Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
VIREN
F uck my life!
What was I thinking?
To be honest, the sight of that dress had rendered me incapable of critical thinking. I had a lovely, lonely evening planned, and I had blown it all because of that bloody dress.
Sunaina was an adult. She had the right to wear whatever she liked. But the thought of other men looking at her in that dress and seeing what I saw…the sheer perfection of her curves that could make a grown man weep…the smooth bare skin that simply begged to be stroked, kissed and licked…made me want to punch a hole in the wall. For her own safety, I wanted to wrap her in layers of cloth and keep her home. Unfortunately for me, we lived in the twenty-first century, and Sunaiana was my fake wife. I had no right to tell her what to wear or where to go. It wasn’t even my job to protect her. But for some strange reason that I refused to analyse, I made it my job.
And what was the thanks I got for it? My lovely wife glared at me all the way to Alexandra Palace and jumped out of the car before it even came to a complete halt. I should have allowed her to stomp all the way to the top of the hill in those teetering heels that made her legs look even sexier, but I couldn’t help following her like a puppy. Luckily for her, I was right on hand to catch her when she tripped. Again, instead of thanking me, she shrugged my hands off coldly and ignored me all the way to the top.
Between Sunaina’s chilly treatment and Tahira clinging to me no matter how much I tried to push her away, I was done with this blasted evening already. But those teenagers behind us began horsing around and jostled her, and I couldn’t help myself. I wrapped my arms around her to keep her safe, and my world blew apart.
Sunaina fit into my arms as if she was made just for me. When she relaxed into my embrace, my arms tightened around her reflexively, and I prayed she couldn’t feel my hardness against her tightly curved ass. I could do this, I told myself. I could hold my wife in a purely platonic way and not lose my head. But then, she turned her head and looked at me. I gazed into her big, brown eyes, and the rest of the world went silent. The sound of the crowd cheering, the fireworks, the loud music all disappeared, and all I could see, hear and feel was Sunaina.
“Thank you,” she said softly, and my gaze zeroed in on her plump, red lips.
She tilted her head upwards ever so slightly, and there was no way I could resist the invitation. I nuzzled the side of her jaw before I bent my head to kiss her. And then Tahira ruined it all.
Her piercing voice shattered the little bubble that closed us off from the world. Sunaina drew back in horror and whipped her head around to face the front. I was furious with Tahira and was about to snap at her when I felt Sunaina’s fingers digging into my forearms. I couldn’t tell if she was upset with Tahira for interrupting us or if she was upset about the near kiss. She tried to pull away from me, and I felt like a monster for taking advantage of her. There was no place for stolen kisses in our fake marriage and she was right to be upset. I should have let her go, but the idiots behind us were even more drunk after a couple of beers. I didn’t want them to jostle her again.
So I tightened my arms around her to hold her in place, and somehow, my fingers found hers. We stood like that for the rest of the fireworks display, with our fingers intertwined, and it was pure torture. It gave me a glimpse of what it would be like if this marriage was real. I could hold Sunaina like this for the rest of our lives.
Then reality struck, and my throat closed in fear when I remembered that the rest of our lives could be very short. Forever was not as permanent as it sounded. I should know. I had lost everyone I had ever loved. Maybe I was cursed. Maybe it was fate. Maybe I deserved it. But I wasn’t going to risk losing anyone else in my life ever again.
There was no place for love in my life. I’d be a fool to leave myself so vulnerable again. If I allowed myself to fall in love with Sunaina and she was taken from me, I didn’t know if I’d ever recover. And it wasn’t just me. Aisha, who knew the terms of our marriage, was beginning to treat Sunaina like a mother. She had already been through hell once. I wasn’t going to put her through that again. The sooner we ended this farce, the better it would be for all of us. Sunaina would go on her way, and Aisha and I would get on with our lives.
But it wasn’t so easy. Sunaina might be my fake wife, but she was a real part of my family. When had that happened, I wondered. When did she become so essential to the functioning of the Chaudhry household?
Daima was perfectly capable of looking after all of us. She had done it for years. And yet, without me realising it, the reins of my household were somehow firmly in Sunaina’s hands. She had become the centre of our lives.
When Aisha came home from school, she first called out for Aunty Sue, and Sunaina was always waiting to greet her. Always. No matter what plans she had during the day, she made sure she was back before Aisha got home from school. Sufi and Daima deferred to her in all matters of the household, from what to stock in the pantry to what flowers to arrange around the house. She entertained our guests as if she were born and bred to our lifestyle.
Somehow, she had my best friends, Sarang and Neil, eating out of her hand. She had even made friends with Diya, Isha and Shivina, three of the most intimidating royals in our circle. Those three women trusted nobody, and yet they trusted Sunaina and loved her enough to drag her to brunch every week.
Friday movie nights had been an institution in our house since Aisha came to live with me, but now, they were all hers. The rest of us would spend hours squabbling over what movie to watch, but she always knew exactly which one we’d all like. She made sure we didn’t run out of our favourite snacks, whether it was baked ragi chips for me, Aisha’s favourite candy, or even the awful matcha-flavoured crap that Sufi liked and especially Daima’s favourite ghee-fried mathri from the mathri-waali galli in Old Delhi that we all liked to steal. The den had Sunaina written all over it, from the colourful sequinned cushions that poked me in the ass to the soft, fluffy throws that softened the harsh masculinity of the room.
How the hell were we going to do movie nights without her? I clenched my jaw and blew out a breath as I realised that I had fucked this arrangement up spectacularly. This was all on me. Instead of keeping the boundaries of our fake relationship clear, I had allowed the lines to blur. And now we were all going to pay the price.
Still, it wasn’t too late to correct my mistake. Starting now.
I was going to make it clear to everyone, including Sunaina, that our relationship was strictly business. Nothing more.
When the fireworks display ended with a flourish, the crowds began to move towards the exit, and I pulled my arms off Sunaina sharply. She turned to me in surprise, but I avoided her eyes and reached for Aisha’s hand.
“Come on, sweetie. It’s time to get you home. Sufi and Sunaina have plans for the night,” I said, leading her towards the exit.