Chapter 10 Nicolas
nicolas
We’re a team. Words that kept echoing in my mind, because like it or not, we were in this together. I was still holding her hand as she rang the doorbell to her parent’s house, enjoying that neither one of us had broken that connection.
The ring I’d spent so much time deliberating on looked perfect on her finger. I’d probably gone overboard with the three carats, but it complimented her perfectly.
My entire life, I’d always assumed I would propose with my mother’s ring.
It was classic and elegant, but I didn’t know what Zo would think if I’d given her my family’s heirloom ring.
It felt too real for a relationship that was formed on a piece of paper in my office, so I’d stuck with one from the jeweler.
It was the right choice. She was meant to wear that ring.
“Still time to back out,” Zofia whispered to me as we waited for the door to open.
I shook my head. “Never,” I promised her, squeezing her hand—and not letting it go. It was getting harder to keep my hands off Zofia. Especially after I’d gone out and bought her a ring. “You’re stuck with me now, my dear fiancée.”
She shook her head, slipping the ring off and tucking in her pocket. “You’re going to wear that word out if you use it so much.”
“Can’t wear it out when you won’t be my fiancée for very long.”
The door opened, and I recognized Zofia’s parents from the photo on her desk.
She was the spitting image of her mom, though she was a few inches taller than her.
“Hi Amma,” she said, a forced smile on her face as she let go of my hand to hug her mom, and then her dad.
“Hi, Appa.” She turned to me. “This is my—” Zofia paused, like she didn’t know what word to use.
“—Nicolas.” I gave them a warm smile. “Nicolas, these are my parents, Sahana and Kadal Narayan.”
Her father was shorter than me, but his eyes swept over me like he was trying to decide if I was good enough for his little girl. Fair enough, I supposed. I definitely wouldn’t think anyone was good enough for my daughter, either.
“Hi, Kutti.” Her mom beamed at her before looking at me. “It’s very nice to finally meet you, Nicolas. We’ve heard so much about you.”
“Only good things, I hope,” I joked.
Zofia raised an eyebrow, and I crossed my arms over my chest.
She patted me on the stomach. “Of course… babe.”
“We didn’t even know you were dating until Zofia told me,” her mom said.
Zo looked over at me. “Well, when you spend so much time together, these things just happen. We both realized we had feelings for each other, and the rest is history.”
It was a condensed version, but it stuck to the truth as much as possible—which was good. Less chance of slipping up. “Your daughter is the best thing to ever happen to me, Mr. and Mrs. Narayan.”
I didn’t know what I’d do without her—that was the truth.
“No need for formality,” her mom said. “Please, call me Sahana. Kadal and I are just happy our Zofia is happy and letting us meet her boyfriend.”
Babe? I mouthed at her as we followed her parents to the living room. I liked it. More than I should.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “It just slipped out.”
I hummed, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her into me.
“Besides, what’s with you? Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?”
“We’re supposed to be in love,” I reminded her.
“Akka!” One of Zofia’s brothers wrapped her in a big hug, interrupting our conversation. “It’s good to see you.” All the worry seemed to melt off of her as she embraced her family, hugging her brothers and then her sisters-in-law before she introduced me to all of them.
Her oldest brother—Arjun—and his wife had two toddlers who were playing quietly on the carpet, while her younger brother, Kavin, who had gotten married recently, had his wife tucked into his side, who was sporting a small baby bump.
It was easy to see why her mom was eager for Zofia to settle down and get married, especially being surrounded by her family. I was an only child, and I had no idea how much pressure it must be to feel like you were competing with siblings on major life events.
Sometimes I wondered what it would be like if my mom hadn’t passed away when I was young. I knew they’d struggled to conceive again, and then she’d been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. But sometimes I couldn’t help but wonder what if?
Maybe if we hadn’t lost her, my dad wouldn’t have been such a workaholic.
Maybe he’d been a more attentive father.
Zofia’s family dynamic was completely different than mine.
Her parents were warm—and it was clear how much they all loved each other.
Even if her dad was a little quiet. Though she’d explained he was an engineer, and to expect that.
He loved his technology, and I wondered if that was why Zo had ended up working for the company after college
Her brothers and sisters-in-law all were warm and welcoming towards me. If I’d worried about what they’d think—if they’d accept me—I shouldn’t have.
After a few minutes of chitchatting, we all settled down at the dining room table.
Zofia’s mom had made a traditional Tamil dinner—sambar, her mom told me, which had a soup-like consistency and was made with lentils, vegetables, and spices, and served with rice.
There were also several side dishes, including kovakkai poriyal, which was stir fried tindora—a type of gourd.
“Everything looks great, Sahana. Thank you.” It smelled heavenly, and I was more than happy to dig in.
“So, Zofia, you said you had news?” Her mom asked after all our plates were filled.
“Oh.” She looked over at me. “I thought we’d wait until after dinner—”
“Nonsense.” Her mom waved her off. “You brought your new boyfriend, and we are all dying to know what you have to share.”
I cleared my throat, taking her hand in mine. “About that.”
Her dad was frowning at me, like he was worried I’d come to announce I’d knocked up their daughter. Thank fuck we’d used a condom in Napa. Kids were definitely not on the table.
Zo turned to me, eyes wide with panic. I took her hand in mine, kissing the back of it softly. “Zofia’s actually not my girlfriend. I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.”
She slipped her ring back on and held up her hand. “Surprise?”
It was deadly quiet as the whole family stared at us—until they seemed to realize that we were actually serious.
“My baby girl is getting married?” Her mother looked like she was going to cry as she stood up and came around the table to hug my fiancée.
“Yeah, Amma. I’m getting married.” She patted her mom’s back as she looked over at me, giving me a small smile.
“No wonder you didn’t want me to set you up with someone,” she said. “You could have told me you were in love. After Samir, I wasn’t sure it would ever happen again.”
I could practically feel Zofia’s wince.
Samir? Was that an ex of hers? She’d never mentioned her past relationships, especially not a man who she’d obviously been serious enough with that he’d met her family.
After her mom pulled away—returning to her seat—I squeezed her hand, keeping it in my lap. A reminder that we were in this together. A team.
Her older brother’s wife—Priya—lit up. “Well, you have to tell us the story, Nicolas! How did you propose?”
“Oh.” I looked at Zofia, wondering why I hadn’t expected this. “I was actually—”
“He was a perfect gentleman,” Zofia interrupted, looking at her ring. “We went out to dinner at my favorite restaurant downtown, and then he got to one knee and asked the question over dessert. Super romantic.”
It was a perfectly acceptable proposal story, and it was a damn shame it was a lie. But also, fake me could have done better.
She deserved better than some hastily written out contract.
“Yeah. They brought out a dessert that had ‘Will you marry me?’ written out on the top.” I leaned over and pressed my lips against her cheek. “I had it handled,” I murmured against her ear.
“Sorry,” she breathed. “I panicked.”
I gathered as much. It was strange, seeing her in this state. Normally, she was so calm and collected, but here, she seemed frazzled. “It’s okay.”
We pulled apart, and realized everyone was looking at us.
“I will have to start calling venues,” her mom said, changing the subject. “When do you want to get married? Do you have any thoughts on the time of year?”
“Um.” Zo looked at me. “We were actually thinking something small. Maybe just going down to the courthouse?”
The room was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.
“The courthouse?” Her mom repeated, aghast.
Zofia nodded. “Yes, we don’t need an entire production—”
“Nonsense.”
Everyone else around the table was silent as Zofia faced off against her mother. “Amma.”
“But you’re my only daughter. And your father and I want to give you away. What about all the traditions?”
“Appa can still give me away,” she insisted. “I know it’s not traditional, but maybe we can plan a bigger ceremony for a year or two after we’re legally married? That way, you have time to plan it, and we can both have what we want.”
She looked at me, and I nodded, backing her up. “Whatever Zo wants.” I understood her hesitation to have her mom plan a large, expensive wedding, especially with the contract we’d signed. Still, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d taken something away from her, intentionally or not.
“When are you planning on getting married?” Zofia’s father asked.
“Next month, sir,” I said.
“Next month?” Her younger brother’s eyes widened as Zofia took a drink from her glass. “What, Akka, are you pregnant?”
Zofia spat out her water. “No.” Her eyes widened. “No, of course not.”
“Then what’s the rush?” Her father said. “You could take the time to have a long engagement and get to know each other first.”
I put my hand over Zofia’s. “With all respect, I know you’re Zofia’s family and you want what’s best for her, but I do too. This isn’t an impulsive decision, not for either of us. I admire and respect your daughter, and I just want to make her happy.”
“Good answer.” Her father nodded. He turned to Zo’s mom. “I like him. Seems like a fine young man.”
After that, the interrogation seemed to slow, though I could still sense some lingering disappointment from Zofia’s mother and discomfort from Zofia.
It made sense, now, why she’d been so nervous in the car.
But the hardest part was over now, so hopefully that meant she could breathe a little easier.
“So… that wasn’t so bad,” I said after we were both buckled into the car.
Zofia fidgeted with the ring. “It could have gone better.”
“Sure, babe.” I flashed her a grin.
She groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Don’t remind me. I don’t know why I said that.”
“It’s cute, Gorgeous. You can call me babe if you want.”
Zo spread her fingers, peeking over at me. “I would like to forget that ever happened instead.”
I hummed. “Not happening.”
“At least my parents seemed to accept that we didn’t want the whole production for our wedding. At least, not right away. Hopefully I can put her off, and before anything happens we’ll…” She trailed off, and I knew what she meant.
“That’s really what you want?” I asked, turning to look at her. “I don’t want to rob you of an opportunity.”
“I love weddings,” Zofia admitted. “Angelina and Benjamin’s was beautiful, and I had such a great time. But I’ve never been the girl who sat around planning my own.” A shudder ran through her. “I don’t want all that attention on me. Especially not when we’re, well… pretending.”
“Understandable. But if you change your mind, you know I’m okay with it, right? I know your family—and culture—are important to you. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of any of that.”
“This is why you’re such a great guy.” She bit her lip. “Why are you single, anyway?”
I shrugged, because I didn’t know how to answer that. Not without giving away too much of myself. “Guess I was just waiting for the right woman.”
She scoffed. “Well, if you find her, let me know. I’ll be happy to bow out.”
Instead, I picked up her hand, kissing the ring on her finger. “No getting out now, Zo. You’re my fiancée.”
“Fake fiancée.”
“The wedding will be real. None of that will be a lie.”
“I know.” Her voice was quiet. “I’m still wrapping my hand around all of this.” She held up her hand with the ring on it. “This is crazy.”
“A little,” I agreed. “But it looks good on you.”
She looked down at her lap. “I won’t wear it around the office yet. Not until after we tell our friends.”
I hated that, but I understood. “I know. We’ll tell them soon, yeah?”
Driving into Zo’s apartment complex, pulling into a visitor parking spot.
She didn’t make a move to get out of the car.
She looked over at me, fidgeting with the skirt of her dress—the pretty pink making her skin practically glow.
I wanted to untie the straps, to kiss her bare skin like I had that night we spent together.
But she’d made it clear what she wanted out of this.
And I was respecting her boundaries.
Didn’t mean I couldn’t look, though. Her lips were stained a dark red color, and they looked perfectly kissable. Worse, because I knew just how soft they were.
Her eyes darted down to my lips, and her tongue darted out, moistening hers. “Nic—”
“Your mom mentioned something about a… Samir?” I asked, tilting my head at her.
She looked flushed. “Oh. You caught that, did you?”
“Yeah. Who was he to you?”
Zofia didn’t meet my eyes. “My fiancée.” Her voice was quiet. “I was going to tell you about him, really.”
“I believe you. You don’t still have feelings for him, right?”
Her laughter filled the car. “God, no. It’s embarrassing, really.
” She fiddled with the hem of her skirt.
“It was an arranged marriage—normal in our culture, you know? Our families were friends, and we fell in love quickly. At least… I thought we did. He moved in with me, and we were living together as we planned the wedding.”
She looked out the window. “Until I caught him fucking another woman in our bed. My bed.”
“That’s why I didn’t want to get married. Why I didn’t want my mom to set me up again. I can’t… I can’t go through that again.”
Oh, fuck. It was obvious I’d completely misread the situation.
“That’s why you reacted the way you did when I said we’d be faithful to each other.
Because he wasn’t faithful to you. I’m so sorry, gorgeous.
” Reaching over, I grabbed her hand, interlocking our fingers before kissing it.
“I promise I would never do that to you.” I couldn’t imagine having such a beautiful woman at your side and not being satisfied.
Not thinking she was enough, when she was…
everything. She deserved to be someone’s everything, and yet I was a selfish bastard for making her stuck with me.
She gave me a sad smile. “I know, Nicolas.”
It was all I could offer her—and yet, somehow, I knew it wasn’t enough.