Say You'll Be My Jaan

Chapter 3

“So, the guy was a bust, huh,” Ankita said, her voice sounding a bit muffled as it came through Meghna’s car speakers.

“Yeah. I mean, the whole thing was weird. He was so … I don’t know. Uptight? And kind of rude? Or maybe just blunt? Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

Meghna had been thinking it over all day and she wasn’t able to make up her mind. Wasn’t able to make sense of him. All she knew was that after a long day of work, after-school rehearsals, and an internal replaying of everything Karthik had said to her, she was mentally exhausted. She’d called Ankita the second she got into her car, needing to get an unbiased opinion and to vent to her friend.

“Please,” Ankita said. “You’re always giving people the benefit of the doubt. If you think he was rude, he was rude.”

She made a good point. “Fine. Maybe. Maybe he was rude,” Meghna said as she changed lanes toward the exit that would take her home. “It doesn’t matter anyway. He was very clear that he never wants to get married.”

Her friend groaned. “What a waste of time. Like you need to go through your parents to find another terrified-of-marriage, commitment-phobic wastrel.”

“Wastrel?”

“I’ve been reading a lot of regency romance. Was he cute at least?”

Hot,Meghna thought. He was hot. He’d been tall, with a sharp jaw and a neatly trimmed beard. His hair had seemed to naturally fall perfectly, as if not a single hair dared to be out of place. He’d been solemn, but she’d thought his demeanor and unintended insults were just nerves at the beginning. She had found it endearing. Until the very end.

Her phone rang with an incoming call. Adrenaline spiked through her when Seth’s name flashed across the screen. “Ankita, I’m sorry, I’m getting another call. I promise I’ll call you right back.” She quickly hung up and answered.

“Meg! How are you?” The warmth in Seth’s voice immediately lifted her spirits. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been wanting to talk to him.

“Good! But first, I have to know how your pitch went!” After years of trying to break out as a songwriter in Nashville, Seth had finally made a name for himself in the country-pop crossover scene. Just this week, a major recording artist—who happened to be an ex-boybander that Meghna may have had a poster of in her childhood bedroom—had requested a meeting with Seth, wanting to hear any ideas he might have for his new album.

“It was amazing,” Seth said. “I played him the opening of that song I told you about last week and he loved it. He wants to hear the rest.” He laughed. “I didn’t tell him I haven’t finished it, though. Or that I’m really stuck on the third verse.”

“Send it over,” Meghna said easily. “I’ll take a look tonight.”

“Really? You’re truly the best, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. By the way, I heard ‘Angel in Red’ on the radio the other day. It was surreal. I had no idea you were going to go with those lines I sent.”

“Well, when they were that good, how could I not?”

Meghna’s chest warmed.

“How’s your work going?” he asked. “Wait, you sent me a text, I think. That they signed off on the play or something?”

“They did,” she said, touched that he’d remembered. She’d been fighting for her school to have a theater program since her first day on the job. When the school board had unexpectedly granted her request this semester, she’d been overjoyed, then immediately overwhelmed at the idea of teaching both English and theater and putting a full production together on such short notice.

“I have no idea how it’ll turn out. We barely had any surplus in our budget, so we’re really stretching to make ends meet, but I’m just happy they didn’t give the extra to athletics again this year.”

“Well, it’ll be nice for you to get back to your roots,” Seth said. “Just like old times. You basically played the starring role in every production in college.”

Meghna laughed at the exaggeration. “I remember it differently …”

“Well, theater was always where your heart was at.”

“It still is,” Meghna insisted. “Actually, I just sent you a revised version of my second act. I tightened up the part you mentioned, and I think it’s really coming along. Have you had a chance to look at it?”

He blew out a loud breath, a whooshing sound traveling through her car speakers. “No. I’m so sorry. I’ve been under a lot of stress. So much has been happening. That’s what I was calling about, really. I wanted to see if you’d gotten the invitation.”

Meghna’s smile slipped off her face. Her good mood was snuffed out immediately. “Yes. Yes, I did. Congratulations!” she said, forcing herself to sound happy. “I, umm, I had no idea you and Julie had gotten so serious.” Seth had barely even brought up Julie’s name around Meghna. And when he had, he’d always made it sound so casual. Seth flitted in and out of “situationships” all the time. She’d just assumed this was another one.

“I really meant to call you before the invitations went out,” he said apologetically. “But this all happened so much faster than we planned. Julie had her heart set on this particular venue and they had a surprise cancellation and things really snowballed from there. We’ve booked the caterers and she’s found the dress and there are only a few things left to do.”

He paused and took a deep breath. “You know, you’ve been my closest friend since college. You supported my songwriting dreams in those early days when no one else believed in me. And even though I have an entire team now, you’re still the first person I want to send every first bad draft to. Your feedback means more to me than anyone else’s. There’s no one I trust more. No one whose input matters more. You just … you mean the world to me, Meg.”

“Thanks, Seth,” she said. Even though his words were incredibly kind, a vague sense of dread started growing in the pit of her stomach. “You mean a lot to me too.”

“So, I guess what I’m trying to ask is … will you be my best man?”

Shock turned her blood to ice. She could barely process what she’d just heard. His best man? His best man?

“Wow,” she said, a bit numbly. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes. Please. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. Plus, think how adorable you’ll look in a tux.”

Adorable?Like she was a baby or a small woodland animal. Ugh.

“And think about how much fun we’ll have at the bachelor party!” he said.

She would have to go to his bachelor party? No, she quickly realized. She would have to organize the bachelor party. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t stand next to him as he vowed to love and cherish someone else. She had to come up with some excuse. Anything.

“You know I’d love to and I’m so honored you asked me, but …” Her mind went blank. She couldn’t think of a single reason to say no.

“But nothing,” he said. “I get why you’re hesitating. I know it’s not exactly conventional and people might think we’re weird, but you’ve been there for me. For so many years. This is the most important day of my life and I need you. I need you to be there. Please?”

How could she refuse that? “Of course, Seth,” she found herself saying. “Of course, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” he said, his relief evident in his voice. “It’ll be fun, Meg. Really. We can talk about all of the details later, but I’m so excited.”

“Me too,” she said, trying to infuse her voice with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “I can’t wait. Congratulations again, Seth. I really am happy for you.”

The second the call ended, a dull, throbbing pain started in her chest. Her mind went back to Karthik’s words. No one falls in love by accident. She could almost hear his dry tone. His disbelief. The way he’d spat out the word love like it was poison.

But he was wrong. And she had been wrong too. She hadn’t just accidentally fallen in love with Seth all those years ago. She may have accidentally stayed in it. She wanted to scream.

Karthik’s voice rang in her head again. Why? Because you’ve accidentally fallen in love before? She wasn’t sure why those words had hurt so much in the moment. She didn’t think it was the question itself, but the way he’d said it. Like she was some unrealistic, na?ve Pollyanna.

So, she had accidentally fallen for her best friend. That was normal. And they’d ended up dating. Also normal. And maybe she still had feelings for him. Years later. Even though he was about to get married. While she stood next to him as his “best man.” But that didn’t matter. Who was Karthik to judge her? Her hands tightened around the steering wheel in anger. Thank God she never had to see him again.

Karthik had made up his mind. He had to see her again. He didn’t have much of a choice. He couldn’t see any other way out of the mess he was in. Granted, it was a mess of his own making, but he didn’t know how he had let it get this out of hand.

He had only been back in Manhattan a few days when he received a calendar invite that made him groan. Today was his father’s birthday. It had completely slipped his mind. Thankfully, his family didn’t do large birthday celebrations. It would just be him, his parents, and the gulab jamuns they always picked up from their favorite sweet shop in Jackson Heights.

He spent that day at work mentally preparing himself to see his father. He couldn’t remember the last time they had been in the same room together. Sure, he made weekly visits to his parents’ house in Queens to see his mother, but he always chose times he knew his father would be away. He was tempted to skip tonight, but he knew how much his absence would hurt his mom.

So, he showed up at his parents’ house promptly at six-thirty, with a birthday card he had picked up at the corner store around the block. His mother, as always, was glad to see him. His father was curt but cordial. The dinner progressed without incident and Karthik thought he might be able to escape the night unscathed. He should have known something would happen to break the peace. Something always did.

“Karthik told me last week that Marianne might be retiring,” his mother said, facing his father.

“Hmmph.” His father gave the barest of acknowledgments, not even glancing in Karthik’s direction.

A few seconds of silence passed.

“That’s right, isn’t it, Karthik?” his mother asked. “Marianne’s retiring?”

Karthik nodded in confirmation, though his father missed the gesture. His eyes were elsewhere, probably glued to the phone he was doing a poor job of hiding under the table.

Not that it mattered. His father wouldn’t care that Marianne Tharp, the senior vice president of Karthik’s department, was retiring. And he wouldn’t care that Karthik was thinking of putting his name in for the job. Not that Karthik would actually be considered for an executive position like that. There were too many rungs on the ladder between his position and Marianne’s. Still, it was incredibly rare for their company to have this kind of opening. The least he could do was try.

The room returned to its earlier silence. After a moment, his mother tried to jump-start the conversation again.

“I was wondering, Karthik, what would you think about canceling our next trip?”

Hope flared within him, but it quickly burned out. His mom had arranged three meetings in Ohio next weekend, and she would never give up on her plans so easily.

“I don’t know,” he said carefully. “Is there a reason you want to?”

“No, I don’t want to,” she said. “I just thought you might want a break. Some time to think about things … about Meghna …”

He mentally kicked himself. He knew his thoughtless comment after meeting Meghna would come back to haunt him.

“I emailed her number to you,” she continued. “I thought you might want to call her. Maybe talk to her before meeting anyone else …”

“You’re wasting your time, Shanti,” his dad interjected. “Calling everyone you know. Flying all over the country. Setting up all of this for him. He’s not even grateful.”

“That’s not true,” his mother said softly. “He’s thinking about it. He’s—”

“He’s said no to eight women. Eight!” His father shot a glare in Karthik’s direction. “And he feels no shame about it. He’s selfish, Shanti. It’s all about him. All about what he wants.”

Karthik’s temperature rose, but he took a deep breath, letting his father’s words roll off his back.

“He doesn’t care about what’s right for this family,” his father continued. “He doesn’t care what you want.”

Karthikdidn’t care what his mom wanted? He cared so much that he had disrupted his entire life for her. When had his father ever sacrificed anything for his mother? When had he even tried to find out what she wanted? When had he ever cared about her happiness? Or Karthik’s?

“I think it’s time for me to leave,” Karthik said evenly. He folded his napkin underneath the table and set it down on his chair. He knew proper etiquette demanded that he leave it on the table, but his hands were shaking with barely suppressed anger. He couldn’t let his father see. Couldn’t let him know how badly his words had affected him.

He gave his mother a quick hug goodbye. “I think you’re right, Amma. We should cancel the trip next weekend.”

“What a surprise,” his father muttered.

A streak of rage shot through Karthik’s body. Before he could help himself, he added, “Because I called Meghna. Today.” The lie tasted acrid on his tongue.

“Really?” his mother asked. Her entire face brightened, only to quickly dampen when his father spoke.

“Wow. Congratulations.” His father’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Did you hear that, Shanti? Our son, after meeting eight different women, finally called one of them. What do you think? Should we bring the sweets back out to celebrate?”

The rage within Karthik grew, but he refused to let it show. “Maybe we should. I’m going to ask her to marry me,” he said calmly. The words echoed in the room.

“What?” his father croaked.

“I’m going to ask her to marry me,” he said again. A sense of rightness settled over him. He headed to leave, but took a final look back at his parents. “Happy birthday,” he said with a smile, enjoying the dumbfounded look on his father’s face and the joyful look on his mother’s. It wasn’t until later, when he was halfway back to his apartment, that he realized this meant he’d really have to propose.

He waited for the idea to fill him with horror, but the more he thought about it, the more he wondered whether it was that bad of an idea. After all, people broke engagements all the time. And while he was engaged, he wouldn’t be expected to travel and meet all these women. The meetings were starting to take a toll on him, and he couldn’t imagine lasting the rest of the year at this pace. Of course, going through with this would mean that he’d actually have to call Meghna and talk to her again, but for some reason, that didn’t seem like such a bad idea, either.

That night, just as he was about to fall asleep, he reached for his phone, scrolling until he found it: the email his mother had sent him with Meghna’s number. He flagged it and set a reminder to call her the next morning before work. He closed his eyes, feeling at peace about his plan. For the first time in the past month, he slept soundly through the entire night.

Meghna lay in bed, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling. Best man? Best man? What had Seth been thinking? And what had she been thinking? How could she have agreed to it?

She tossed back and forth, finally finding a comfortable position on her side. Per the neon lights of the digital clock on the nightstand, it was five in the morning. And by her count, this was the third time she’d woken up tonight. She closed her eyes, hoping to squeeze in an hour or two more of sleep, but nervous energy hummed through her body.

It would have been hard enough going to Seth’s wedding in the first place. Watching him marry someone he considered the love of his life when she’d once imagined the two of them finding their way back to each other. When she’d once thought of him as the one that got away. But this was so much worse. She’d have to smile and pretend to be happy for him. Stand by his side as it all happened and act as if nothing was wrong.

Meghna groaned, reaching for her phone and finally admitting defeat. As much as she wanted to get a bit more sleep, she was awake for good now. She scrolled through her texts and snorted as she reread an earlier conversation with Ankita.

Just twelve minutes after that text, Ankita had burst through Meghna’s door, rushing into the living room, slightly out of breath.

“Are you kidding me? You’re going to be his best man? What does that even mean? What will you have to do?”

Meghna had shrugged, trying to keep a veneer of calm. “I’ll have to do the same stuff as any other best man.” She hadn’t mentioned that she had very little idea of what that usually entailed.

“But how could Seth ask that of you? Doesn’t he know … He has to know that it’s weird to ask you. That it would be hard for you and …”

Meghna had blown out a breath. “How would he know that? We’re friends. We’ve always been friends. Even when we dated, he didn’t really see me as anything beyond that.” She had forced her lips into a smile, but the movement was brittle. Stiff. “He’s made that very clear.”

Ankita’s arms had immediately come around her, and Meghna relaxed into the embrace. Maybe Ankita was right. Maybe Seth should have realized that asking her to do this would be hard or weird, but Meghna had never given him any reason to think that their breakup back in college had hurt her. Or that she still harbored feelings for him. She’d always played it cool.

Not that she’d really had any other choice. At their college graduation, Meghna had felt so secure, so safe in their relationship. She and Seth had been going to different cities, but she had never doubted that they could make it work. Never doubted that Seth was just as committed to their future as she was.

When he’d broken up with her, she’d realized how delusional she’d been. Seth had wanted to go back to being friends. Just friends. And the way he’d said it, he’d made it sound like that was all they’d ever been. Like they’d only dated because it had been convenient. Because they’d been in the same class and lived in the same dorm. And now that they were going their separate ways, this was the only thing that made sense.

She’d been crushed, but with time she’d realized it wasn’t Seth’s fault that she’d gotten carried away. That she’d developed stronger feelings for him than he had for her. She was the one who’d let her expectations get out of control. Who’d dreamed of a future he hadn’t promised her. A future he couldn’t give her.

She should have learned from that experience. Should have stopped dreaming of an impossible future with him. Instead, she’d made the same mistake again.

After releasing her from the hug, Ankita had entered distract-my-best-friend-so-they-don’t-feel-sorrow mode. She’d ordered a pizza, extra cheesy, and found a made-for-Netflix rom-com that was somehow even cheesier.

Both had soothed Meghna’s worries and taken her mind off things until the end of the movie, when the main character walked down the aisle in a big, poofy white dress. Ankita had shot her an apologetic glance, but Meghna had barely noticed, her anxiety returning as bright and hot as a flame.

That would soon be Julie. Walking down the aisle to Seth. And Meghna would have to watch it all happen. Just a few steps away. Right up in the action. In front of a crowd. She’d have to compose herself. Monitor her expressions. She wouldn’t even be able to look away.

And then she’d have to go to the reception all alone. Sure, she could bring Ankita. Or find some guy on Bumble to take. But she couldn’t imagine that would be any better than going alone. Seth would probably know it wasn’t a real date. Wasn’t a real relationship. He’d figure it was just some plus-one who’d shown up to keep her company. After all, he hadn’t loved or cared about her that way. Why would anyone else?

Meghna tossed her phone back on the nightstand and turned on the lights. If she was going to be up this early, she might as well try to do something productive with the time. She brewed a cup of coffee, grabbed her laptop from the couch, and climbed back into bed, propping an absurd number of pillows behind her.

Time passed quickly, and an hour and a half later she found herself engaged in one of her favorite pastimes: perusing WikiHow articles for wisdom. She was currently in the middle of one titled “How to Plan a Bachelor Party.” She had started with “How to Stop a Wedding” and “How to Tell Your Ex You Still Have Feelings for Them,” but had quickly dismissed the advice there. They all started with the recommendation that she speak with Seth about her feelings. And if she was brave enough to do that, she would have done it years ago. Besides, he seemed happy. She wouldn’t be the one to ruin that for him.

No, she was resigned to her current situation. The wedding was only three months away, and if she was going to do this, she needed to get started. She pulled up “How to Be the Best Best Man” and read through the list:

She stopped reading and dropped her head back with a groan. She hadn’t even thought about giving a toast. She opened a new tab in her browser and was about to search “How to Write a Best Man Speech” when the top right corner of her screen flashed with an incoming FaceTime call. She didn’t recognize the number and she couldn’t imagine that anyone she knew would try to call her at six-thirty in the morning. She ignored it and went back to her search.

She had just started skimming a sample wedding toast when her phone dinged with a text message.

Hello Meghna,

This is Karthik. I hope you are doing well. I’m sorry I called so early, but I have an urgent matter to discuss with you and would prefer to do it face-to-face. Please call me back if you are free or let me know some other times you would be available for a video call.

She read the message. Then read it again. She couldn’t believe Karthik had been the one calling. But the message sounded just like him: cold, to the point, and exacting. She was tempted to ignore him. It would serve him right. After all, she didn’t owe him a conversation. She pulled the speech back up and tried to read it, but her mind wandered. Why had he reached out? What could possibly be so urgent? Why did it have to be face-to-face?

She thought it over for a second, then reached up to wipe the remnants of last night’s acne cream off her chin. She wouldn’t be able to relax until she found out what he wanted. She shook her hair out of the bun she’d slept in and checked her appearance with the computer camera. Passable. She’d looked better, but it was too early for her to get out of bed for any reason. She smoothed the worst of the frizz with her hands and tucked her curls behind her ears. Before she could think too much more about it, she called him back.

He answered immediately, his face filling the screen.

“Meghna,” he said. “Thanks for returning my call.”

She blinked. When they’d met in person there had been a normal amount of distance between them, but now they were eye-to-eye, just inches apart. Only separated by a screen. She hadn’t mentally prepared for this. And how was it possible that he looked even better than she had remembered?

She forced her gaze away from his face, trying to focus on something other than his warm brown eyes, the sharpness of his jaw, the surprising fullness of his lips. She took in the diplomas hanging on the wall. His white button-down shirt. The large windows that showed a hint of the skyscrapers behind him.

She frowned. “Are you already at work?”

“It’s an hour later over here,” he replied.

“Right,” she said. “An hour later. So, it’s seven-thirty?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Do you normally start work at seven-thirty?”

“Sometimes,” he said. He seemed to notice where she was for the first time. “You’re in bed.”

“Yeah. A normal place to be this early. At least for some of us …”

His mouth tightened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve actually been up for a while. And I live close to work so I am not in any rush. Besides, you said it was urgent.”

He straightened. “Yes, it is.” He cleared his throat. “I should start by saying that everything I said last weekend is still true. I don’t plan on ever getting married.”

“Okay,” she said slowly.

“That said, I see some benefit to being engaged and wanted to know whether you felt the same way. I think we could reach a mutually beneficial agreement, so we should discuss your interest and possibly negotiate some terms.”

He paused, as if waiting for her to respond, but Meghna couldn’t make heads or tails out of what he was saying. What agreement? What could they have to negotiate?

“Karthik, I’m not following,” she said.

“I’m proposing,” he said.

“Proposing what?”

He exhaled loudly. “I’m asking you to marry me.”

“What?” Was he joking? Mr. I’ll-Never-Get-Married was proposing? To her?

“Not really marry me,” he quickly added. “Just to say you’ll marry me. And to tell other people that you’ll marry me.”

That confirmed it. He was joking. Or the lack of sleep was giving her hallucinations. It had to be one or the other.

She stared at him for a moment, waiting for the punch line. But he didn’t add anything further. He just looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“You’re proposing to me?”

“Yes,” he said.

“But you don’t want to marry me.”

“No, of course not.”

She gave a humorless laugh and rubbed her forehead. “Right, of course. How silly of me to think you’d want to marry me when you’re asking to marry me.”

He winced. “I’m sorry. I’m not explaining this well.”

“You’re not explaining it at all!”

“I want us to be engaged, but not actually get married,” he said.

Like that makes any more sense.“Why?” she asked. “Why would we do that?”

“That’s why I was calling. To see if there’s any reason that would appeal to you. You already know what I promised my mother. I’ve been thinking that if I was engaged, I wouldn’t have to go to these meetings anymore. I wouldn’t have to travel every weekend. And I could save myself some stress.”

She took in what he was saying. “You want a fake engagement?”

“Yes, exactly,” he said, a note of relief in his voice.

“To get you out of the promise to your mom?”

“Yes.”

Her head spun. “But what would I …. Why would I agree to that?”

He paused. “I was hoping there might be something you would want. Something you could get out of it. Maybe it would get your family off your back? Take away some of their pressure to get married?”

She considered it for a moment. Her parents would like to see her married, but they’d never really pressured her. They just wanted her to be happy. Wanted her to find love.

Of course, they wanted a lot of things for her. And so far, she’d done nothing but let them down. Not like her brother, Samir. He’d followed in their footsteps. Fulfilled their dreams by becoming an engineer. Made them proud.

But this … For the first time there was something she could do that Samir hadn’t managed to yet. By getting engaged, she could finally make her parents happy. What would it be like to see them actually be pleased with her choices instead of disappointed?

She let herself imagine it before her daydream came grinding to a sudden halt. What had she been thinking? She wouldn’t actually be making them proud. None of it would be real. It’d all be a lie. And when the fake engagement ended, or even worse, if they found out the truth, they’d be just as disappointed in her as they’d always been.

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Look, I know it’s a lot. But all I’m asking is that you consider it. And not just as a favor to me. I’m willing to be flexible. To make sure you get whatever it is you want. Or need. Please. Just think about it for a little longer,” he pleaded.

In the very short amount of time she’d known Karthik, this was the most emotion he had shown. He sounded desperate. Despite her better judgment, she started to think about it. Could she have any use for a fake fiancé? She was pulling up her web browser, about to search for any advice articles on pretend engagements, when the last item she had been reading snagged her attention. The sample best man speech.

It would be nice if she didn’t have to go to Seth’s wedding alone. Even nicer if she could bring a “fiancé” with her.

“I do need a plus-one for a wedding,” she said slowly.

“Done. Absolutely. What else?”

Meghna paused. She hadn’t expected Karthik to agree that quickly. Without asking any questions at all. It made her stop and think about whether she should be asking any questions of her own.

“Why can’t we just say we’re dating?” she asked a moment later. “Isn’t that what people normally do now?” She didn’t think anyone got engaged right after these arranged meetings anymore. At least, Ankita and Rishi had dated for a while before he’d proposed. Meghna had assumed that was the norm.

Karthik opened his mouth, then closed it. He was quiet for a moment, then shook his head.

“That won’t work for me. It needs to be an engagement.”

“Why?”

“It just does,” he said with a stubborn lift of his chin.

She shook her head. “I don’t think my parents are going to buy that I’m getting engaged to someone I just met.” Not to mention she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about lying to them about something this serious.

“Tell them we’re doing a long engagement. Really long. Just say that my family is more traditional but that we’ll basically be dating and getting to know each other while we plan the wedding.”

“Is that why we can’t just date? Because of your family?”

He blinked, then nodded. “Yes. Because of my family.”

Meghna sighed. The whole thing seemed incredibly messy.

“Is there anything else you’d want? Anything else I could do? Something I could help you with?” Karthik asked, seeming to sense the hesitancy on her end.

She thought it over for a second. “Just the wedding, really. Well, I’m part of the wedding party, so there may be some other events you’d have to go to.”

“Not a problem,” he said. He waited a beat. “So, you’re saying yes?”

She paused as she imagined showing up to Seth’s wedding with this incredibly handsome man on her arm. Introducing him to everyone as her fiancé. Introducing him to Seth. The thought of going to this wedding alone had been killing her, and bringing a fiancé was a lot better than bringing some random plus-one. It would communicate that she was completely over Seth. That she had someone who loved her. Who wanted to marry her. Even if Seth didn’t.

Plus, Karthik would be in New York the whole time so it wasn’t like they’d really get in each other’s way. They wouldn’t have to keep up appearances constantly.

“How long would we be doing this for?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we’re not going to actually get married, right? So, I’m thinking we need an end date.”

“Right,” he said slowly. “That makes sense.” He took a deep breath. “Well, the deal with my mother was for a year, so …”

Yeah, no.“I’m not doing this for a year.” She chewed her lip as she thought it over. “Three months,” she said. “Until my friend’s wedding. Then we’re done.”

“That’s not enough time. My mom will just restart the meetings and I’ll be back to square one.”

Meghna’s eyebrows rose. “You really think she’ll make you do more meetings after the engagement ends?”

“Why wouldn’t she? I promised her—”

“A year. I know. But with the broken engagement … I mean, it’d be believable if you were heartbroken. If you told her you needed time. And space. If you said you weren’t ready to meet anyone new.”

A few seconds of silence passed. Then he nodded crisply. “Okay. Three months. Do we have a deal?”

He sat very still, waiting for her answer. No hint of emotion on his face. He was stoic. Calm. Composed. And his arms were crossed, making the muscles there more visible. God, even his forearms were hot.

“Yes,” she said. “We do.”

Surprise, or something like it, flashed across his face, but he quickly masked it. “Good,” he said with another nod. “I think this will work out very well for the both of us. I haven’t drafted any terms yet, but I could send something around by the end of the week.”

“What kind of terms?”

He shifted in his seat. “I … I’m not sure,” he said. “But I’m sure we’ll need more. Beyond what we just discussed. Eventually.”

She grinned. “I’m sure we will.” And to her surprise, he smiled back.

“Nice shirt,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said instinctively. She glanced down and almost laughed. She had forgotten she’d slept in this. It was one of her favorites: bright blue with two cartoon bananas talking to each other.

“Can you even read it?” she asked.

“I can make some of it out,” he said. “Just enough to get the joke.”

“You know Hindi?” she asked with some surprise. She wouldn’t have expected Karthik to know any Hindi at all. His family was Tamil, just like her father’s side of the family, so if they spoke anything besides English at home, it would be Tamil. Meghna only knew Hindi because it was her mother’s native language, and even then, she could only understand some of it. She had grown up speaking mostly English, since that was the only language her parents had in common.

“I only know a few words,” he said. “But I’ve heard this one before.”

On the shirt, one banana asked, “Why am I always alone?,” and the other answered, “Because you are a kela.” “Kela” was Hindi for “banana” and “akela” meant “alone.” It was a silly play on words, but it had been a gag gift from her brother. And it had started a fun tradition.

“My brother and I have a bunch of these,” she explained. “He found one and thought it would be funny to give it to me for my birthday, so I found another one and sent it to him. Now we can’t stop. We’ve even started designing our own. I’m thinking about making one with two glasses of milk and some joke involving “doodh” and “dude,” but I haven’t figured it out yet.”

The corners of Karthik’s mouth tilted up, and the tension in Meghna’s shoulders started to fade. Maybe this would work out for both of them. Maybe somewhere beneath that yummy, stern, Captain Von Trapp-esque exterior, there was some warmth. Maybe he actually had a sense of humor. Maybe …

“Well, I’ll let you go, Meghna. I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me. We can circle back on those terms this weekend and discuss how we want to inform our families. Talk to you soon.” The call abruptly ended, and his face disappeared from the screen.

Or maybe not.