“It’s important to you.” And he was becoming terrifyingly important to her.
A brush of his thumb over her cheekbone, his gaze potent and unreadable. “Navin and Komal have grabbed a table inside.” Pulling open the door of the café, he placed his other hand on her lower back as they walked to the counter and ordered before joining his brother and sister-in-law.
Navin Sen was more slender than his brother and had a bit more curl in his hair as well as a pristinely clipped goatee. His smile was wide when he extended his hand toward Nayna. “It’s nice to meet you at last.”
“Same,” Nayna said, with a smile aimed at both him and his wife.
Komal Sen was… glossy. That was the perfect word. Lovely round face, pouty lips painted to perfection, sleek and shiny hair expertly colored in shades of bronze and brown. Her red dress fit like a glove when she rose to her feet and gave Nayna an air-kiss, and she had Madhuri’s kind of curves.
She engaged with the men like Madhuri too, flirtatious with Raj without crossing the line—though from their body language, she seemed to be having a tiff with her husband. The giggles and admiring glances were all shot Raj’s way, the curled lip and snarky comments her husband’s. Komal’s behavior would’ve been off-putting to many women, but Nayna had grown up with Madhuri.
Compared to Nayna’s sister, Komal was a novice when it came to capturing male attention. Nayna found her familiar in a way, and that relaxed her. “How was the party?” she asked after their drinks came.
“Oh, fantastic!” Komal stirred sugar into her coffee. “I danced my feet off.”
A tension at the corners of Navin’s mouth that told Nayna his wife hadn’t been dancing with him. She shot Raj a quick glance, not about to touch that with a barge pole. He gave the slightest shake of his head.
Taking the cue, she ignored the mounting evidence of marital discord as they continued to talk. Raj had his arm along the back of her chair again, his fingers occasionally brushing her upper arm, and Nayna didn’t want to be anywhere else. For a short while, she felt only like a young woman out with her man, the two of them getting to know each other.
No expectations.
No burden of tradition.
No tacit road for them to walk.
“Excuse me for a minute.” Rising, Navin headed off toward the restrooms.
Raj’s phone went seconds later. “It’s a client,” he said after a glance. “I’ll try to make it quick.” A brush of his hand over her ponytail before he stepped outside to take the call.
“Nice to see Raj find someone.” Komal’s voice dragged her back.
Nayna told herself she was imagining the sudden razored edge in it. “He’s an amazing man.”
“Yeah, I chose the wrong brother.”
Ohh-kay, now they were in incendiary territory.
Nayna took a sip of her mocha, mentally telling both men to hurry up.
“But wow, pretty big sacrifice for you to give up your career after all that work,” Komal murmured after another sip of her latte.
Nayna frowned. “Excuse me?”
Tilting her head to the side, Komal blinked innocently. “Oh, didn’t Raj tell you?” Syrupy voice, but the nastiness was there in the tilt of her lips. “Navin says his brother’s always been open about wanting the full traditional deal. Wife at home cooking the rotis and looking after the kiddies, man working.”
Churning in Nayna’s gut. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” she said, not about to let this woman judge Raj; Nayna understood where his desires had been born, why that was his dream.
“Oh Lord, no,” Komal gushed. “If Navin earned enough to keep me at home, I’d jump at the chance to join the ladies-who-lunch set. Not sure about the kids though. Raj wants them while he’s young, and I prefer keeping my figure.”
Oh, thank God.
“I wonder if they sell this coffee by the bag?” Navin said, sliding back into his seat. “It’s pretty good.”
Raj returned a minute later, and the rest of the conversation was innocuous enough. However, by the end of it, when Nayna was alone with Raj again, she felt no compunction at all in saying, “Your sister-in-law is not a nice woman.” Bitch was the word that fit. Nayna never used that word lightly, but Komal had gone out of her way to discomfort her husband, and her digs at Nayna had been subtle but pointed.
Whatever her issue was, it didn’t excuse her behavior. The way she was going, she could stand in for the melodramatic “evil sister-in-law” on that soap opera. All she needed to do was stand around reciting her nefarious plans aloud while ominous music built to a crescendo in the background. And the irony of her name being Komal—which meant soft, delicate—was just the icing on the cake.
“No, Komal can be difficult.” Raj walked with her out of the café. “But she’s Navin’s wife, and my brother isn’t innocent in the problems between them—but those problems aren’t ours.” Wrapping one arm around her shoulder, he said, “Want to walk a little? There are a few construction projects going on around here. Competitors.”
Nayna slid her arm around his waist and decided to live in the dream. “Yes. Let’s go spy on them.”
The two of them had far too much fun over the next two hours, with Raj grumbling about how he could’ve done a better job on the various projects and Nayna playfully saying, “I know, honey” until he kissed her smiling mouth. He was scowling at her teasing, and his stubble prickled, and it was wonderful.
But she had to know if Komal had been telling the truth. The other woman had been attempting to stir trouble, no doubt about that. Which was why Nayna wasn’t about to make any assumptions until she had an answer direct from the source. “Raj, did you dream of a homemaker wife and lots of children?”
“I didn’t know you then,” he said simply. “Now when I think about my future, I see you.” A kiss that was rough and tender both, Raj’s arms coming around her. “What I wanted before no longer matters.”
But it did, Nayna thought as she drove home. Raj’s dreams mattered. Being abandoned, it had left wounds in his heart that even the love of his parents hadn’t fully healed. That cruel letter had reopened what had healed. Raj’s dream of a wife content to focus on their home, happy little children, and a husband who provided, it was both simple and profound.
Even more important—above all else, beyond the specifics—he needed absolute, unflinching commitment from the woman who was his. He needed to know she was in this all the way and for the long haul. And for him, that meant marriage. It meant tradition. It meant following the well-trodden path because that path led to community and roots and certainty.
There was nothing wrong with that.
But Nayna had no idea what she wanted from life. Him, she wanted him. But not the tradition that had begun to feel like ropes around her, cutting off her air. Not the implicit defined patterns of behavior. Not the rigidly limited choices. The very things that centered Raj were her worst nightmare.
Nayna had no right to put her dreams over his.
23
Everything’s Better with TEQUILA!!!
Nayna went in to work again on January third. She’d fibbed and told her family the firm needed her to handle an urgent client request, but she’d just been desperate to be out of the house. She’d come in to work part of yesterday evening too, her intent to keep her mind occupied with things other than Raj and the mess she was making of her life.
When she’d returned home, her sister had been sitting at the kitchen table chatting with their father, both of them laughing and smiling. Madhuri had been waxing lyrical about how her landlord had given her permission to paint a feature wall.
Nayna’s stomach tightened.