of us. Believe me.”

  “Okay.”

  “I can teach you how to love yourself as much as I do. Wait,” Dev said when I snorted, “I don’t mean that I love myself like that, I—”

  Giggling, I put my hand over his mouth. “Stop while you’re ahead, pretty boy.”

  His lips pursed against my palm and his eyes twinkled at me. Gently he circled my wrist with his fingers and pulled my hand down. “If you’re mine, then I’ll always be ahead.”

  Then he kissed me, sweetly enough it would have impressed my much-missed parents and thoroughly enough to remind me I wasn’t currently wearing any underwear.

  “I love you.” I said softly.

  “I love you. Why are we whispering?”

  “I don’t know.” It wasn’t a secret, but it was just… ours.

  After a blissful moment, I tore my gaze away from his long enough to look around again. My carry-on bag. The Departures screen. The wine fridge. The nosy teenager still trying to mind her own business.

  “Um, what happens now? Are we going back to India?”

  He frowned, shaking his head. “No. Can you change your itinerary?”

  “Probably?” I’d already done it once.

  A devious smile spread over his face, crinkling his eyes as he bit his lower lip with his straight, white teeth. Yep, he was smizing at me.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  “I do.”

  “Great,” he said as he pulled me to my feet, “you already know your line.”

  31

  Dev

  “I want to get married, like right now.”

  Brett laughed at me as we got in the elevator. “Where have I heard that before? What did you say to me, huh? Something about not being able to keep it in my pants for two more days?”

  “I can totally—”

  “Wait,” he said with a scowl. “I don’t even want to think about you and your pants and my sister. Or my sister’s pants.”

  Cue the fake retching noises.

  “It could be worse,” I reminded him as the elevator doors opened and we began walking through the noisy, smoky casino floor. “Audrey could be marrying some complete stranger or even that other jackass.”

  “Say no more.” My old friend put up his hand. “You are definitely the least worst option.”

  “Wow. I think I just found my new profile caption.”

  He gave me the finger.

  I strode ahead, eager to get to the garden. Eager to get to where Audrey and Shannon were waiting for us.

  Newark to Las Vegas was an easy flight. Convincing Brett and his wife I was serious was a little harder. The storm that had hit the East Coast was moving toward the Midwest, and flights out of Chicago and Minneapolis were being grounded. So it was that Audrey and I had a full thirty-two hours alone before they arrived.

  Even though it had barely been two weeks since she left, she was so happy to see them that it made me tear up a little. It was also possible that my eyes were still watering from the punch that Brett had landed on my straight, photogenic nose.

  “Fuck you, you fucking fuck!” he screamed at me, before Shannon pulled him off me.

  “Are you out of your mind?” Audrey screeched as she flew to my side. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “It’s okay,” I said, wincing. “He’s entitled.”

  “The hell he is. Shit, you’re bleeding.”

  So I was. “Do you have a tissue?”

  “This is going to look awesome on Instagram.” Shannon rolled her eyes. “We’re still at the airport.”

  “Yeah, see if I ever come get you in a limo again,” I said. “No ‘thank you,’ no ‘congratulations.’”

  “A limo does not make up for hurting my baby sister!” Brett yelled, but the effect was lost by the fact that he was stomping straight for said vehicle at the time.r />
  “Don’t worry about him,” Shannon said over her shoulder as she followed him.

  Audrey handed me a tissue from her purse as I waved at the alarmed-looking driver.

  “Eberyding’s fide!” I called out with the tissue stuck up my nose. “If he fucked up my face,” I muttered to my fiancée, “I’m going to sue him.”

  That was yesterday.

  You’d think with a day’s head start on them we’d be more prepared but… uh… we didn’t exactly do a lot of shopping while we were waiting. In fact, if Brett knew what I’d been doing to his baby sister the night before he’d have kneed me in the junk as well.

  Now we were all cool—mostly. Brett had decided to play Father of the Bride in this scenario, and my Best Man, but that was fair.

  “I wish my parents were here,” he said as he caught up to me at the doors to the garden.

  “So they could hit me, too?”

  “Nah, they loved you. They’d be thrilled about this, seriously. Just like your parents. I haven’t seen your mother cry like that since graduation.”

  “She cried because she didn’t think you’d make it, man,” I laughed. “How you got into law school, I’ll never know.”

  Brett huffed a little. My parents were happy about Audrey, but that was probably because Brett promised not to tell my mom about my hurting his sister and the resulting drama. I was way more afraid of my mom than of him. Thank god they hadn’t come on the same flight from home, or my parents would have witnessed Brett’s assault—or joined in.

  As it was, I’d had to promise my parents a proper wedding at home at a later date. I was okay with that. I’d marry Audrey over and over and over if I could. Maybe I would, just to see how it would play on social media.

  Just kidding.

  I was doing everything I can to replace #MrsDevSharpe with #mraudrey as a trend, with the help of Dierks and Tanya—and, incidentally, Mr. Sharma.

  Sharma had become one of Audrey’s biggest fans and paid a generous fee for license rights to all her photos of his daughter’s wedding. For Audrey’s sake, he told me, Hessa kept my contract. I’d like to think my honesty and integrity—which was debatable—had gained his respect.