Chapter 14
TANISHA
“Turn.”
Tani gathered the heavy skirts of her lehenga and rotated on the tiny pedestal in the viewing room. The deep burgundy brocade slapped stiffly against her legs, each movement a reminder of how weighed down she felt.
The celebrity designer she’d chosen for her wedding ghaghra peered down his nose at her like she was a mildly disappointing sketch. Tani wilted under the scrutiny. A second later, she straightened. She was the customer. She didn’t have to grovel for his approval. She hoped.
The mirrors surrounding her reflected a petite bride swallowed by a waterfall of opulent fabric.
“It’s too much,” she whispered, staring at the glossy stranger in front of her. The dark circles beneath her eyes were erased by expertly done makeup, her hair curled in perfect ringlets down her narrow shoulders, her skin buffed and polished to a bridal glow. She should’ve looked radiant. Joyful.
Instead she looked like a zombie bride with highlighter.
“It’s not too much,” the designer said, tone cool but eyes faintly horrified as he scanned her silhouette. “You’re the bride. There is no such thing as too much.”
Tani lifted her gaze to the mirror, meeting her mother’s reflection. Shikha’s frown deepened. “She’s right,” she said quietly. “The material is swallowing her whole. She needs something lighter. More flowy.”
“Flowy.” The designer sniffed as if the word offended him. “She needs more spine.” He jabbed her lightly in the middle of her back, and Tani stiffened instinctively.
Shikha’s lips thinned, but aside from a razor-sharp glare, she held back. In the mirror, she caught Tani’s eye, one eyebrow raised, a silent challenge. Tani wilted a little bit under that look. She did need more spine.
Tani’s phone pinged and she glanced at it.
The stupid group, The Shit Stirrers, Rehan had created was lit for some reason.
She tapped it open and froze. Rehan’s message Big Bro is making sexy music was tagged with an image of Kabir with his arms around a beautiful woman filled the screen.
They stood on the steps of a popular nightclub, his band members arrayed around him, some alone, some with their own partners.
But her gaze was drawn only to him and to the woman in his arms. She looked like the complete opposite of Tani.
Tall, statuesque, long, straight hair reaching to her waist in perfect, shining precision.
She was gazing up at Kabir with the kind of heat in her eyes that Tani knew all too well.
Kabir was looking straight ahead, almost like he was staring right into the camera, and through it into her soul.
She raised her eyes from the phone to her reflection again. And saw the spark that lit up her eyes again. There, she thought, was her spine.
“A softer material,” Tani said softly and when the designer didn’t acknowledge her, she raised her voice. “This doesn’t work for me,” she said firmly. “At all.”
“It’s exactly what you asked for, what you wanted.” The designer’s lips thinned with disapproval.
Tani met her own gaze in the mirror. “And now I want something else.”
The words landed with weight on her heart but she stiffened her shoulders, bracing herself for everything she knew was coming. Her mother’s eyes sharpened but she didn’t say anything.
The designer disappeared into an adjoining room and appeared minutes later with his assistants holding swathes of fabric.
He grabbed a soft, dreamy green and grey chiffon swatch, bringing it over to drape it over her shoulder.
The skirt his assistant held to her waist was a gorgeous pale sea green brocade with silver work.
“This.” Tani said, looking at herself draped in the colours of the ocean.
“They’re not bridal colours.” The designer frowned as he fiddled with the material, draping it to his satisfaction.
“I don’t care,” she said softly. “Ma?”
“I love it,” Shikha confirmed, coming to stand beside Tani. “But it is a bit simple for what Jay’s family has in mind. I think they wanted colour coordinated outfits and his wedding sherwani is a deep maroon.”
“I don’t care what they or anybody else wants.” Tani’s lips firmed. “I want this one.”
Shikha sighed. She glanced at the designer who was listening to all this with a tiny smirk. “Could you give us a moment?” she asked.
The man nodded and left with his entire retinue. Tani and Shikha were left alone in the space, their images reflected back at them in the mirror panelling of the walls. It made it really hard not to meet her mother’s eyes.
“This is what you want?” her mother asked, coming to stand behind her, her hands resting on Tani’s shoulders.
Tani nodded.
“Then go for it, Tan Tan. Life is way too small for settling.”
Tani knew her mother was talking about more than an outfit. But her mother also didn’t know everything…
“Have we made a decision?” The smirky designer was back, his long black hair with blue highlights gleamed in the overhead lights, making Tani want to yank it out of his head.
The phone pinged again. Once, twice, and then a flurry of pings. Tani and Shikha glanced down at it, Tani’s thumb swiping the screen open.
“Is that Kabir?” Shikha’s eyes widened at the new pictures Rehan had posted.
Tani didn’t answer. She couldn’t. It felt like the bottom had fallen out of her world, sending her heart plummeting into the abyss.
On her phone screen, Kabir kissed the woman in his arms, her arms wound around his neck, her eyes closed in blissful joy. She couldn’t see his face, only the back of his head but she would know the back of that head anywhere.
She had no right to be jealous, she told herself. Kabir could kiss whoever he wanted. He wasn’t hers for her to get worked up over. He had been very clear that he would never be hers.
And this was hardly the first woman Tani had seen him with. Ever since she’s turned sixteen and her infatuation with him had first manifested, Tani had had the painful privilege of watching a bevy of beautiful women parade through Kabir’s life.
So why did this one matter?
Her lips trembled as she firmed them, her gaze on her pale face in the mirror. She ripped the material off of her, tossing it to the assistant who stood waiting patiently.
“I’ll take the maroon brocade,” she said, her choice suddenly perfectly clear.
Shikha’s lips tightened but she didn’t argue. She just stepped aside to discuss the details with the designer leaving Tani to her feverish, tangled thoughts.
“Could you drape the maroon brocade once more please?” she asked the assistant who hurried to do her bidding. The assistant made quick work of getting the outfit in place around Tani’s slim frame. This was clearly muscle memory for her at this point.
A few minutes later, Tani took her reflection in.
She looked like she was ready to step off the cover of a bridal magazine.
She watched as the gauzy, gold dupatta was draped over her head and arranged to fall artistically over her shoulders.
She looked regal, elegant…a bride. She looked like Jay’s bride.
She waited patiently as the assistant took measurements, her mother took pictures, and the designer took stock of the annoying bride who couldn’t make up her mind.
Her mother sent her the pictures a second later. “In case you wanted to send it to Jay,” Shikha said briefly. “He was quite insistent that he wanted to match with you at every function.”
Tani nodded, but when her fingers moved, they didn’t send the picture to Jay. They sent it to The Shit Stirrers instead.
The group chat which had been dissecting Kabir’s smooch until that moment exploded with comments.
Kim: You’re so beautiful Tan Tan! I love it!!!!
Vedu: I agree. It’s gorgeous but then everything looks gorgeous on you.
Reh: You look like an overripe tomato.
Advik: Don’t listen to him. It’s very nice.
Kim: Very nice is a comfortable pair of underwear. It is stunning.
Vik: The most comfortable pair of underwear is not very nice. It’s a religious experience. But yes, Tani the Tomato looks stunning.
Her eyes kept scanning the comments, waiting…but nothing came. The one person whose opinion she wanted was silent.
“Tani?” Shikha was back, holding the green lehenga. “I’m taking this too.”
“Why?” Tani turned carefully in the heavy outfit she was trying on.
“Because,” her mother met her eyes, endless subtext in them, “I don’t want you to have any regrets.”
With that her mother wandered off to look for lighter outfits for the events that preceded the wedding. “Change and come join me,” she called out. “We need to figure out the outfits for the sangeet and the other days too.”
Tani’s phone vibrated in her hand. Her fingers were moving before she could tell her brain to calm down. She opened the group to Kabir’s response. Her heart rate slowed almost coming to a stop as she stared, disbelievingly, at the reply he’d sent to her picture.
A single thumbs up.