Raj was just about to turn on the rotating saw when his phone buzzed with an incoming message. Still in a good mood from Nayna’s “I miss you,” he pulled it out… and was damn glad he hadn’t turned on the saw or he might’ve sliced off a valuable body part.
Her lips were soft and luscious as she blew him a kiss, her barely buttoned shirt taunting him with the secrets hidden within while her shining black hair flirted with the darkness of her skin. Blowing out a long breath and happy no one was close enough to have picked up on his immediate physical reaction, he saved the image in a private folder.
Part of him was fighting a tinge of heat on his cheekbones at being so sensually teased by the woman he loved, but he wasn’t an idiot. If Nayna wanted to send him sexy selfies, he wasn’t going to tell her no. What he wrote back was: One more button.
Her response was: You can undo that one on your own. xx
Entire body hot with need, he slid away his phone. And told himself that a ring on her finger didn’t matter, not so long as she thought of herself as his. He had to get over that, or he’d wreck what they had between them.
When his parents cornered him that night and asked what was going on with Nayna, Raj said, “We’re together.”
His mother shared a speaking look with his father before putting a hand on his. “Raj, beta, you know we won’t force you into anything, but you’ve always wanted to get married, set up a family, have children.” Worry in every word. “Will this kind of a relationship make you happy?”
“It’s Nayna,” Raj said simply. “She makes me happy.”
His parents didn’t appear convinced, but they let it go, and the conversation drifted to Madhuri Sharma’s wedding, to which Raj’s entire family had been invited. Komal wandered in partway through, dressed in scrubs for a night shift.
After drinking half a cup of tea and listening to the conversation, she said, “You know Madhuri has a history?” An arch tone. “The Sharmas tried to bury it, but I have a friend who—”
“Komal.” Raj’s father spoke before Raj gave in to his temper. “Madhuri is Nayna’s sister, and Nayna is with Raj. The Sharmas are like family. We don’t talk about them behind their backs.”
Komal’s face hardened. Putting down her mug, she said, “Sure” and left.
Raj narrowed his eyes, not trusting her instant capitulation. He’d have to watch her, make sure she didn’t try to foment trouble for Madhuri in the lead-up to her wedding. “Where’s Navin?” he asked his parents.
His mother winced. “Out again.”
“It’s his fault she’s like this,” Jitesh Sen muttered. “This is what happens when you neglect your wife.”
“She was never exactly sunshine,” Aditi said, having obviously overheard the last comment as she walked into the kitchen. “But Navin bhaiya isn’t helping.” She hugged Raj from behind. “Ma, are there any cookies left? I’m legit starving.”
“Show me your leg again,” their mother demanded. “It’s definitely hollow.”
Aditi laughed and banged at her leg with a hand while making echoing sounds.
As his family moved around him, conversation ebbing and flowing, Raj felt a true hollow inside him. Nayna might never be a part of such conversations, might never sit around a table of an evening with his parents and sister—and possibly Navin and Komal, if the two didn’t implode.
That too was a truth he had to accept.
* * *
Things came to a head with Navin and Komal the next night, when they had a screaming fight just after Raj pulled into the drive. Aditi waved at him frantically from the front door, and he headed her way instead of back to his flat.
“What’s wrong?” he began, then heard the yelling and screaming.
“You’re such a mama’s boy!” Komal cried. “Anytime anything happens, you run to your ma! No fucking spine!”
“At least she cares about me instead of being a coldhearted bitch!”
“Go to my place,” Raj told Aditi.
His baby sister didn’t argue. She just grabbed the spare key to his place from the kitchen drawer, picked up her phone and her math textbook, and hauled ass. Raj, meanwhile, took the stairs up to Komal and Navin two at a time. He found his parents already there, his mother looking shell-shocked and his father pale.
“You bastard!” a sobbing Komal cried. “You slept with that whore!”
“I’m not the one who’s cheating!” cried a Navin with scratches on his face. “And even if I was, who’d blame me with such a bitch for a—”
“Shut up, both of you!” Raj’s voice cut through the caustic mix of rage and pain in the air. “Ma, Dad, why don’t you go for a walk?”
When his parents accepted his suggestion in silence, Raj realized exactly how shaken they were. “This is enough,” he said quietly to his brother and sister-in-law after the three of them were alone. “I don’t care what the problem is between the two of you. You do not do this in front of our parents and Aditi.”
Navin flushed and Komal wouldn’t meet Raj’s eyes.
“In fact,” he added, “I think you two need to think about finding your own place. Clearly living here isn’t working for you.” Not if Komal was accusing Navin of being a mama’s boy when Sangeeta Sen made a point of staying out of the married couple’s problems.
Komal looked up, glanced at Navin. “I’m okay with moving out,” she said, and her tone was relatively calm.
“Why don’t you move in with your boyfriend?” Navin said before twisting on his heel and slamming his way down the stairs.
Tears shimmered in Komal’s eyes, and when his sister-in-law started crying, Raj could do nothing but hold her. She sobbed against him for a long time before he pulled away.
“I should’ve married you,” she whispered, her eyes red and swollen.
Shrugging away the statement—given Komal’s emotional meltdown, she couldn’t know what she was saying—Raj nonetheless took another step back. “Do you want me to call your sister?” Komal had stayed with her sibling on more than one occasion when she and Navin had a tiff.
She rubbed off her tears. “No. I have a night shift. Navin will be gone by the time I get home, so I have time to think about what I want.” Turning, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Navin and I aren’t suited, were never really suited. But we thought we could make it work. You should think about that.”
The bullet hit home, but Raj kept his face expressionless as he turned to leave.
“Raj?” Komal’s voice halted him, her next words sharp. “Love marriage or arranged marriage, the commitment has to come from both sides.”
Raj left without listening any further. Komal could stir trouble elsewhere. Raj had made his decision and he’d see it through.
He was halfway down the path to his flat when his phone rang with an unfamiliar number. “This is Raj,” he answered, figuring it might be a client who hadn’t previously called him.
“Raj beta,” said an elderly female voice. “It’s Nayna’s aji. Mr. Hohepa fell on our walk. Can you come drive him home?”
And that was how Raj found himself playing wingman to a dapper sixty-seven-year-old. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?” he asked Tawhiri Hohepa after successfully getting him inside his home and all set up in bed.
“No, no. It’s just a turned ankle. Old rugby injury—a good night’s rest and I’ll be back up and around.” He winced. “Sure wish Heera hadn’t seen me fall though.”
Nayna’s grandmother bustled in then, a mug in hand. “Your favorite herbal tea,” she said with a smile. “Let me tuck you in.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Raj got himself out of the room and hoped Nayna’s aji couldn’t tell he was blushing. She came out only minutes later, gave him one look, and laughed. “You young people. Where do you think you came from, huh?”
“I arrived by stork,” Raj said seriously. “My brother and sister by magic.”
Tucking an arm through his, Nayna’s aji patted at his arm. “You’re a good boy to come. I didn’t want to call Nayna out so late, and she wouldn’t have been strong enough anyway.” She beamed up at him. “It’s a smart thing I memorized your number from Nayna’s phone.”