Chapter 13
NAUDI
I love my family. I always have. Even when my father cast me out, I still loved him. It’s good to see them again. As soon as I’d caught sight of my parents at the airport, it was like no time had passed. They’re older but still the same.
I don’t know the next time I will see them. Or even if I will. Once Walker and I break things off, after my sister marries, will they want to see me again?
All of that to say, I have been counting the days until they go home and my life goes back to normal. Their flight leaves tomorrow. Only hours away. Oddly, though, my normal life doesn’t sound as good as it used to. And that’s because of the man beside me.
Since it’s Sunday, the men have a light workload of chores.
Ma and Arya slept in until almost noon. My father didn’t come downstairs until ten.
I’d gone to bed after one in the morning but couldn’t sleep past seven.
I tried, but I’ve been an early riser for so long, it just sticks.
Maybe if I’d had a handsome hunk of a beekeeper in my bed, I would have been a slug-a-bug too.
Who am I kidding? There would have been no sleeping. I hope.
Walker and I took my family down to the beach. He set up a tent, blankets, and chairs. He even had a small wooden sailboat he took my dad out on.
Now we’re seated at the dinner table full of food. My mother insisted on cooking, though Tom had done his best to assist, which meant the kitchen had turned into a carefully controlled storm of spices, instructions, and quiet negotiations over who got to use the stove and oven for what.
All day long, the engagement party has been the popular topic of conversation. My mother has been glowing all day, accepting compliments as though she had personally orchestrated every detail of my life leading up to that moment.
My father has remained mostly quiet, though he isn’t wearing that same hard expression he always has.
He’d even gone out to do some chores with Tom earlier.
Arya is all but floating, replaying every moment like it was something out of a movie.
Especially that kiss Walker and I shared on the dance floor.
Here I am, sitting at the table, smack dab in the center of a life I no longer recognize.
Walker sits beside me, close enough that our arms brush when we reach for the same dish. I can feel the steady heat of him beside me, and I am painfully aware of every second we don’t touch.
He’s been quiet through dinner, listening more than speaking, answering when spoken to, offering polite responses when my mother asks him questions.
He handles it well, better than most would have, but he’s not himself.
Something is bothering him. How could it not be?
My family invaded his home and his life.
“Naudi, will you be returning to work next week?” Ma asks.
I tune back into the conversation that’s been going on around me. “Yes. I need to get back. I have a few projects that need attention.”
Arya grins and adds, “I can’t wait to show my friends back home the things I got at your store. You really must hurry with your online site so we can continue to shop.”
“And change the name of the store. A Little Naudi sounds too suggestive. You are turning away buyers because they think it is “that” type of store.”
Ma gets the bristles on my back at full mast, but I only nod. Correcting her, or telling her that the name attracts customers curious to see what’s inside would be useless.
Walker reaches for my hand beneath the table, and I find comfort in his touch.
“I kinda like the name,” Tom speaks up. “For a women’s underwear store, I think it’s perfect.”
Bless Tom for trying, but it’s wasted effort. My eyes are fixed to my plate as my mother lists all the things wrong with the name and offering her suggestions.
They are leaving tomorrow.
That’s what I have on the inspiration board in my mind.
Silence falls, and I have a premonition of doom.
My mother sets her fork down and reaches to her side to pick up something. “While we are all here, it only makes sense to go forward with our plans.”
My fingers around Walker’s squeeze tighter. He shifts in his seat and his gaze meets mine. I hope he sees how sorry I am for what is about to happen.
He turns stiffly to my mother. “Plans?”
Ma focuses her attention on him. “With the wedding, of course.”
Arya’s face lights up immediately. “Yes!” She leans forward, excitement spilling into her voice. “We should definitely start planning.”
“Most certainly, we should,” my mother agrees. “These things take time, especially when done properly.”
I set my fork down carefully. “This doesn’t need to be decided tonight. And when we are ready, Walker and I will let you know.”
My mother doesn’t even spare me a glance.
“It absolutely does need to be decided now. Venues must be reserved well in advance, especially for something of this scale. The ballrooms in Jaipur are booked months, sometimes years ahead of time. We are already behind. I shudder to think about having to accept second best. Or worse.”
Walker’s head tilts slightly. “Ballrooms?”
Ma smiles at him as though she’s sharing something exciting rather than overwhelming.
“Yes. There will be multiple events. The engagement ceremony was only the beginning. There is the Mehendi, the Sangeet, the Haldi, and then the wedding itself. Each one requires preparation, coordination, and commitment. An Indian wedding is not a one-day affair. It can last weeks with celebrations and events every day.”
“And that’s just your Indian wedding,” Arya adds, clearly enjoying herself. “You’ll also have your western ceremony here. So, really, it’s like two weddings with all the fixings.”
“Two?” Walker repeats.
“Yes, which is why we must begin now.” My mother moves her plate out of the way. She makes a big show out of opening her planner and flipping through the calendar pages with quiet purpose.
“Ma, I really don’t think?—”
“I’ve been considering a timeline,” she says as she rips a sticky note from the pad she keeps in the back sleeve of the planner. “If we begin preparations immediately, we could have the western ceremony within six months, the traditional wedding shortly after.”
“Six months?” Walker echoes, dazed. I know how he feels.
Ma starts going over dates and alternate dates.
Talking through seasons, availability, guest travel, family expectations, traditions that need to be honored, steps that must be followed to the letter.
My head is spinning by the time she finally says, “And, of course, there are responsibilities you will need to understand, Walker. I suggest we set you up with a tutor.”
I knew this. Expected it even, if this were a real wedding. But putting this kind, gentle man through this is getting to me.
“The Baraat, for example,” she continues.
“You will arrive in procession, traditionally on an elephant. I’m not sure we can schedule one this late.
It may have to be by horseback. There will be music, dancing, celebration, and your role is to lead and represent your family, to embrace the union being created. ”
Walker nods without saying one negative thing. And it gets worse.
“And during the ceremony itself, there are vows, rituals, and expectations. The Saptapadi, the seven steps, are particularly important. Each one represents a promise you will make to my daughter.”
“Do all men go through this?” Tom asks. “I mean… here, we just stand up in front of a preacher and say I do.”
“If you want this marriage to be recognized by our culture, yes. It is the way and has been done so for hundreds of years. If it is a question of expenses…” she lets that insinuation mellow.
I can’t do this anymore.
Walker glances at me with just a quick look, but it is enough for me to see he’s floundering. Uncertain and trying to save the day for me by keeping quiet. That is what breaks me. He’s doing all of this for me.
I drop his hand and push my chair back, scraping along the wood floor louder than I’d intended.
Every head turns and stares at me. I stand there, hands braced on the table as my pulse drums loudly in my ears, my chest so tight I have to force a breath.
My thoughts finally push past the point of control.
“Stop.” The word comes out sharp and loud.
My mother rears back like I slapped her and blinks in surprise. “Naudi?—”
“No,” I cut her off, shaking my head and taking a step away from the table. “No. this all stops now.”
Confusion ripples through the room.
“Naudi,” Walker begins, but I stop him with a sad smile.
“Please, Walker, you’ve done enough. I need to make this right.”
Our eyes connect for scarcely longer than a heartbeat, but many messages are passed back and forth. His settles on understanding, and I know he has my back if needed. I look at my dad and then my ma and sister.
“We are not setting a date,” I’m surprised at how steady my voice is when everything inside of me shakes. “We are not planning a wedding because none of this”—I gesture between me and Walker—“is real.”
“What do you mean?” Arya asks, her voice small, fragile in a way I hadn’t heard since we were children. I never want to crush her dreams, but at what expense? Not Walker.
The lump in my throat threatens to choke me. There’s no going back now. I look over at Walker and he gives me a nod of support.
“This engagement,” I say, forcing the words out before I lose my nerve, “isn’t real.”
My mother’s expression changes. Not slowly or gradually, but all at once. “That is not funny,” she snaps.
“It’s not a joke.”
“You had an engagement party. All those people…”
“I know what I did.” My voice cracks despite my effort to hold it together. “I know exactly what I did, and I’m telling you it was all a lie.”
Arya shakes her head, already standing with tears filling her eyes. “No. I heard Walker tell the nurse he was your fiancé.”
“You did. That misunderstanding is what started this whole mess.” The truth comes faster now, raw and unfiltered.
“I didn’t want to disappoint you, Arya. I should have corrected your impression, and then you told Ma and Papa and that started a snowball rolling I couldn’t stop.
This was all supposed to be temporary, just while you were here, so Arya can get married. ”
“Temporary?” my mother repeats, sharp and cutting.
I turn to face her full on. “Yes.”
“You made a mockery of us.”
There’s the issue in a nutshell.
Not anger. Not understanding for what I’ve gone through, but their pride. Their humiliation.
“You made a mockery of our family, our traditions, our name…”
“You lied,” Arya whimpers, tears spilling now, her voice breaking. “You lied to all of us.”
“I did. I should have corrected you, but I didn’t.”
“Now I have to let my love go.” She shakes her head slowly. “I’ll be an old spinster like you. I will never marry.”
“Your sister is not an old spinster. She allowed a harmless lie to make it acceptable for you to marry,” Walker points out in my defense.
I give him a hopeless smile. Nothing is going to make this right. Not for them. Not for me.
“I…I hate you. You have ruined my life!” Arya delivers that announcement, runs from the room, and stomps up the stairs.
My father hasn’t spoken. Not once. Until now. “Just as before, you are a disappointment to this family.”
That’s all he says. It hits hard. Memories of that day so long ago flood my head. Just like before, it hurts deep and final.
As he walks from the room, his back straight and rigid, a tear slips from my eye and trickles down my cheek. I brush it away with the back of my hand.
My mother rises slowly, gathering her things with silent efficiency, movements that say more than shouting ever could.
“I am disappointed in you,” she says quietly. That’s worse than if she had raised her voice.
“We will be leaving in the morning. It would probably be best if we don’t see you again.”
“Ma…”
“No, Naudi. I permitted your grandmother to go against your father’s wishes and give you money that allowed you to follow your dreams. You are going to have to be happy with that. I’m afraid you’ve lost your family for good this time. I don’t see how we can come back from this.”
She doesn’t wait for a response. Without looking back, she follows the path my father took as he left. For the second time, my family is lost to me.
I’d just gotten them back a few days ago, losing them this quickly shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Another tear slides down my face.
Behind me, I hear a chair squeak and when I look over, Tom is standing. “Sweetheart, I know they are your parents, but they’re wrong. I would be incredibly proud to have you for a daughter or daughter-in-law.”
I smile at him as best I can through the tears. He pats me on the shoulder and takes his leave.
I turn to Walker, and then I’m in his arms. I’m not sure how it happened, but I’m thankful that it did. I can’t hold the tears back, and I’m a girl that never cries. His arms wrap around me, and I nestle deeper.
I have no clue how this is going to turn out, but in this very moment, in Walker’s arms, I can breathe. That’s enough for now.