“Look at this,” Shilpa Sharma had said when she got a message about one of the never-marrieds. “He’s a real estate man, owns that big apartment complex out by where Mina mausi lives.”
Madhuri had been intrigued. “He must be loaded.”
“Yes, but he’s also older than your father,” their mother had said, waving her hand. “Why do these wrinkly old men think they can get the pretty girls?”
“Um, have you seen Nita’s husband?” Nayna had pointed out.
Their mother had shuddered. “He’s going to be dead before she has her first child.”
“I don’t think that’s in Nita’s plans.” Madhuri’s silky voice. “She’s waiting for him to pop off so she can live the high life with a stud.”
Laughing at the wickedness of Madhuri’s words, Shilpa Sharma had moved on to the next offer. “You should go for this Rohan boy instead. The electrician with his own company. Electricians make good money—we had to pay five hundred dollars that time we had the problem! And he’s young and fit.”
Madhuri, of course, was taking none of the offers seriously—and somehow getting away with it. Every time their parents began to push, she’d say she didn’t intend to be a two-time divorcée and planned to take her time choosing the right groom. “Don’t tell Ma and Dad,” she whispered now before turning her phone around so that Nayna could look at the photograph on it. “His name is Bailey.”
Bailey was a surfer dude, complete with a surfboard under his arm and beach-blond hair. His smile was toothpaste white, his skin like a baby’s bottom. “How old is he?” Nayna asked. “Five?”
Madhuri giggled. “Twenty-one,” she said. “I’m the sophisticated older woman who’s teaching him the ways of the world.”
Nayna’s lips twitched. She had to hand it to her sister—Madhuri knew how to live life. “I’m guessing this one isn’t long term?” she said, taking in the pretty cottage behind Bailey the Surfer. It had a name—inscribed on the plaque beside Bailey’s right shoulder: Seagrass.
Madhuri gave a liquid shrug. “Who knows? We’re having fun right now.” Shimmying around the kitchen, she added, “Lots and lots of fun.”
“When did you go to this cottage? It’s pretty.”
“Been there a couple of times now. Last was a month ago.”
Nayna happened to glance out the window as Madhuri went to reply to Bailey’s message, and caught sight of Aji and Mr. Hohepa sneaking off with Pixie as their tail-wagging third. No doubt for a “walk.” Turning back on a surge of inexplicable emotion that built inside her like a wave an inch away from breaking, she caught Madhuri’s expression. “Don’t look at Bailey’s messages around the folks. You have the sex face on.”
“I can’t help it. He makes me want to strip off my panties and do a pole dance.” Her phone beeped again before Nayna could respond.
Leaving her sister to answer it, Nayna walked outside—to see that Raj had already beaten her there. He must’ve gone out the front door and walked back around the side of the house—as if he’d left to grab something from his truck.
He glanced over when she exited the house, his dark gaze intent. When he raised an eyebrow in a silent question, Nayna wondered what her face betrayed. She shook her head, then carried on doing the small things that needed to be done to make sure this entire thing went off smoothly. It gave her a place for her hands, a way to settle the churning confusion that boiled within.
But she couldn’t shut out how well her parents were getting along with Raj’s. The four of them were laughing together with an ease that said they were becoming fast friends. And with each burst of laughter, Nayna felt the chains tighten even further. Everything was being put into place, all the pieces slotting in.
Her agreement was just a formality.
* * *
Raj could feel something was seriously wrong, but he couldn’t pin Nayna down long enough to figure out what. He was good at fixing things—but he couldn’t fix what he didn’t know was broken. He’d thought they were doing okay when she’d kissed him so passionately, but things had changed by the time he finally trapped her alone against the side of the house out of sight of their families. He couldn’t read her at all.
“Less than a minute to go,” he said, determined to get to the root of this, determined to fight for his Nayna.
Her fingers brushing over the smooth line of his jaw. “I miss the stubble.”
Rubbing his jaw against her palm, he said, “It’s growing already.”
No smile, her eyes haunted when they met his. “How long do we have?”
“Long enough to kiss at midnight.” Aditi was the official timekeeper, and he’d asked her to start the countdown two minutes late; his baby sister had been delighted to be part of the intrigue.
“If someone sets off fireworks at midnight,” she’d whispered, “I’ll say they’re jumping the gun.”
Bracing his body even more firmly into Nayna, holding her in the only way she’d let him, Raj said, “Why that look? Are you worried about our parents making plans?” He knew that was part of it, but not all. “I’ll handle that. No one will push you into anything until you’re ready.”
He’d made a mistake in declaring his hand; he’d thought it would ease the obstacles in their path, the two of them no longer watched so closely, but all it had done was scare her. “I’ll fix it,” he promised her. “Let me.”
No answer from Nayna.
Sliding her hand to the back of his neck, she rose on tiptoe. “Hurry,” she whispered. “According to my watch, it’s three seconds to midnight.”
Feeling as if she was water slipping out between his fingers, he kissed her with all the need in his heart, wrapping her in his arms and lifting her off her feet as the sky above them burst with fireworks set off by others in the street.
A new year had begun, but the shadows of the past haunted them both.
22
The Role of the Dastardly Villain Is Now Taken
Nayna expected to dream of Raj, her body ached so for him, even as confusion tangled her in a thousand knots. But when she did slip into sleep, she didn’t dream sexy, frustrating dreams about a certain hot man in construction. She dreamed of waking in darkness. Heart skittering and breath jagged, she began to walk with her hands outstretched, searching.
Her palms hit a wall.
She followed it, running now, only to hit an edge and another wall. Again and again.
Trapped. She was trapped in a box without light. And now the air was going.
Clutching at her chest, she continued to run, continued to search, but there was no way out and she was suffocating and she couldn’t breathe and—
Nayna jerked awake, her heart thumping a million miles an hour and her breath coming in harsh pants. She stared at the door she’d closed before she went to bed and her pulse spiked again. She barely stopped herself from getting up and wrenching it open.
That wouldn’t solve the problem.
Throat dry, she grabbed the bottle of water she kept on the bedside table and took a long gulp. Then she sat there and thought of that dark, airless room where she’d been trapped. Her skin grew taut and pinched as her breath began to turn shallow.
No, this wasn’t good.
Even the gorgeous photos that Raj kept sending her couldn’t help. Nayna’s memory of warmth and safety when he held her in his arms didn’t help. But she couldn’t say no when he asked her if she’d meet him at a café the day after the new year: My brother and sister-in-law would like to say hello. But Nayna, if you’re not comfortable, I’ll put them off.
Her throat got all tight, her eyes burning.
I’ll be there, she wrote back, because he was wonderful and siblings were different from parents.
She didn’t mention why she was going out when she left the house that afternoon, in no mood for the questions and speculation. When she arrived at the café, she found Raj waiting outside for her. He looked good enough to eat in those well-loved jeans he’d worn to the party, work boots, and a gray T-shirt that hugged his pecs.
He cupped her cheek with one hand when she reached him. “Thank you for coming.” Such serious words.