Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
SUNAINA
W hat just happened?
One minute, Viren and I were watching the fireworks with our fingers intertwined, and the next minute, he drew his arms away as if I had the plague. I had just started thinking maybe there was hope. That maybe he was attracted to me if nothing more. But the sight of his stony profile as he pointedly avoided my gaze told me otherwise.
He hustled us into the car, and I tried not to let Tahira’s smug smile affect me, but it pinched. As did the fact that my husband went back to pretending I was just a member of his staff. After I just spent a magical hour with his arms around me. Was he made of stone? Or was I a complete fool? Maybe both.
I pretended not to see Sufi’s commiserating glance because I was tired of being the object of pity in the Chaudhry household. Everyone felt sorry for me, the unwanted wife. And while I had Sufi, Daya Bua and Aisha rooting for us, Viren wanted nothing to do with the idea of us. I didn’t blame him. Well, not completely.
He was very clear about what he expected from this marriage. It wasn’t his fault I had the misfortune to fall in love with my temporary husband. I didn’t know when it began. Maybe it started when he rescued me from being sold into marriage to a cop twice my age. Or maybe it started when he faced down my nasty stepmother, who turned up at his doorstep with said cop and tried to bully me into going home with her. Or maybe it was triggered by his immense capacity for love.
This was a man who loved his cousin’s daughter like his own child, who loved his nanny like his own mother, and who had treated his secretary like a brother. He had welcomed me into his circle without ever making me feel cheap. His aunt had a lot of unflattering opinions about me because I didn’t belong to their social circle, but Viren made sure she never found out about our agreement because, in our society, nothing labelled a woman as a whore and a gold digger quite as much as the fact that she was a fake wife. His aunt might disapprove of me, but she was forced to treat me with the respect due to Viren Chaudhry’s wife.
Viren treated me like a queen because I was helping him secure Aisha’s future and safety. He treated me like his real wife in every way except the one that mattered. He gave me his friendship but nothing else. And yet, before I knew what was happening, I was head over heels in love with him. Of course, it didn’t help that he was six feet tall and built like a tank, with a hard, chiselled face and sharp, piercing brown eyes that seemed to look into my very soul.
Since I moved into Chaudhry House, I had spent many a sleepless night tortured by the idea of what could be. But the only time Viren came into my room was when I’d had a bad bout of viral fever. I was thrashing around in bed, unable to sleep because of the high temperature, and Viren spent all night in the big armchair next to my bed. He bathed my forehead with cold cloths sprinkled with eau de cologne and held my hand when I became too restless. At one point, I thought he climbed into bed with me and held me down until I fell asleep in his arms. But that must have been a fever-induced dream because when I opened my eyes the next morning, he was fast asleep in the armchair, looking like a fallen angel sent to tempt me into sin. If I hadn’t been so sick, I would have climbed onto his lap and woken him up with a kiss. Alas, I was too weak to even raise my head and look at him properly.
Which was a good thing because clearly, I was prone to making stupid decisions while I was sick. Even if I did manage to climb onto Viren’s lap, odds were that he’d open his eyes and push me away in horror immediately. Because in all the time that I’d known him, he had never shown any signs of wanting me on his lap or any other part of his delicious body.
Until tonight.
Tonight, for the first time, I felt like his wife. Like we were about to turn the page on our fake relationship. Like he wanted me as much as I wanted him. Until he pushed me away. Until he showed me my place.
I followed Sufi blindly towards the exit, taking short, shallow breaths, trying not to let my tears fall. I was damned if I shed any more tears over a man who didn’t want me. I got jostled in the crowd and crashed into the man walking in front of me. I apologised to him hastily and gripped Sufi’s hand tightly to avoid any more accidents, but the man I bumped into turned to stare at me.
“Sunaiana? Sunaina Chauhan?” he yelped.
I looked up in surprise.
“I’m sorry…,” I began unsurely.
“It’s Dhruv Mehta from Saraswati Vidyamandir. I was your bench partner in tenth grade,” he said.
“No! That’s impossible! Dhruv Mehta was short and skinny,” I said, shaking my head.
“Not anymore,” he replied with a grin.
Fuck me! I remembered that grin! Nothing else about the tall, well-built man standing in front of me was familiar except that grin. Dhruv and I had been best friends and partners in crime in the tenth grade.
“Ohmigod! Dhruv! You fell off the face of the earth after tenth grade,” I exclaimed as I threw my arms around him.
He returned the hug warmly before he turned to Sufi. I linked arms with both of them and introduced them as the crowd swept us inexorably towards the exit.
“Sufi, this rat bastard is my best friend from high school, who abandoned me as soon as he was done copying my answer sheets for the board exams.”
Dhruv laughed and shook his head.
“Oh, please! I was so tired of you stealing my answer sheets that I begged my Dad to move to the other side of the world.”
“Seriously, though. Where did you disappear?” I asked. “I tried calling you after the exams, but your landline was disconnected. And your neighbour told me you guys had moved away.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you we were moving, Sue. My Dad got into trouble with the local mafia around the time of our board exams, and he forced us to return to our hometown in Surat practically overnight. I was cut off from all my friends to make sure the goons couldn’t trace us. But I’m glad I finally got to meet you after so many years,” he replied as we reached the place where our golf carts were parked.
“Are you here with your family?” I asked, looking beyond him.
“No, I’m here for a conference,” he said.
“What do you do for a living, Dhruv?” asked Sufi like the nosy queen that he was.
“I’m a neurologist.”
“Ooh, very fancy,” said Sufi approvingly. “Married?”
“Determinedly single,” replied Dhruv, with a laugh.
“So what are your plans for tonight? Care to join us? Sunaina and I are off to Annabel’s.”
“Yes! You should come with us, Dhruv,” I said. “It would be lovely to catch up…”
My words trailed away as I felt a sudden menacing presence at my back. Dhruv looked beyond me and then shot me a quizzical glance. I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore Viren, who was scowling at Dhruv.
“Mr C, you must meet Sunaina’s childhood friend,” said the Narad Muni of my life, with an evil grin.
Dhruv put out a hand and Viren took it unwillingly.
“Hi, I’m Dhruv. And you are?”
“Sunaina’s husband,” replied Viren coldly. “Viren Chaudhry.”
Dhruv’s smile dimmed a little.
“I didn’t know you were married, Sue. But the best ones always are,” he said ruefully.
“Dhruv is a doctor! And he’s coming with us to Annabel’s,” said Sufi pointedly.
Viren stiffened at the news, but he gave Dhruv a polite smile, which left Sufi visibly disappointed.
“Enjoy your evening. I need to take Aisha and Tahira home if you don’t mind dropping us off on the way,” was all he said in reply.
“We can take a cab,” I replied promptly, not wanting to spend even a minute more with this infuriating man.
“Actually, we can take my car,” said Dhruv quietly, shooting a keen glance from my face to Viren’s. “And I’ll make sure I drop Sue and Sufi home safely.”
“Thanks, man. Have fun, guys,” said Viren, before he walked away without a glance at me.
Why the hell had he introduced himself as my husband if he didn’t even care to say goodbye? I tossed my hair out of my face and resolved to enjoy myself tonight without giving a single thought to the asshole who liked to play ping-pong with my heart.