Chapter Eighteen
Chapter
Eighteen
“It’s comforting to know that the ones you love are always in your heart. And if you’re very lucky, a plane ride away.”
—Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City
Harsha unzipped her blouse and shimmied out of the lehenga skirt, breathing hard as she recalled Deepika’s words, clearly audible in the small shop : I’ve never seen a man more whipped. Fake relationship, my ass.
So Veer had told her, and probably Raunak, too. Now it made sense why they’d been looking at Harsha all funny since she and Veer got back from Mumbai. They knew the truth.
And then there was the other thing Deepika said: You’re going to fall in love with her . Harsha tried to push down the hope that swelled in her chest. If Veer’s best friend, who knew him better than anyone else, thought he might have feelings for Harsha…
Then maybe he did? Maybe this wasn’t just in Harsha’s head. She cleared her throat, pressing her lips together to hold back her grin, then changed into her normal clothes and left the dressing room with the lehenga over one arm.
Anuja Auntie was waiting at the checkout counter. Harsha handed her a debit card and didn’t take her gaze off the cash machine until the transaction was approved. Then she let out a slow, soft breath and handed the shopping bag to Veer, butterflies thrumming in her stomach at the slight contact of their fingers. “Let’s go home. Deepika, thanks for everything.”
Deepika gave her a terse smile. After they said goodbye to Anuja Auntie, Veer put his arm around Harsha, guiding her back to his car. “Well, that worked out perfectly,” he said, grinning.
Harsha giggled, pressing her body into his shoulder. “It did,” she agreed, although all she wanted to do was ask him what he really thought about her. Did he, too, think he could fall for her?
They got into the car, and Veer drove back to her place, seemingly deep in thought. When the car slowed in traffic, he asked, “When’s Sasha getting here?”
“Tomorrow,” Harsha said as a grin came to her face automatically. “She just boarded her flight. It’s like, a twenty-plus-hour journey, and she’ll only be here for three days before she has to fly out for her friend’s wedding in Jaipur, but gosh, I can’t wait.”
Veer frowned, shooting her a quick look as the light turned green. “Wait, isn’t your sweet sixteenth photo shoot tomorrow too?”
He remembers, she thought, her heart fluttering. “I’ll have to rush from the airport to make it on time.”
“That sucks,” Veer said. He turned down the volume of the music, then added, “Will you have enough time to show her around the places I recommended?”
Veer had sent Harsha a longer itinerary than the one she’d come up with herself. CTR was, of course, on his list.
She laughed. “Yes, but we’ll be ordering in CTR instead of going there. No way am I braving that crowd without you around to guide me.” Harsha was hoping they would all be able to do something together, but Veer would only have a few hours to spare every day in between his packed shifts. Maybe it was for the best if Sasha didn’t spend too much time with Veer. She already wasn’t supportive of the fake relationship turning real.
Just like Deepika.
Harsha’s smile faded. Veer didn’t notice, though, because he said, “Is it weird that I’m both happy and sad that you get to see Sasha this week?”
“Why is that?”
Veer stared into the distance as he drove. “You’ll have some quality time with your best friend after so long, and that’s great. But I won’t get to hang out with you as much. I’ll…miss you.”
He turned to her, but Harsha averted her gaze to pretend-wipe some dust off her tank top. “I’ll miss you too,” she said, meaning it. In moments like this, when he showed her how much he valued their connection, it was so difficult not to ask him the question that had been bothering her for weeks now: What happens to us after Neha’s wedding?
Funnily enough, Harsha didn’t know what she wanted his answer to be. Because no matter what, it meant change. They couldn’t go back to how things were before, when Veer was just her barista; at the same time, no way could they continue living in the murky gray area of their current dynamic: not friendship, not love, but something dangerously in between.
And as for the possibility of starting something new—something real—what would that look like? Would they hide the origin of their relationship from the rest of the world forever?
What about the money she was paying him? Would that overshadow their future?
Biting her lip, she tugged on her hair elastic. Veer must have noticed, because he took her hand and pressed it to his chest. His heart was beating steadily, slowly. “You’re nervous about the wedding, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” It was easier to go along with this more obvious truth than the one hidden deep in the recesses of her mind. “We’re in the endgame now. What if we fuck it up?”
“We won’t.” He let go of her hand to continue driving, but he smiled. “Do you trust me?”
Harsha didn’t hesitate as she said, “More than anyone else.”
Smiling, Veer pulled up a playlist on Spotify, singing along to it loudly. Harsha joined him, belting out the lyrics to The Weeknd, as her heart continued to thud. As much as she knew both Sasha and Deepika had valid points, she couldn’t suppress her feelings for him for much longer.
It was all getting too real.
When he pulled up outside her gate, Harsha slid out of her seat belt. “Deepika’s mom’s designs were beautiful,” she said. “Thanks for taking me.”
“Of course,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
Before she could stop herself, she kissed him lightly on the cheek, took the shopping bag, and ran upstairs without another look back at him, her face burning red.
Sasha:
At baggage claim. See you in a bit!!!!
Harsha:
CANNOT WAIT!
Harsha bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting outside the arrival hall at Bangalore’s international airport terminal, a bouquet of lilies in hand—Sasha’s favorite flowers. They had gone four months without seeing each other in person, and now Sasha would finally be here, even if it was only for three days before her friends’ wedding.
Groups of foreigners trickled out from inside the airport, most of whom talked in typical SoCal accents. They were likely from Sasha’s LAX flight. Harsha craned her neck and tried to spot her best friend, pursing her lips. Sasha’s visit couldn’t have come at a better time. Especially since Harsha needed a distraction, not just from the anxiety of the looming wedding, but also from Veer’s Instagram post about lehenga shopping—the one she’d sworn she wouldn’t keep looking at.
A blond white woman raced out of the crowd toward a dark-skinned Indian man. He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her, seemingly unconcerned about the prying eyes of strangers. Harsha’s belly flip-flopped at that public display of love, her thoughts drifting to the way Veer had kissed her cheek at the boutique yesterday for that picture on Instagram. Okay, fine, she chided her stupid, traitorous mind. You win . She pulled out her phone and looked at the post again.
It really was such a cute photo, she decided, from her cherry-red mouth open in a soft, smiling gasp, to his crinkling brown eyes fixed on her. What wasn’t visible in the picture was Veer’s warm fingers grazing her bare back through the cut-out on the lehenga. She let out a shudder, going back to that moment. That touch had felt so intimate, so precious, and it wasn’t even for the cameras. It was just…for them.
Oh, she was in trouble.
Hurried footsteps approached. Harsha had barely looked up from her phone when Sasha tackled her with a hug, making her stumble back a few feet. They held each other, squealing and jumping for a whole minute before pulling apart.
Harsha handed her the flowers, grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. “I was going to bring garlands and a puja thali to welcome you to India, but I thought that was a little too cliché.”
Sasha pressed the flowers to her chest. A tear fell down her cheek. “I’ve missed you so much, H,” she whispered, brushing her straight black hair away from her eyes.
“Me too.” Harsha’s face crumpled. They hugged again, then booked an Uber to Harsha’s apartment. She had already crammed a mattress into the small gap between her single bed and her cupboard for Sasha to sleep on. Harsha had suggested Sasha book a hotel room so she would be more comfortable, but Sasha was adamantthat she didn’t care about moldy walls or sex-crazed upstairs neighbors as much as she cared about spending quality time with Harsha.
In the Uber, as Kannada songs played on the radio, Sasha looked out the window, squealing with excitement at the brightly colored mom-and-pop stores, the cows ambling about on the street, and the different kinds of vehicles in traffic. “This city is so alive!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide. “Like, there must be a hundred people on this street right now! Isn’t that cool?”
Harsha laughed, throwing her head back against the leather seat. “Mumbai is even more alive. It literally never sleeps. Bangalore goes dead silent after midnight.”
Sasha quirked a brow. “Well, what’s home to you now? Mumbai or Bangalo—”
“Bangalore,” Harsha affirmed without thinking twice. “It feels like where I belong.”
“Because of your photography biz taking off…?” Sasha said, more like a question than a statement.
Because of Veer, Harsha wanted to say. But Sasha was already suspicious of this whole fake relationship and its consequences, so all she did was nod. “Exactly.”
Sasha’s phone chirped. “My mobile data pack is working, finally!” She exhaled through her teeth as Instagram loaded. “The Wi-Fi on the airplane was so wonky. I need to catch up on—” She fell silent.
Harsha’s neck prickled with sweat. She didn’t have to look at Sasha’s phone to know which picture had made her speechless.
“That’s a cute photo of you and Veer,” Sasha said, her voice stiff. “Is that from yesterday’s lehenga shopping spree?”
“Yeah, isn’t the lehenga gorgeous?” Harsha said, hoping it would distract her. “And it was a steal, too, compared to the other store we went to.”
Sasha sighed as she set her phone aside. “H, why are you doing this?”
“You know why.” Harsha thumped her head against the leather seat. “My family—”
Sasha smacked her on the arm. “Bullshit! You and I both know that this is so much bigger than your family and what they think of you.”
“Oh, really?” Harsha rolled her eyes at her best friend and rubbed her biceps. Sasha was petite, but strong.
“You’re starting to fall for him, and you don’t want this to end. Isn’t that right?”
Harsha ran her finger along the car seat, gulping. “Maybe…?” When Sasha didn’t speak, she looked up to find her best friend smiling. “Wait, you’re happy?” Harsha exclaimed.
Sasha pressed a hand to her face, her eyes shining. “You were so defeated after your parents ghosted you at graduation…” She shrugged. “You deserve more joy than anyone I know. And I think Veer gives you that, doesn’t he?”
“He does,” Harsha said softly. “But S, there’s more.” At Sasha’s confused expression, Harsha explained what she overheard during their shopping trip.
Sasha gasped. “H, this is a green light! He has feelings for you too.”
“But Deepika had a point.” Harsha sighed as she rested her head against the seat. “Making this relationship real would complicate everything.”
“Like what?” Sasha rolled her eyes. “The money thing? He could pay you back!”
Harsha blinked back tears, yanking on her hair elastic. “Like my dad. If he finds out the truth, who knows what he would do? Besides, it’s technically his money, not mine—”
“You’ve been afraid of your family for far too long, H. Don’t give them that power again.”
“But—”
“I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time, and I’m sure his friends would say the same about him.” Sasha stared at the Instagram photo. “Promise me you’ll think about this.”
“Okay,” she replied softly, not knowing what else to say.
The rest of the Uber ride was devoid of conversation, but Harsha’s thoughts were louder than a torrential downpour. Even the upbeat Kannada music and the Uber driver’s constant honking weren’t distracting enough.
Sasha’s jet lag finally hit her by the time they wheeled her suitcase into the cramped bedroom. Harsha tucked her in, pulling the covers up to her neck and promising to be back from the birthday party as soon as possible. Sasha fell asleep within minutes. Harsha wore her camera around her neck and headed to MG Road.
While she stood in the metro, holding her breath in the sweaty train compartment, she texted Veer to let him know Sasha had arrived safely. Now on my way to the gig, she added. How’s work?
She didn’t expect him to reply right away. He hadn’t been online for hours—Sunstag’s anniversary sale was probably keeping him busy. They’d slashed the prices of their drinks to two hundred rupees for one day only, which was bound to draw in more customers than usual.
The train lurched to a stop at the next station. More people came in; the air was stifling despite the air-conditioning. Harsha pushed herself against the wall to keep from being squished by a student’s large backpack. Her phone buzzed.
Veer:
Sunstag is packed, I barely have time to breathe. Talk soon ok? Tell Sasha I say hi though
Harsha:
Yep, take care
She put the phone back and smiled. Despite his chaotic workday, he’d responded right away, his distant behavior long gone. Harsha envied the woman he would date after their fake relationship ended. If he was this attentive with her, she couldn’t imagine how much love he would shower upon someone he actually wanted to be with.
Guess I’ll never know, she thought glumly. Sasha might think it was worth giving a shot, but Harsha knew better. This wasn’t just a fake relationship like in all the movies—it was a paid contract. If any of the Godboles found out the truth…
No. Harsha wouldn’t ever let that happen.