Chapter 30
COLE
Ilooked at the beautiful wedding card presented to me on a sunny morning at the beginning of May. The thick ivory paper felt smooth beneath my fingers as the gold lettering caught the light streaming through my office window.
Jaspreet Singh, a young server at the restaurant, had finally gotten the approval of his girlfriend’s father and was getting married on the weekend.
A few staff members from the restaurant were invited to the event.
Jiya, Jack, and Maureen, along with my brother’s family, were invited since Jaspreet’s fiancée worked in the company.
It felt like one of those celebrations where work and personal life blended, the kind where everyone showed up not just out of obligation but because they genuinely cared.
“Hey, doing anything important?” Jiya’s voice came over the phone.
I felt a smile tug at my lips.
Her casual calls telling me about the children, her day at work, and her occasional baking disasters…
those small, ordinary updates had become the best parts of my day.
I remembered how happy she had been when Emma started walking.
I had captured the evidence on my phone, proudly filming Emma’s wobbly little steps while Jiya laughed in the background, her joy filling the room.
“Not much. Got a proposal I’m working on, but it’s not urgent.”
“Great, then you’re coming with us.”
I leaned back in my chair, curiosity tugging at me. “Where to?”
“Shopping for Jaspreet’s wedding.”
“Okay. When will you get here?”
“Look outside your window.”
I walked toward the glass and glanced down.
Jiya waved with Geeta, Lucas, and Emma standing beside her.
My lips curved into a wider smile as I looked at them.
Lucas bounced on his feet with his usual restless energy while Emma clung to Jiya’s leg, her small face peeking around the fabric of Jiya’s dress.
The sight of them standing there waiting for me made my heart swell.
While walking from store to store, I saw sadness flicker across Jiya’s face. It appeared only for a second, but I knew her well enough now to recognize it.
“What’s wrong?” I asked when we walked out of the store after we finished shopping.
“What... what do you mean?” she fumbled.
“I was watching you stare off into space, and then you just shook your head. Did you forget something?”
“No... nothing. I didn’t forget anything. I wish I could forget what I remembered when trying on clothes.”
My chest tightened because I knew exactly what she meant.
I knew the memory she was trying to bury, and anger flickered through me again at the thought of the way her mother had treated her.
I remembered how shaken she had been that night, how small and vulnerable she had looked when I found her afterward.
I gently held her by her shoulders, my hands squeezing as though I could soothe the emotions she was trying so hard to hide.
Her eyes lifted to meet mine.
I leaned in, moving closer. “Jiya, what do you want to forget?”
Her proximity made the air between us grow thick. The soft whisper of her breath brushed against my collarbone as Emma shifted between us, and the subtle scent of her perfume drifted upward. Last week, when Jack had told me about us being the perfect union, I couldn’t get her out of my head.
“Mama!” Lucas yelled and bounced toward us with Geeta.
I cleared my throat and let go of Jiya.
“Is everything okay?” Lucas asked, looking at her and then at me.
“Yes,” she fumbled. “Everything is fine.” She caressed Emma’s head.
“Um... yeah... Cole was just wondering... um, how... we would all fit in the car... um, since Jack and Maureen wanted to ride with us.”
Silence crashed around us.
“Oh, that’s easy, Mama,” Lucas stated. “We could just rent a limo. That way, all of us can fit in.”
I laughed, and in my head, wondered how an eight-year-old had already developed such expensive problem-solving skills.
“A limo?” I repeated slowly.
Lucas nodded enthusiastically, clearly proud of himself.
“That’s actually… not the worst idea,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck as I thought it through. If Jack and Maureen joined us, plus Geeta, the kids, and Jiya… the car situation was already looking like a puzzle with too many pieces.
Jiya raised an eyebrow at me. “You’re encouraging him?”
“I’m just saying,” I shrugged, pretending to consider it seriously, “if we’re going to arrive at a wedding, we might as well arrive like celebrities.”
Lucas’s eyes widened. “See, Mama? Cole likes my idea!”
Jiya shook her head, trying to hide her smile. “I think you two are forgetting that limos cost money.”
Lucas crossed his arms thoughtfully. “Well… if Cole pays for it…”
“Hey,” I said quickly, holding up my hands. “Let’s not get carried away.”
Geeta laughed, and even Jiya couldn’t hold back a small chuckle.
After reaching the car a few minutes later, I watched Jiya carefully strap Emma into her seat and help Lucas buckle himself in.
She moved with that calm, practiced efficiency I had seen a hundred times before—checking the straps, smoothing Emma’s hair, reminding Lucas not to kick the seat in front of him.
Jiya closed the door, walked around the car, and slid into the driver’s seat. Before starting the engine, she glanced up and caught me watching.
I quickly straightened and gave her a small wave.
She shook her head with a faint smile, then started the car.
I stood beside my own car as the vehicle pulled away, watching until it disappeared.
Mental note: Book a limo for the wedding.
Jack and Maureen were already in Jiya’s house when I entered.
They both turned toward me as I stepped inside.
Jack looked surprisingly elegant in a deep maroon kurta embroidered with subtle gold threads along the collar and cuffs, with matching cream churidars. The whole outfit looked far more refined than anything I had ever seen him wear behind the restaurant bar.
Maureen stood beside him in a graceful pink salwar kameez.
I had read about Indian dress, etiquette, food, customs, and traditions after Jiya told me about her mother.
I wanted to be prepared in case the conversation ever fell into an awkward silence.
Unfortunately, I never had the chance to use that knowledge—until now, as I prepared to attend this Indian wedding with everyone.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Jack said with a grin.
“I’m right on time,” I replied, glancing at the clock on the wall.
“Fashionably late is still late,” Maureen teased.
“I had to make sure I looked presentable,” I said, gesturing down at myself.
Jack raised an eyebrow approvingly. “Not bad, Cole. Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Credit goes to Jiya,” I said.
She had picked a royal blue kurta with pearl white trousers for me at the store.
Before either of them could respond, Lucas came bouncing into the room and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Cole!” he shouted, shining in his gold kurta, the bright fabric making him look like a tiny prince ready for a royal celebration.
I laughed and wrapped an arm around him. “Well, look at you,” I said. “Someone’s dressed better than the rest of us.”
Lucas grinned proudly.
Jack folded his arms. “He gets that from his mother.”
The soft sound of footsteps drifted from the staircase.
Still hugging me, Lucas turned in my arms and looked over my shoulder.
“Mama, Cole, and you match,” he said brightly.
I turned to follow his gaze.
And that’s when I saw her.
My breath caught in my throat.
Jiya wore a navy-blue saree that caught the light with every movement, the sequins shimmering softly. Her smoky eyes and nude lips drew my attention instantly, while the kundan earrings and bangles added just enough sparkle to make it impossible not to look at her.
She looked absolutely ravishing.
I forgot Jack, Maureen, and Lucas were standing there because I had been staring at her.
She walked up to me.
“You look very handsome,” Jiya said, breaking the silence.
My mouth went dry, and I struggled to find the right words.
“Ditto,” I finally managed, then winced at how inadequate it sounded compared to what I was actually thinking.
Lucas held Jack’s hand and walked out the door. Geeta followed behind them, looking lovely in her emerald-gold Anarkali, holding Emma, who looked adorable in her pink choli and green skirt.
Jiya grabbed her gold clutch and took one last look around the kitchen.
Then she turned and bumped straight into me.
I caught her instinctively, my hands gripping her arms before she could lose her balance.
The world paused.
Her body felt cool beneath my touch, the smooth fabric of her saree brushing against my hands, but heat rushed through me instantly.
My pulse spiked in a way I wasn’t prepared for. She swallowed, and I watched the subtle movement of her throat as if my mind had forgotten how to look away.
When she lifted her eyes to mine, it wasn’t just a glance.
A tingling sensation crept up the back of my neck and spread across my face. My breath hitched as if time had stumbled for a second, and I became aware of how close we were standing.
“Come on, you guys!” Jack’s roar from the car broke the moment.
The sound snapped me back to reality.
I let go of her quickly and stepped back. Clearing my throat, I hurried out of the house, hoping no one noticed the flush creeping across my face.
We entered the limo.
My heart throbbed steadily in my chest as Jiya sat across from me. The distance between us was barely a few feet, yet it somehow felt both too close and not close enough at the same time.
I tried not to look in her direction, focusing instead on Lucas’s excited chatter about riding in a “fancy car” and Jack’s amused commentary about how this had all been Lucas’s expensive idea.
But no matter how hard I tried to concentrate on the conversation around me, my eyes kept drifting back to her.
Every time the limo turned a corner, the sequins caught the light and sparkled like tiny stars across the deep navy fabric. She adjusted the edge of the saree over her shoulder, and the delicate movement sent another ripple through my chest.
I looked away again quickly, pretending to be deeply interested in whatever Jack was saying.
But a moment later, my gaze betrayed me once more.
I shifted slightly in my seat.
This was going to be a very long ride.
The hotel ballroom was decorated extravagantly.
Gold and red dominated the room, with tall shining candelabras placed as centrepieces on round tables, surrounded by gorgeous flower bouquets.
A stage stood in the centre serving as the dance floor, while the head table had four pillars decorated with flowers.
With all of us sitting at one table, I tried to keep myself busy by talking to Jack and Maureen.
But it was of no use.
My eyes wandered until I found her.
Jiya was speaking to the bride and groom and the restaurant staff who had attended the wedding.
“What’s going on with you?” Jack asked me.
Taken aback, I answered, “Nothing... nothing’s going on. Why?”
“Why do you keep looking at Jiya? Both of you came out of her house looking uncomfortable. Did something happen?”
“No, nothing happened.” I swallowed. “We just bumped into each other, that’s all.” I shifted in my chair. “I’m going out for some fresh air.”
I walked out through the convention hall doors.
The cool breeze brushed against my face, carrying with it the distant sound of traffic and the faint scent of night air.
My thoughts tangled into restless circles, refusing to still, no matter how deeply I inhaled.
I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled slowly, staring out into the dark parking lot for a moment before turning back toward the entrance.
When I returned to the ballroom, the music wrapped around me again.
Laughter echoed across the room, glasses clinked, and the scent of rich food and flowers floated in the air.
That was when I saw Jiya dancing with Geeta, who was enthusiastically showing her some Indian dance moves near the edge of the dance floor.
I chuckled as she laughed at herself, clearly struggling to follow along. Her movements were a little unsure, a little hesitant, but the joy on her face made the whole thing look effortless.
I wanted to see her smile and laugh like that always.
Then the memory of the night her mother had come by flashed through my mind.
My veins pulsed with anger.
I could still picture it vividly—the way she had been sitting on the floor, trying to hold herself together, her eyes red and filled with pain.
Seeing her hurt like that lit a fire inside me—a raw, protective anger that refused to let anyone hurt her again. All I had wanted to do was hold her, comfort her, and take away the pain someone else had caused her.
I had made her a promise that night.
And I intended to keep it.
Watching her now made me realize again how strong she truly was. Despite everything she had been through, she still found ways to laugh, to show up for people, to keep moving forward. There was a resilience in her that I admired more than I could put into words.
A slow Hindi song began playing through the speakers.
The rhythm softened the room, the lively chatter around us fading slightly as couples began drifting toward the dance floor.
I walked toward her and held out my hand.
She raised her eyebrows slightly, clearly surprised.
“What do you think?” I asked.
Her eyes searched mine, as if trying to decide whether I was serious or teasing her.
Without saying a word, Jiya placed her hand in mine and walked toward the dance floor.
Her hand felt warm and surprisingly light in my palm.
We swayed to the music, and my heart fluttered like music had found its way into my chest.
Her fingers tightened slightly around mine.
I told myself it was just a dance, just a moment, but I realized I did not want the song to end.