Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
SUNAINA
I t wasn’t for nothing that I called Sufi the Narad Muni/Loki of my life. The man was a born shit-starter.
“You must be joking,” I snarled. “I’m not sharing a bedroom with him . That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“And neither was your boy toy,” said Viren. “And yet, you were about to swan off with him into the sunset, weren’t you?”
“I was just trying to make the eventual separation easier on everyone,” I cried.
Viren snorted in reply, and the sound made me want to punch him in the throat. Luckily for him, we drew up outside Chaudhry House.
I slid out of the car and stared up at the grand mansion that had become my haven. I had found sanctuary here. And love. But now, all I had left was heartbreak.
“Do it for Aisha,” Viren whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “One month. That’s how close we are to our goal. The social worker will take a month to make enquiries about us, and when she’s compiled all her data, she will visit us for a home inspection. This month is very crucial for us, Sunaina. It could make or break the adoption. I don’t want to give Ajit any ammunition to put a spoke in the process. Do you think you can put up with me until all this is over?”
Could I? Or would that one month destroy me completely?
“Only if we share a suite with separate bedrooms,” I countered, but Viren shook his head.
“That would defeat the whole purpose. It has to be one bedroom. And one bed.”
He stared down at me grimly as he said that.
I felt a gush of wetness at the thought of sharing a bed with him. My heart began banging about in my chest as if possessed, and my vision started going dark.
“Breathe, wifey,” he growled, making my knees go weak.
Damn it! How was I going to keep my distance from him if he called me wifey?
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped, taking in a big gulp of air.
“It stopped you from fainting, didn’t it?” he asked with a grin.
“I wasn’t about to faint,” I said through gritted teeth. “I was just feeling a little claustrophobic at the thought of sharing a bed with you and your giant ego.”
“It’s not that big,” he said modestly, and I wondered if I could just put a pillow over his face when he was asleep and end all my misery.
He stared with suspicion at the smile that grew on my face at that thought.
“Don’t even think about whatever’s making you grin like a chudail,” he hissed.
“Remember this grin every time you even think of pissing me off over the next month, Mr C,” I replied.
“Bring it on… wifey ,” he growled just as I was walking away, and I was sure it was just a weird coincidence, but I stumbled over my own feet. With a deep breath and a lot of restraint, I ignored his low laugh and stalked into the house.
Sufi had already arranged to move all my stuff into Viren’s room, so when I went upstairs, I had to dodge past the helpers who were moving the contents of my wardrobe into Viren’s massive walk-in closet.
“Sufi…listen,” I said, grabbing his sleeve as he supervised the move. “That walk-in closet is so massive. Just put a day bed in there and no one will know any better.”
“Babe, I don’t trust those women. What if they come snooping in here when you’re both out of the house and take pictures of your sleeping arrangements? Are you willing to risk Aisha’s future over such a small thing?”
“Look, Viren’s Chachi probably already knows we sleep separately.”
“She lives in her own wing on the other end of the mansion, sweetie. She knows nothing of what goes on here because she sticks to her side of the house. Maybe she’s heard something from the staff, but they can’t prove a thing. Not anymore,” he replied.
I sighed in defeat and went unwillingly to Viren’s room. I had never been in here, although he had entered my room on the few occasions when I fell asleep in the den during movie night, and he had carried me up to bed.
It was a huge room with the aforementioned walk-in closet and a bathroom that was bigger than my father’s flat in Borivali. It had high ceilings with stained glass fanlights over the large windows and a big balcony overlooking the garden. The furniture was old and made entirely of teakwood. It was very different from the modern furniture in the rest of the house. These were vintage pieces, lovingly restored and shipped from all over the country.
I pushed open the bathroom door and gasped at the sheer opulence of it. There was a huge enclosed shower area that was too big to be called a cubicle, with a large whirlpool spa tub in one corner. There were speakers built into the ceiling outside the shower area. I gaped at the complicated shower equipment that looked like you needed an engineering degree to operate it. There was a big rain shower head, along with multiple shower heads at various heights, ensuring the most decadent shower experience.
I had a feeling this was going to be my favourite spot in the room, I thought with delight. I loved taking long, boiling hot showers that left me looking like a boiled lobster.
I dragged myself out of the bathroom reluctantly and found the room empty, except for my husband, who was standing by the window looking out at the garden. Immediately, I felt like an intruder. This was Viren’s space and I didn’t know if I would ever fit in here.
“I can hear you overthinking,” he said, looking over his shoulder.
I smiled hesitantly.
“I was just wondering how I’d ever fit in here. This room is so…you.”
“What do you mean?”
I looked around the room once before I met his enquiring gaze.
“The first impression is stark, uninviting…hostile,” I began, and a muscle jumped in his jaw at this indictment. “But then…”
Viren moved suddenly, and I lost the thread of what I was saying. He walked up to me and stood looking down his long, aristocratic nose at me.
“But then?” he bit out.
“Then you start noticing the little things that bring in the warmth, from the gorgeous vintage furniture to the soft, thick bedding. Not to mention that mindblowing bathroom!”
“You’re comparing me to a bathroom?” he asked in disbelief.
“It is the Viren Chaudhry of bathrooms, trust me,” I said with a quick grin. “It’s very special.”
His eyes darkened as he stared at my lips, and again, I felt a gush of wetness at the intensity of his gaze. Oy, if he was going to look at me like that every time we were alone in our room, then I was in serious trouble.
“I’m going to change and go downstairs,” I said hastily, ducking past him to look for a change of clothes.
The rest of the day sped by, with Aisha being monopolised by Laxmi Aunty, who ignored me as if I were a member of the staff. Luckily, Sufi had managed to have a quick word with Aisha, warning her not to answer any questions about our sleeping arrangements. I was wondering if she would be weirded out by my moving into Viren’s bedroom, but she didn’t seem to care.
Viren’s aunt and Tahira kept him occupied after dinner, and I went upstairs silently, hoping he’d stay downstairs until I was asleep. Although I had no idea how I was going to fall asleep at all. I mean, I was going to sleep in Viren’s bed!
I changed into my Garfield pyjamas and got under the covers with my guided sleep meditation plugged into my ears. But I’d barely got to the deep breathing part when I felt the bed dip.
My eyes flew open, and I turned my head to see Viren staring at me in the dim light of his bedside lamp. My eyes skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.
“Hello,” I whispered.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked softly. “Do you have enough space for all your things?”
I nodded softly, and his gaze moved to my messy hair spread all over my pillow. Viren’s throat worked as he swallowed.
“You have beautiful hair,” he muttered, looking away abruptly.
“Thanks,” I whispered, my heart going at a million miles an hour. I was about to have a heart attack. All over a small compliment about my hair.
Just then, my phone pinged. I picked it up and was surprised to see a text from Dhruv, checking if I was okay. I typed out a quick reply and put the phone back on the bedside table.
“Why the hell is he texting you so late in the night?” demanded Viren, sitting up.
I swept my hair off my face and glared at him.
“It’s rude to look at someone’s phone,” I said coldly.
“Not when that someone happens to be my wife,” he countered.
“Fake wife,” I reminded him through gritted teeth. “You act like you have some sort of claim over me. But you don’t.”
“I don’t care, Sunaina. I can’t believe you brought him into our bed.”
I sat up in shock and gaped at him, wondering if he’d had a serious brain injury.
“Were you dropped on the head as a child, Viren?”
“I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask Daima,” he said with an eye roll.
I growled under my breath and went up on my knees so I was nose to nose with him.
“I did not bring anyone into our bed ! I can text anyone I like because this is my space as much as it is yours. And if you don’t need my permission to text your friends, I certainly don’t need yours to text mine. As for calling it our bed, it is just a space that we share. So quit making it out to be anything more.”
“So you’d be okay with me texting…say…Tahira…while I’m in bed with you?” he asked, and I wanted to slam my pillow into his stupid, gorgeous face.
How dare he text her at all? He read my answer in my eyes.
“I didn’t think so,” he said with a smirk. “So don’t even think about that smarmy bastard when you’re in our bed.”
“Why not?” I demanded angrily. “Give me one reason why I can’t think of or text or speak to Dhruv while I’m in your bed.”
Viren went still at my question. He knew what I was asking. He had no right to object to my friendship with Dhruv, yet he was acting as if I was cheating on him. I couldn’t possibly cheat on him when we didn’t have a relationship to speak of.
“You know why,” he whispered. “It’s the same reason I will never think of, text or speak to any other woman while you’re here.”
“I’m here only for a month,” I reminded him. “We need some ground rules to get through this month, Viren. Otherwise, we’ll be at each other’s throats all the time.”
He stared at me for a few moments before he nodded.
“Fine!”
“Rule number one: No fighting,” I said.
“Rule number two: We leave the rest of the world out of our bed. This is our space, and only ours,” he countered.
That sounded dangerous. Viren and I needed a buffer zone between us to keep us from straying into dangerous territory.
“Why?” I asked again.
“I don’t know,” he said, but I pressed him further.
“Tell me why, Viren,” I insisted.
“Because I can’t stand the thought of him being anywhere near you! Not even in your thoughts,” he yelled. “And it’s the same reason why you can’t bear to see Tahira touching me.”
Damn! I hadn’t expected him to admit his jealousy. Or call out mine.
Where did we go from here? I had no answer. All I knew was that I could suffer the agony of being near him without touching him for a whole month and have nothing to show for it. Or I could indulge myself for a whole month and then find the strength to walk away from him at the end of it, even if it killed me.
I had been a rule follower all my life. I had never put even a toe over the line because it simply wasn’t in my nature. I wasn’t a rebel. I was a people-pleaser.
I had obeyed my father until he died, and I had obeyed my stepmother until it became absolutely unbearable. And I had obeyed the terms of our marriage contract. What did I get in return for always doing the right thing? Nothing but heartbreak. My father died and left me all alone in the world. My stepmother tried to sell me into marriage to a man twice my age. And my fake husband was going to divorce me soon, leaving me all alone in the world all over again.
Maybe it was time for me to walk on the wild side for a change.
What was the worst that could happen? Viren could turn me down if he didn’t want me. But if it turned out that he did want me, I’d get to live out my dreams, if only for a little while.
I had no illusions about myself. I knew a man like Viren would never want a woman like me forever. I was no match for his culture and sophistication. I didn’t fit into his world. But I also knew that there would never be any other man for me because my world began and ended with Viren.
At twenty-six, I had to be the world’s oldest virgin because I had never been into casual sex. I was waiting for the right man. The man of my dreams. The man who would give me my happy ever after. But it was time to accept that I would never have a happy ever after because the man of my dreams didn’t love me at all.
However, he was attracted to me for now. And this was my only chance to experience physical pleasure. I didn’t want to die a virgin! If I could have a small taste of happiness for a change, why was I so hell-bent on depriving myself?
It was the easiest decision I had ever made, I thought wryly before I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.