Chapter 5 Zofia #2
“I get that,” I said. “When my younger brother got married last year, I felt like I had a big target on my face. Everyone in the extended family wanted to know when I was settling down and why I didn’t have a husband yet.
” Huffing, I blew a strand of hair out of my face.
Of course, they’d all also wanted to know about my failed engagement, something I definitely hadn’t wanted to talk about then.
They both gave me sympathetic looks. “You’re a catch, Zofia,” Angelina said. “I’m sure someone’s going to come along soon and snatch you right up.”
I shook my head. “Keep dreaming, sister. I’m perfectly fine right now.
With this job, I wouldn’t have time to date even if I wanted to.
” I waved her off, because I definitely didn’t want to.
Wincing, I thought of the conversation with my mom earlier today.
“My mother’s actually trying to set me up with someone, but I told her no. ”
“Like an arranged marriage?” Charlotte asked, curiosity evident in her face.
“Yeah. I mean, not quite in the way you’re thinking? I’d still meet him and go out with him a few times before we decided if it was the right fit.”
Gabbi ran her finger over the rim of her glass. “And you… don’t want that?”
“Nic keeps me plenty busy. I don’t know how I’d have time for a husband at this point in my life.
” I didn’t want to give up the life I’d built for myself.
There were still so many things I wanted to do, so many places I wanted to see, foods to try, and things to experience.
I sighed, looking down at my matte red nails.
“I know plenty of people who have arranged marriages who meet their future partner and do fall in love. Don’t get me wrong.
I just…” I sighed, not knowing how to explain why I didn’t.
Not anymore, at least. Maybe a few years ago I’d dreamed of that—the white picket fence, the husband who loved me, kids running around the back yard.
“Believe me. You don’t have to explain the fairytale—that’s why we all read romance novels,” Charlotte popped in.
“And why I write them,” Noelle added with a firm nod.
“Yeah. She just doesn’t understand that it’s not the end of the world for me to be single at thirty.
My brother’s new wife just announced they’re expecting their first baby.
” My younger brother. I was so happy for them; I really was.
Even if it wasn’t what I saw for myself anymore.
“And another cousin of mine just got engaged. So she’s got weddings on the brain. ”
“She just wants you to be happy,” Gabbi offered, her voice soft. She smoothed a hand down her emerald-green cocktail dress, a color I’d seen on her more and more over the last year. It reminded me of Hunter, and the color of his eyes.
“I… was engaged before, actually.” I said, shocking the table. It had happened before I started working for Nic—before I was anything more than a coworker to Gabbi. “It was an arranged marriage. He was the son of our family friends, and I’d known him forever.”
“What happened?”
What happened. God, where did I start? “He cheated on me.”
“No.”
I nodded. “Yeah. In my apartment. He moved in with me, because I didn’t want to move, and then I caught him with her…
in our bed. We were planning the wedding, and both of our families were so happy and then…
it was over.” I’d been devastated. “I could never bring myself to tell her why we broke up.”
“Oh, babe.” Angelina placed her hand over mine. “I’m so sorry. I promise, everything’s going to work out.”
Shrugging, I turned to my drink. “It wasn’t meant to be, you know? But I’m happy now. I have a great job, and great friends.”
Angelina squeezed my hand. “I’m so happy to call you a friend, Zo.” Everyone at the table shared a smile.
“We all are,” Noelle offered.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling touched.
Who needed a husband when you had people like them in your life?
The bell on my precious baby girl’s collar rattled as she ran towards me, and I scooped her up, nuzzling my face into her soft fur. At the end of a long day, there was nothing I loved more than taking my heels off, cuddling my cat, and taking a nice, long bath.
“What am I going to do, Duchess?” I asked her, running my fingers over her coat. She flicked her tail, and I pressed a kiss between her ears, smiling as she let out a happy chirp, nuzzling against my face.
She’d been mine ever since she was a kitten.
When I found the tiny rag-doll cat at the shelter, her icy blue eyes had melted my heart, and I’d known she was supposed to be mine.
She was mostly white, a total diva, and I adored her.
Especially because I seemed to be the only human that she was actually affectionate with.
“Come on, sweet girl,” I said, moving towards the kitchen. “Let’s figure out dinner.”
My cat let out a meow of agreement, and I just smiled, wondering if it was normal to love your pet so much it felt like your heart would explode whenever you looked at them.
Burying my face in Duchess’s fur, I inhaled her sweet kitty scent. Somehow, it always calmed me down.
She was my first pet, my gift to myself after I’d moved into my apartment.
My parents had insisted I was welcome to stay living with them, but I’d wanted my own space.
My independence—not to mention privacy and freedom.
Still, family was important to me, and I loved mine.
I still went over weekly for dinner with my Amma and Appa.
My brothers were my friends, even though we’d tormented and driven each other crazy growing up.
Still, sometimes it felt like I was thirty years old, and I still wasn’t an actual adult.
Maybe because as a kid, I’d figured I’d already be married with a family of my own by now.
My conversation with my mom kept flashing through my mind, how adamant she was at setting me up with someone.
And in the abstract, an arranged marriage sounded perfect.
I’d get the opportunity to meet him and find out if we were a match before any decisions were made.
After Samir, though, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready to put myself out there again.
I’d been humiliated. Too embarrassed to even tell my family what had really gone down.
Luckily, I’d been able to get most of the deposits back for the wedding, but letting all of the extended family know I wouldn’t be getting married after all had been mortifying.
I knew Nic had no idea—I’d never told him about my ex. Never told him how close I’d been to getting married to a man who was cheating on me our whole relationship. Because he’d wanted to marry a good Indian girl to make his family happy.
I’d given him my heart, and he’d all but stomped on it.
So I’d vowed never to make the same mistake again.
I wondered what my mother would think about Nic’s fake proposal.
A contract marriage, he’d called it. Like we were in a Korean drama. In real life, that kind of thing never worked out. Never mind that we’d be lying to everyone.
Could I do that? Pretend that I was in love with him, that I was really his wife? I didn’t know. Not to mention that I hated the idea of everyone in the office gossiping about me, or saying I’d only married him to get ahead.
The idea of marrying Nicolas—of having a contractual relationship with him—was completely inane. It could only end one way: in heartbreak.
There was no way I would ever subject myself to that again.