First Comes Like

by Alisha Rai

  Adil cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should think of a more realistic timeline for a wedding.”

  Bless his uncle, who knew the circumstances of their convoluted path to engagement.

  Shweta leaned back in her chair. Her sharp gaze reassessed the table, and he could tell the exact second she made a tactical change. “There is another reason for haste. You see, my husband, he was very stubborn, and he tied up Dev’s inheritance with a requirement he marry.”

  “Aji!” He half stood, though the cat was already out of the bag. The last thing he wanted was to air this particular laundry in front of Jia and her family. Or anyone, really.

  Shweta continued as if he’d said nothing. “The condition expires in a couple months.”

  Farzana stiffened. “So unless he marries . . .”

  “Immediately, yes, he will be left without a single dime of our family’s fortune. I could give him money, of course, but he’s frighteningly stubborn and won’t accept it. Even though he depleted most of his own savings paying his late brother’s debts. Rohan had a thing for horse racing, sadly.”

  He tossed his napkin over his uneaten cake. “Aji, I think we need to stop—”

  “Dev and I will think about it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “WHAT WERE you thinking?”

  That was a question Jia had gotten a lot in her life, but this was the first time Dev had directed it at her. He delivered it with gentle curiosity, like she hadn’t just agreed that they should get married tomorrow in front of both their families.

  He closed the door to the dining room, where her parents and Shweta were politely arguing the pros and cons of their immediate marriage, with Adil Uncle and Ayesha watching aghast.

  There was no point in pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about. “It seemed like a decent idea. I was being honest.”

  He gave her a long steady look. The sun was dying outside, and it streamed through the windows, warming his brown skin. “I don’t think your parents agree with you.”

  “Yeah, actually, I was surprised they don’t.”

  He glanced away. “Is that why you said it? You wanted to please them some more?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then why?”

  “Your grandma’s sick, Dev. If she genuinely doesn’t have much time, then we should do it now rather than later.”

  “I’m not convinced she’s sick.”

  Jia raised an eyebrow. “Way harsh, Dev. That would be taking the meddling auntie shtick a little far, wouldn’t it? No one cares that much.”

  “She does. If I lose the inheritance, the money will revert to my grandfather’s sister—whom my grandmother hates.”

  “Is this will even legal?”

  “Maybe not in America.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want the money. She taught me how to act, I can spot her tells. That was a manipulation tactic, nothing more. What’s your motivation, is the bigger question.”

  “I genuinely think it would be a good idea. It’s what my gut is telling me.” Also, now you’re getting something tangible out of it.

  Another woman might worry that a man had a literal fortune to gain upon their wedding, might think he was marrying her for wealth, but given Dev’s resistance to getting hitched before the deadline, Jia wasn’t too worried about that. The truth was, despite how much Lakshmi had empowered her, she couldn’t banish all her insecurities in a matter of days, and Dev having something to gain from marrying her other than herself actually put her at ease.

  This was a curveball to their plan, but she was going to react to it and adjust and be flexible. This was what she was good at.

  “Has your gut never led you astray?”

  “Not yet, not when I feel like this.”

  He was silent for a beat and her heart sped up, so fast it was like a jackrabbit in her chest. This was a weird, bizarre way to tell someone she had feelings for them, she supposed.

  “You want to . . . marry me?”

  Her heart froze. She stiffened. “You don’t have to say it like that, like it’s absurd. We already said we’d give the engagement a shot.”

  “An engagement is different. An engagement has an out.”

  “I mean, technically, like you said, marriage has an out. Not that I’m going into this expecting a divorce. We can have a prenup. I don’t want your money.”

  “There’ll be no prenup.” Dev hesitated. “I feel like I went from convincing you to you convincing me.”

  “You didn’t have to work too hard to convince me before. I was on board from jump. You’re kind and practical and handsome and generous. The longer we wait, the more rumors there’ll be, the more we’ll have to finagle our families. I’m sick of the drama, let’s just do it.”

  Dev shook his head. “I don’t know if any good marriage started with let’s just do it.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I mean, our engagement started with you saying I wouldn’t mind it.”

  “That bothered you?”

  She pursed her lips. There was no need for him to find out how annoying her insecurities were before they got married, yet she couldn’t lie. “Yeah, it bothered the hell out of me.”

  “I’m sorry. I tried to clarify, it was more than that.”

  “And this is more than that. There’s other reasons to get married tomorrow.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like . . .”

  Tell him.

  The words bubbled up in her throat, and she tried to beat them back. The same spontaneity that he said he liked about her—that had been what had forced her to make that declaration at the dinner table, even though she’d known it would complicate everything. “I like you more than a lot. And . . . what I’ve learned over time is that we don’t have much time. If we want to get married, we should do it now. Even if we didn’t have all these zany factors pushing us together, I’d still say we do it now.”

  The silence dragged on for so long, she almost threw up. She would have, if he hadn’t reached out to hold her hand. Dev moved closer. “I watched all your videos, you know. I couldn’t stop. Perhaps that’s why I feel as though I know you so well.”

  She gave a breathless laugh, flattered. He’d watched all her content? The highest of compliments. “I wish I had a cheat sheet like that for you.”

  Dev stroked his finger over her cheek, the most intimately he’d touched her yet. She stilled, out of fear he would stop. “You knew me before you met me. You read my words.”

  What? She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, you mean your dialogue.”

  “Yes. But I wrote it. I did a lot of the writing for my own character on Kyunki Mere Sanam Ke Liye Kuch Bhi. I wrote some in English. Rohan and Arjun translated the rest from Hindi. Poorly, I might add.”

  “So . . . I was talking to you?”

  “So to speak.”

  It was like a hundred butterflies exploded in her chest. “Dev. You should have told me. Also, I want to throw more milk in Arjun’s face. But this is very romantic.”

  His chuckle was wry. “In a certain light, I suppose.”

  “You’re a good writer! And you’re a romantic. Those were some mushy lines.”

  He ducked his head. “Only on paper, I fear.”

  “You can be mushy in real life, too. That Scrabble win made my heart flutter.”

  Dev lifted her hand to his lips. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Her whole hand tingled. What would it feel like when they kissed for real?

  His thumb played over her knuckles, like he knew. “Jia?”

  “Yes.”

  “We can’t get married right now.”

  His words were a splash of cold water, halting all tingling. “What?” She pressed her hands against his chest, and he backed up. “You’re going to say all those beautiful things and then reject me?”

  “I’m not rejecting you.” His chest rose and fell. “I realized what’s been bothering me.”

  “What?”

&nbs
p; He grimaced. “This feels like blackmail. Like you have no choice but to be engaged to me or marry me, because you don’t want your family to find out about everything that’s gone on. I don’t want that, not for either of us.”

  She struggled to speak. “So that’s your objection? Your only hesitation.”

  “Yes. Are you annoyed? You sound annoyed.”

  “Oh, I’m annoyed, that you think I don’t know my own mind. I wouldn’t tie myself to somebody for life, just to please my parents.”

  “I’ve known many people who would do exactly that.”

  She pursed her lips and tried to think. Be fair. He didn’t know that this was the new and improved Jia, one who was focused on her own happiness. “So if that concern was gone, if you knew I wasn’t doing this to keep my parents from finding out about the catfishing, we could get married tomorrow?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Yes or no.”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded, still annoyed. “Cool. Move aside.” Jia stalked past him and jerked open the door.

  Everyone in the room stopped talking when she walked in. The heroine stands in the spotlight, about to make her grand gesture for her fiancé. This went against everything she’d wanted her whole life. Her family would never respect her after this.

  But she wasn’t about to have Dev thinking he was blackmailing her into marriage. Some things were more important than her parent’s approval. “Everyone, I have to confess something. I was cat—”

  “Burgled,” Dev said loudly, stepping in front of her. She tried to move around him, and he nudged her back.

  Her dad shook his head. “What?”

  “Someone . . . stole Jia’s earrings from her, and she was worried about telling you, that it would make her look irresponsible.”

  Farzana scratched her cheek. “Which earrings?”

  What. A. Weirdo.

  A positively endearing weirdo. Jia raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you remember which earrings, Dev, because I don’t.”

  Her fiancé swallowed. For all that he was an actor, he was terrible at improv. “The diamond ones.”

  “Jia, the ones Noor gave you?”

  She tossed up her hands. “Sure.”

  Farzana tsked. “Well, that’s terrible, but it’s not your fault. And I’m not sure why you’re bringing it up now.”

  “Me neither,” she muttered.

  Farzana turned to Shweta. “We were just telling your grandmother, Dev, that while we appreciate her situation, we don’t want Jia to feel pressured—”

  “And I was explaining to Jia’s parents that elders should be present at a wedding to give their blessings, and I’m not sure I will be healthy enough to travel to America again over the next couple months.”

  Farzana gritted her teeth. “And I was explaining back that I empathize. Were it me, I would want to know that my children were taken care of. But we want a big wedding for our daughter, and this isn’t something to rush.”

  Funny how taken care of and married were one and the same in both women’s playbooks but Jia couldn’t afford to be distracted. “I appreciate you wanting to protect me, but I want to marry Dev.”

  “And I wish to marry her,” Dev said quietly. “At the time of her choosing, whether it’s tomorrow or six months from now.”

  “Well.” Adil gave them a kind, encouraging smile, and Jia automatically smiled back. She was looking forward to getting a loving live-in uncle. “It sounds like you both have made up your minds.”

  “Unmake them up.” Farzana raised her fingers and counted off. “We don’t know you well enough, Dev. We have no proper clothes, no time to plan a party, and your other sisters aren’t even here, Jia.”

  Jia bit her lip. Her older sisters missing this was painful, but . . . “Only Noor and Zara had big fancy weddings, it’s not like it’s family tradition. I have a huge closet and my roommates can bring clothes for Ayesha and me, and Daddy has his suit. Sadia, Noor, and Zara can call in.”

  “It would only be a civil ceremony?” Her mother spat out the words like they left a bad taste in her mouth.

  “Sadia’s had two of those by now,” she reminded her mother. Zara’s husband was Christian, and they’d had a small mixed wedding as well. This wasn’t breaking any new ground in her family, in that sense.

  Dev shifted. “I would be fine with a religious ceremony, if Jia would prefer that.”

  Farzana tossed up her hands. “And where on earth would we get someone to perform that on such short notice?”

  Shweta took a sip of her wine. “I apologize for my presumptuousness, but I did look into that and have spoken to the local imam. He is happy to assist. I also took care of some of the more boring paperwork.”

  Jia imagined Shweta had only had to think of what she wanted for people to fall all over themselves to accommodate her. Did she have a Hindu priest and a civil servant on standby, too? “Lots of people do the nikah low-key. We can have a big fancy party later.”

  “Such a practical girl you are, Jia. Yes, I promise, we will have the biggest and fanciest wedding at a later date, in a leisurely manner,” Shweta said with approval. “We will invite thousands. Have one here, and another in India, so all our contacts can come.”

  Adil cleared his throat. “If it is in India, Jia’s whole family may not be able to attend,” he reminded Shweta. “A neutral place may be preferable.”

  She shrugged. “Dubai, then.”

  Farzana paused, and Jia could see the stars forming in her eyes. “Thousands?”

  “Thousands,” Mohammad repeated, weaker, probably thinking of the cost.

  “Everybody who is anybody will come for my first grandson’s wedding. Of course, I will pay for it all.” Shweta waved that worry away.

  “See?” Jia raised her hands. “All set.”

  “Not all set.” Farzana took a deep breath and pulled out her trump card. “What will people say?”

  The words landed in the quiet room with the gravity of a thousand aunties whispering the same thing. Jia’s smile was slow. Freedom ran through her veins, and independence made her heart sing.

  I had two options: I could be miserable and live my life as others wanted me to, or I could be happy and do what I wanted.

  “I don’t care,” she said crisply, and her mother reared back like she’d been stabbed.

  “Exactly that,” Shweta said. “Dixits create our own narrative. We will say it is a love match, and Dev wished for his poor grandmother to witness the union. No one will question this.”

  Her mother gritted her teeth. “Ayesha. Talk some sense into your sister.”

  Ayesha leaned forward, her eyes big. “Jia, are you sure?”

  “Very.”

  Ayesha sat back. “Okay.”

  “That’s all you can say?” Farzana asked her daughter.

  Jia tensed. Jia is too much. Jia is a lot.

  “She’s being sensible.” Ayesha took a sip of her water. “She’s got a gut feeling if she’s this certain. Her gut is always right.”

  Warmth spread through Jia. She hadn’t really thought her sister would betray her in front of their parents, but this was nice confirmation.

  Farzana pressed her lips together and crossed her arms over her chest, momentarily outnumbered. “Humph.”

  Shweta rubbed her hands together briskly. “Now, let’s start getting plans together for a celebration tomorrow, eh? Adil, we will have to come up with the perfect menu.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  DEV FOUND Shweta in her small office, and he entered without waiting for permission. He sat across from the desk and gazed at the top of his grandmother’s head. There was a slight bald patch forming at the crown there that he’d never noticed. She lifted her head and peered at him over her glasses. “Stop,” she barked.

  “Stop what?”

  “Staring at me.”

  “I’m merely trying to figure out what your game is. First of all, are you really sick?”

  “I have some blo
ckages in my arteries, the doctor says.”

  Another jolt of that worry and unease, at the thought of his indomitable grandmother being ill. He had complicated feelings about his brother’s and grandfather’s deaths. They’d be multiplied tenfold for Aji. “What does that mean? Are you actually dying?”

  She played with her pen, then set it down. “Not exactly. It’s manageable with medicine and diet.” She pouted. “They want me to go vegetarian, can you imagine?”

  Dev heaved a sigh of relief and made a mental note to talk to Adil about tasty vegetarian meals for her. “You can’t lie about this stuff. You made it sound like you were expiring on the spot.”

  Shweta made an unbothered noise. “I do what I need to do.”

  “Can I ask you something? Why are you so determined to see me married before the deadline? I told you I don’t care about the money—”

  “I care.” Her soft words cut him off quicker than a shout would have. “I have tried to break that will, and I cannot. And if you don’t get money, Luna doesn’t get any money, and I won’t have that. I can leave you what’s mine, but you deserve his money as well.” Shweta shook her head, and he was shocked to see tears shining in her eyes. “He kept my son and you and Rohan from me all those years. I won’t let him rob you of your birthright.”

  “You . . .” Dev leaned forward in his chair. “Wait, did you say he did? Like you had no part in disowning my parents?” He regretted the words as soon as he said them. One of the silent understandings of their relationship was that they didn’t talk about the past. “Never mind.”

  She blinked rapidly. “No. No, let me clear something up. What say did you think I had in that house? Your grandfather sent my baby boy away, and kept my grandsons from me as well, and then your parents died there, far from me. You were so grown-up and distant when you came back. I had a chance with Rohan so I gave him as much money as I could, trying to make up for everything. And even that was wrong, because all it did was spoil him, like it spoiled . . .” She took a deep breath and looked back at her computer. It was a credit to her years of acting that she was able to recover her composure so quickly. She typed something on her keyboard and then closed her laptop. “The lawyers will have the prenup ready by morning.”