Chapter 9 Veera

Chapter 9 Veera

Text messages from two years and one month ago:

DEEPAK: Hey, weird question.

VEERA: I always say, the weirder the better.

DEEPAK: Good.

DEEPAK: There is this lecture at Columbia I want to go to. It's a leadership seminar. A bit of a snooze fest, honestly. It's just

that I don't want to go alone, and our friends are yet again busy.

VEERA: When is it?

DEEPAK: Ah, today? You free?

VEERA: Pathetically, I am. My plans included watching cat videos, reading a romance novel, and wearing a snuggie all day.

DEEPAK: Yikes, no competition. The snuggie wins.

VEERA: But I need the exercise, and I'd feel bad if you were standing in a corner alone with, like, your red Solo cup. Let me know

when you want to meet.

Veera realized that she wasn't prepared for marriage. There were no classes on it in college, no rule book for relationships

that told her in a step-by-step process what she was supposed to do as a South Asian woman marrying a South Asian man. She

was sort of ejected into a whole new world.

Kind of like adulthood. No one had prepared her for that, either. One day, she just had to learn how to write a check and

stand up to manspreaders on the subway. Hopefully, she'd learn about marriage the same way.

She looked at the chaos in Deepak's guest bedroom and let out a frustrated huff. She'd only been at the house for one night,

and it was already a mess. After their group meeting, she'd realized that she needed a few things from her storage unit after

all. Then, she'd made the mistake of asking Deepak, Prem, and Benjamin for help. They neglected her specific instructions

to grab the box that read "winter clothing" and instead brought in everything she owned, including her favorite armchair and

her small sofa that was currently positioned in her en suite sitting area.

She was now forced to think of Deepak's gorgeous home as her home, too.

If she could just make sense of it all. Maybe coffee would help. Deepak's fancy coffee machine made the best coffee she'd

ever tasted and that would most likely get her through her morning plans to organize and unpack.

"Veera?" Deepak called from the hall. "I'm going to head to the office. Do you have everything you need?"

"No, you're not allowed in here!" she shouted when she heard his footsteps approaching her room. She flung herself in the doorway before he could step inside.

He stopped inches from her, his eyebrow twitching when he took in the mess over her head. "Wow, um, okay."

Veera took a subtle sniff, settling into the lush smell of his aftershave he'd used on the sharp underside of his jaw. He

was dressed in another one of his delicious charcoal suits that he loved. The lines of the outfit fit to perfection.

"Vee, what happened?"

Shit, he's talking about the room, right? I think he's talking about the room.

"I know you hate disorganization, but I promise by the time you get back from work, you won't have to look at any of this.

It'll all be put away and color coded just the way you enjoy it."

He smiled. "You and I both know that's not going to happen, but I appreciate you trying." He glanced at his watch and his

expression faded to a grimace.

"What time is the board meeting?" she asked gently.

"Eight thirty. After the press release, along with all the responses from the WhatsApp auntie group, I have a feeling this

is not going to be a friendly meeting."

"It's better than the alternative," Veera said.

"Which is?"

"Ignoring your public breakup and convincing the board to trust a single Desi man."

Deepak nodded. "Maybe I'll lead by asking them to our wedding reception."

Veera reached out to touch his tie, then pulled her hand back before she made contact. "Are you going to tell them today that

I was consulting for you?"

He nodded, then in an unfamiliar gesture, Deepak brushed a strand of hair off her neck.

She had to bite back a shiver. The casual touch was friendly, that's all. She had been contemplating the same type of touch

with the tie.

"When we see my father and my mom on Friday," he continued, "you can tell Dad about your consulting work then."

"Great," she said, letting out a deep breath. "I'll work on a pitch this week. With the very little time I have to prep, I'm

just going to have to hope your father likes an earnest pitch." Veera acted on impulse and patted him on the shoulder. "Knock

them dead... uh, husband."

"We're going to have to work on that," Deepak said. His chest rumbled under her lingering fingertips. "Is there something

in Punjabi you can call me instead?"

Veera grinned. "You know Punjabis prefer to swear at each other as a sign of love."

"True," Deepak said. Then he took her hands in his and turned them so that her palms were facing upward. Her mehndi was still

a dark burgundy and would probably stay that color for another few days before it began to fade.

Veera's breath hitched as his thumb smoothed over her wrist tattoo that was artfully incorporated into the designs. Her red

chuda clinked as he nudged them out of the way. Then she waited, as he paused at the small Hindi script right below the tattoo.

It was his name.

One of the age-old romantic customs in a Punjabi Hindu ceremony was to hide the groom's name or initials in the mehndi design

for him to find before the first wedding night was over. She'd agreed to it out of a fantasy, wistfulness, really. But now

she wondered if it was the right decision.

Before she could pull away, Deepak leaned down and pressed a kiss right over his name. The soft pressure of his lips left a lingering imprint on her skin. Her pulse jumped, and his thumb delicately traced over its beat.

Then he stepped back and winked at her. "See you tonight, wifey."

The gesture was so uncharacteristic of him that she immediately felt her cheeks heat in response. She was still holding her

wrist where she'd felt his lips when she heard the soft ding of the alarm letting her know that the front door had opened

and closed three floors below her.

Veera turned around and faced her room with her fists propped on her hips. She was tempted to just dive on top of her pile

of clothes in the middle of her bed, pull out the latest romance novel that she had downloaded, and read so she could get

out of her head. She needed to shut her brain off, to decompress after all the madness.

"Marriage is like adulting," she said to herself. "You can do this."

The queasiness that hadn't gone away since the moment she'd gotten fake married grew stronger as she began organizing her

things in the en suite bathroom first. She thought about Bobbi and Kareena who had been so helpful. Then she thought of her

sister whom she'd texted the night before.

It was probably late afternoon where Sana was.

Even as she thought of her sister, her phone pinged with an incoming message. She picked it up and turned on speakerphone.

"Twin-tuition?"

"Yup," Sana said. "What are you doing, Mrs. Datta?"

"Ha ha," she said. "Just tell me you have some good news."

"Good and bad," Sana said slowly. "I talked to Mom. She was asking all these probing questions about you and Deepak."

Veera froze. "Oh my god, please don't tell me you—"

"I didn't tell her," Sana said quickly. "She thinks your marriage is very real. Then she asked me where I was, and I said

that I was going to see Olivia."

Veera sank to the edge of her bed, then picked up a discarded sweater. She squeezed it between her fingers like a stress ball.

"What did she say?"

"She didn't say anything really. Our conversation was quick because I had to hang up. I was heading back to England, and the

station called for my train."

Veera felt like she was experiencing a serious case of whiplash. "Wait a minute, what happened to visiting Olivia in Scotland?"

"She's now with friends in Manchester. I just arrived this morning."

"Sana, you have to make this work, otherwise Deepak may lose his chance of securing the CEO position. Get Olivia to come back

for the board vote. Please."

"I know, I know," Sana murmured. "But maybe this is a good thing for him. We were literally fired because we were his competition."

"He works really hard for Illyria," Veera said. "It's in his blood."

"And the Mathur Financial Group was in our blood, too."

Veera pushed her sweater aside. Her sister's voice was filled with familiar pain, and she hated how much it hurt her to hear

Sana that way. "I thought we were done with feeling bitter about what happened to us."

There was a long stretch of silence on the other end of the phone. "I should've known you'd be like this. It's only been a

few days since Deepak is back in your life. Are you seriously defending him again?"

Veera pinched the bridge of her nose. She loved Sana, and she knew that this unshakable loyalty to her was a gift. Sana had made up her mind about Deepak, and her feelings were going to make this whole situation so much more complicated. "Can we not fight about this, please?"

"I wanted to lead my family's company with my sister by my side," Sana continued. "But my family doesn't value us beyond who

we can marry. Not only are our parents incredibly sexist, but we're in finance. We aren't worth more than what we can do for

men."

Veera didn't know what to say. It was so easy for her to feel just as bitter. No one had bothered to come out and support

her when she was told to take the severance package. Now that she was fake married, it was as if her value had gone up and

everyone was invested again.

"We're just going to have to trust Deepak," she finally said. "This was your idea, too, remember?"

Sana snorted. "No, you're going to have to trust Deepak. I'm just going to trust my instincts like I always have. Then I am going to do what I have

to so I can protect you, too. Look, I have to go. I'm meeting a potential contract employer—Antonia; she's in the sea trade

business—for drinks tonight since I'm here and I'm killing time until Olivia is willing to hear me out."

"Sana—"

"What is it?" The words were clipped, and short. Sana's control on her temper was beginning to fray.

Veera let out a sigh. "Nothing. Just be careful."

"I will," Sana said. "And you, too. I'm just chancing my ego, but your heart is now on the line again."

Before she could say anything else, Sana hung up, leaving Veera alone in silence.

She remembered calling Sana from the bathroom stall of Kareena's wedding reception. Veera had crumpled at the news of Deepak's pending engagement with Olivia Gupta, and her mother and Deepak's mother discussing the potential merger of their companies. That's when Sana had immediately purchased a ticket to come home. She'd been Veera's rock in that moment.

Now Veera was on her own. Except she was stronger now than she'd ever been. She'd reinforced the broken parts of herself with

titanium will. If she had to be her sister's strength, she could do it. No, she would do it.

Before she could get up and return to her bathroom reorganization, the door chime rang from the hallway. She went to the intercom,

the same type that was located on each floor, and tapped the screen.

She was horrified when she saw four familiar faces looking back at her.

"Aunties?"

"Surprise!" they said in unison, and they leaned close enough to the screen for Veera to see up their nostrils to the gold

tips of their nose rings.

There was Mona Auntie with her perfect blowout. Then there was Falguni Auntie in her velour tracksuit. She had switched out

her Crocs for some sensible white sneakers today that matched the streak of white at her temples. Farah Auntie, with her white

wire-rimmed glasses and her laptop backpack, stood off to the side, and then there was Sonali Auntie.

"We've come to bless your house," Sonali Auntie said, adjusting her dupatta over her head. "We need to make sure that you're

not living together like hedonistic white people."