8. Guilt Trip #2
‘As long as I’m alive, my silk will not be made outside these four walls. This is my family’s tradition, and it will stay as it always has,’ she said, her tone final. ‘With the Mahalas.’ Then she added, ‘Thank you for coming.’
Sharanji lowered his head.
This is not good.
‘If keeping this tradition alive matters so much to you, why is your grandson working at a school in Patna?’ Jai asked, his tone gentle and respectful.
Her mouth twisted. ‘It’s time for you to leave, Jai sahab.’
Bringing him up was a strategy we’d discussed. But Dadiji required more … tact.
‘Dadiji,’ I said. ‘My father runs a small printing business in Banaras. His father ran it before him. And his father before that.’
She looked at me.
‘My brother was supposed to take it over. But three years ago, he almost left for Delhi because there wasn’t enough money.’ I swallowed. ‘My father had to take a loan to expand the business. To keep him. And even then, it barely worked.’
Dadiji’s hand stilled on the nut she’d been cracking.
‘Your grandson left, didn’t he?’ I asked softly. ‘Not because he wanted to. Because he had to.’
Silence.
‘There’s no money in traditional silk anymore,’ she said finally. ‘People want cheap clothes. Fast. Machine-made.’
‘But they don’t know the difference,’ Jai said. ‘They’ve never been taught to value heritage. That’s what we want to change.’
She looked sceptical.
‘My grandfather built House of Advani to bring Indian craftsmanship to the world,’ he continued. ‘To make people understand what makes it special. What makes it worth preserving.’
‘For rich people in Mumbai,’ she said flatly.
‘For everyone,’ I said. ‘Because once people see Mahala silk – really see it – they’ll want it. They’ll pay for it. And your grandson won’t have to choose between his family’s legacy and feeding his children.’
Dadiji studied us both.
‘You talk about legacy,’ she said slowly. ‘But how do I know you won’t just take our designs and give them to some factory?’
‘Because we’ll put it in writing,’ Jai said. ‘The Mahala name on every piece. Full credit. Full control over the designs. We don’t change anything without your approval.’
‘And the money?’ she asked.
‘Fair royalties,’ Jai said. ‘Paid on time. Every month.’
Dadiji looked at us for an extended moment, then finally said, ‘We will get back to you in a few days.’
A relieved breath escaped my lips. ‘Thank you.’
Despite the blooming hope, we weren’t entirely sure if the Mahalas would accept Jai’s proposal. So, once we were back at our villa, Jai started working on a contingency plan, and I researched the grandson to see if we could bring him on board first.
My phone rang. Maa’s name flashed on the screen.
‘It’s my mom, please excuse me.’ I rose and slipped out to the balcony.
‘Hi, Maa, how are you?’ I asked.
‘How am I supposed to be, Ananya?’ she asked, her voice sharp. ‘You skipped Seema’s wedding! Do you even know how bad that looks? Your mamaji and mamiji—’
‘Maa, I called, texted, but you didn’t answer. I’m on an important business trip. I was needed—’
‘Needed? What about your family needing you?’ she demanded. ‘We told everyone you were coming.’
A tangle of guilt tightened within me. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Sharmaji’s family was furious. Parth came all the way from Delhi—’
‘Parth Sharma from down the street?’
A beat of silence was all I needed. Of course it was that Parth.
A memory surfaced, uninvited.
My arms were full of last-minute shopping for Mumbai when he caught me outside my house.
‘I’ll wait for you,’ he’d said. ‘However long it takes.’
‘Parth, I’m not—’ I’d stopped myself, trying to be kind. ‘I don’t feel that way about you.’
‘Not yet,’ he’d said, smiling like it was a given. ‘But when you come back, maybe—’
‘I don’t think I will. I want to work in fashion. That means staying in Mumbai.’
He’d smiled. ‘That’s fine. I could move to Mumbai too. For the right reason.’
‘I’m serious. We’re friends. That’s all we’ll ever be.’
He’d nodded. But I’d seen it in his eyes – he thought I’d change my mind.
That was seven years ago. I couldn’t believe he still did.
‘Did you set up a meeting with them behind my back?’ I snapped. ‘For my marriage?’
‘Ananya, beta, I—’
‘How could you do this to me?’ I demanded. ‘I’ve told you I’m not interested in getting married. And yet, you tried to ambush me like this? You know what? I’m glad I didn’t come.’
‘You’re twenty-five, Ananya! People are starting to talk—’
My pulse spiked. ‘Let them! This is my life. Stop making decisions for me. I’m not a child.’
A moment of stunned silence. ‘You’ve changed. Mumbai has made you selfish.’
‘No,’ I ground out. ‘It’s made me realise that I can choose my own life. And a forced marriage is not it.’
Maa hung up without a word.
I was shaking with anger when I walked back into the living room.
How could she do this to me? Set me up like that and make me the villain?
Jai searched my face. ‘Everything okay?’
I pressed my lips together, nodding as I dropped onto the sofa and grabbed my laptop.
‘You’re upset,’ he murmured, sliding it out of my hands. ‘What happened?’
Our gazes met. He’s not going to give up.
‘Maa and I … argued.’ My throat felt tight. ‘My cousin Seema’s wedding was this weekend. I was supposed to go back home for it.’
His eyebrows furrowed.
‘But then this meeting came up, and I knew you’d want me to come along, so I didn’t tell you.’
‘You should have told me anyway,’ he said gently. ‘We could’ve worked something out.’
‘They set up a meeting for my marriage with someone. Behind my back.’ The words left a bitter taste on my tongue. ‘I’m glad I didn’t go.’
Maa and I loved each other, but we often clashed.
I just didn’t expect this from Papa and Bhaiyya.
The betrayal stung. ‘And the worst part is that they’re doing this because of “log kya kahenge”.
’ My eyes prickled. ‘They care more about what other people think than their own daughter’s happiness. It’s ridiculous.’
I expected judgement. Questions. But Jai was free of both, as always.
‘I’m sorry they did that.’ He gently brushed a lone tear off my cheek. ‘It’s manipulative, and they shouldn’t treat you like that.’ His voice had an edge I hadn’t heard in a long time. ‘You deserve better.’
‘Damn right I do,’ I mumbled, dragging in a trembling breath.
A faint smile formed on his face. ‘There you are.’ He watched me in a way I couldn’t quite interpret. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. But I hate that you felt like you had to choose. Next time, just tell me. I could have done it myself.’
I arched a brow. ‘And risk Dadiji saying no?’
‘I would have figured out a way to make her say yes.’ He shrugged, his mouth quirking up. ‘I’m a charmer.’
‘Try convincing Dadiji of that.’
‘Please. I’ve convinced tougher critics than her.’
‘Like who?’
‘You,’ he said without missing a beat.
A laugh bubbled up my throat. I breathed a little easier.
Jai’s phone buzzed. A message notification from Sharanji.
He reached for it and unlocked the screen.
He read the text, then froze.
Anticipation thrummed in my veins. ‘What does it say?’
‘He said yes.’ Jai looked up at me, stunned, as if the words hadn’t fully sunk in yet.
‘OH MY GOD!’ Euphoria sparked through me, bright as fireworks. ‘He said yes!’ I grinned. ‘Congratulations, Jai! This is so amazing! I’m so happy!’ I couldn’t control myself; I threw my arms around him.
A startled laugh escaped him as his arms tightened around me.
‘It couldn’t have happened without you,’ he said softly. His hand slid down and splayed against my exposed lower back.
The scent of his cologne wrapped around me. My heart hammered against his chest. He held me a fraction longer, then let go. Our breaths tangled in the space between us.
His lips were so close. So full. So perfect.
He was so perfect.
Neither one of us moved, the tension a taut wire ready to snap.
Jai tilted his head, his lips grazing mine in the softest of touches.
Electricity coursed through me. A soft gasp escaped my mouth.
And that was all it took.
His fingers tangled in my hair, and his lips slanted against mine.
The current flared into lightning, igniting every nerve. My thoughts scattered like sparks until all that remained was Jai. The press of his mouth on mine. The taste of him. The dizzying pull of the kiss.
Every brush of his lips sent tremors of desire down my spine. My hand fisted his hair and pulled him closer.
‘Ananya,’ Jai rasped against my mouth. ‘You’re going to be the death of me.’
Heat gathered low in my belly, spreading like wildfire. Desire throbbed through me. I wanted his mouth, hands, him everywhere.
His teeth grazed my bottom lip, drawing a sharp gasp that he swallowed with another all-consuming kiss. He kissed me like a man starving – each sweep of his mouth hungrier, more demanding, until I was desperate for more.
I was unravelling. I never knew it could be like this. So … raw. Overwhelming. Intoxicating. I’d never felt so utterly out of control. Or more alive.
When we finally tore apart, our warm, broken breaths mingled, and his eyes, darkened with desire, bore into mine with an intensity that stole the little air I had left in my lungs.
My pulse thundered in my ears, and the aftershock of the kiss still crackled through me, leaving me in a haze.
But there were three things I knew with terrifying, absolute certainty.
I wanted Jai.
There was no turning back.
This would never work out.