Chapter 20 Deepak

Chapter 20 Deepak

DEEPAK: Any news?

SANA: It's official. She hates you. But do you blame her? It's obvious that she was a means to an end.

DEEPAK: Hold up. Unfair to be judged when you don't know the arrangement we had when we first got engaged.

SANA: Olivia has told me a lot. Who do you think held her phone during her last "get ready with me" video? Look, I'll let you know

if anything changes.

DEEPAK: Thanks, Sana.

SANA: You're welcome.

SANA: How is she doing?

DEEPAK: She's perfect. Just like she's always been.

SANA: Yeah, you really need to work on how you show people that you appreciate them.

***

PREM: How is it going?

DEEPAK: I am going to crawl out of my skin.

PREM: That bad, huh?

DEEPAK: I'm giving her space so she can make the next move.

PREM: Have you thought about showing her that you care about her? That you think of her as more than a friend now, and that you

don't regret marrying her?

DEEPAK: I mean, it's implied.

PREM: I thought you were smart, Deepak.

Deepak walked through the second level of his home, waiting for Veera to finish getting dressed so they could head out to dinner. When he saw the colorful dishes in the sink, dishes that he hadn't owned a few weeks ago, he quickly rinsed them and stacked them neatly in the dishwasher.

He then wiped his hands on the tea towels that had a picture of a cat holding a coffee cup, and a fall-colored scarf, before

cutting through the living room.

Somehow, Veera had managed to add clutter here as well. Brightly colored throw pillows and blankets covered his minimalist-design

brown leather couch.

Her things were always in the way, breaking up the aesthetic clean lines of his home. He picked up a bottle of her hand lotion

from the coffee table and uncapped it to take a sniff. The eucalyptus and mint smelled like her skin, and he smiled at the

familiarity of it as he recapped the container. He then put the lotion into a small basket he'd left for her at the base of

the stairs. Earlier that day he had added her AirPods and a book that she'd left next to the range.

There were also cords and charging cables everywhere. She had a laptop sitting on the dining table, a phone charger in the

kitchen, another draped over the side table and dangling against the arm of the sofa, plus a set of old-fashioned wired earbuds

draped over the banister leading upstairs.

As much as he preferred an orderly space, he didn't mind Veera's clutter as much as he thought he would. It was a sign that

she was there in the house, and it was oddly... comforting.

Deepak glanced at his wrist and noted the time. He had an appointment that he couldn't do alone.

He walked to the base of the stairs and was consumed with a hum of sexual attraction as he thought about approaching Veera's

door.

"Vee? We're going to be late!"

Just as he finished shouting, the sound of a door opening echoed through the stairwell.

"Sorry," Veera called back. "I was wrapping up a few things before I had to get ready." She appeared at the top of the stairs

in a simple pair of blue jeans and a navy sweater that was perfect for October weather.

He looked down at his tailored slacks, button-down shirt, and fitted sport coat. The words were out of Deepak's mouth before he could stop himself. "Are you sure you want to wear that for tonight?"

Veera froze, her hands pausing on the mangalsutra she'd been in the process of adjusting around her neck. Her face was a study

in shock. "Excuse me?" Her tone was arctic.

"I'm so sorry," he stuttered. He climbed the stairs so he could stand on the landing next to her. He held his hands up as

if he were already surrendering. "It's not that you don't look beautiful in everything you wear—"

"I know," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. The muscle in her jaw ticked. "You know it hurts my feelings when you

don't say nice things about my clothes, right?"

"Veera, Bunty is probably proposing, and I know there are going to be pictures."

The icy expression melted into shock, then unfiltered joy.

"Oh my god!" she squealed. "That's amazing! Bunty is finally proposing!" She jumped him, and he wrapped her up in a hug and

swung her around in a circle. When he put her back down, she scrambled away just as quickly.

"Wait a minute," she said, ignorant of how much he craved more of her touch. "I thought we were taking everyone out to dinner

to thank them for their help with the wedding reception?"

Deepak nodded. "We were, but Bunty said that a thank-you dinner was the cover story he needed to surprise Bobbi with a proposal.

He told Prem and I last night that he's taking Bobbi out today for a romantic date where he'll pop the question." He motioned

to his suit. "And now we're all getting dressed up."

Veera rested her hands on her hips. "I mean, obviously she's going to say yes."

"Obviously."

"And Bunty told you this last night?"

"Yes. And Prem. Who I think probably told Kareena today."

"But Kareena never told me," she said, unable to hide the hurt in her voice.

He cleared his throat. "I think Bunty's exact words were ‘tell your partners' when we ended the call." Then he winced.

Her sorrowful expression faded just as quickly, and he was beginning to get whiplash from the series of emotions that she

was experiencing.

"Why did you wait until this exact moment to tell me?" she told him. She folded her arms over her chest again.

"Probably because I thought you were going to hear it from Kareena?"

She thought about it for a second, then shrugged. "You're forgiven. My friend is getting engaged today and that's all that

matters. Since we're running late, you have to help me figure out what I am supposed to wear."

Veera walked back into her room. From his vantage point on the landing, he could see that her bed was still unmade. He made

a beeline straight for the left side of the mattress. He'd folded his first hospital corner before Veera returned from the

closet. She looked down at the bed, and then back at his face.

"Deepak," she said. "I'm just going to mess up the sheets again. You don't have to make the bed."

He was half erect at the mention of a messed-up bed and visions of Veera naked. He slowly straightened. "If you want to make

it out tonight, then it's probably a good idea to avoid mentioning your bed or messing up the sheets."

Veera's jaw dropped. "Deepak!"

"Brat," he said coolly. He kept his gaze locked with hers as he adjusted himself. "Just show me what you're wearing."

Her cheeks were adorably flushed, but she held three demure dresses, all perfect examples of funeral attire, against her collarbone.

"Nope."

"Well, we don't have a lot of time," she said. "In a fit of rage after I was let go, I got rid of most of my pantsuits. This

is what I have left."

He straightened. "What? You loved your pantsuit collection." Was that why he hadn't seen any of them since she'd come back

to New York? He'd assumed it was because she wasn't in an office anymore or that she just hadn't had time to take them out

of her closet yet. She'd had so many that were tailored for her body, cut close to her narrow shoulders, fit against her waist,

tapered at her angles, that he'd started to mentally keep track of which ones he'd loved the most.

"You're right, I did love my pantsuits, but I was mad, and I took it out on designer fabrics."

For her to get rid of something that was so intimately tied to the career she'd been forced out of was painful to hear. "Do

you need new clothes?"

He wanted to fix this for her, to give her back something that she'd lost. He reached in his back pocket and pulled out his

black Amex.

"Keep this with you. Buy whatever you want. Whatever you need."

Veera looked at his outstretched hand and snorted. "Deepak, I was one of your references when you got your black Amex. I already

have my own. Why would I want yours?"

"Because I want to be able to buy clothes for you?" he said.

Veera shook her head. "If this is your idea of romance, it needs work."

He looked down at his card then back at her. He tucked it back into his wallet. "I'm listening."

"If you give me your card, I still have to do the work and buy the clothes," she said. "I'm still the one doing the labor."

"You're my wife, Veera," he said. "I want you to be able to get whatever you want or need without thinking about it, but I

also don't want to make decisions for you."

"Giving me money is still not helpful here."

Veera crossed the room to stand in front of Deepak. She reached up to cup the sides of his neck, the cool contact of her hands

sparking a shudder through his body. She ran her thumb along his jawline, and he met her halfway for a featherlight kiss.

She'd never initiated a kiss between them before, other than the quick hard contact on their flight back from Goa. This one

was different. He touched her hips, bringing her close, desperate for the sweet taste of her mouth, but she was already walking

back toward her closet.

She retrieved a simple black jumpsuit and held it up. "If you'll excuse me, I'm just going to get changed and then we can

go."

"Let's stay in, and—"

"Not a chance," she said. "We're celebrating our friends!"

He pressed his lips together and turned to leave. But when he reached the door, he called her name. "Vee?"

She startled at the sound of the nickname he'd started to use a few months after they'd met. "Yeah?"

She'd pressed the hanger to her collarbone, her eyes flitted back and forth between him and her reflection.

He should've told her when he found out about the proposal. Instead, he'd been so busy trying to avoid her because of his own feelings.

"Deeps?" Veera said when he continued to stare.

"Nothing. You're beautiful. I'll see you downstairs."

The taxi to the restaurant was mostly in silence, but when they reached the location, Veera hooked an arm through his and

shook her long curling hair back from her shoulders as she led the way through the double doors of Rani's main entrance.

The wedding bangles his mother had given her rested against his coat sleeve. For someone who didn't believe that they had

a real wedding, she'd still followed every tradition.

That thought continued to brew in the back of his mind as he pulled open the door to Rani's. Veera stepped through the opening

first but came to a halt a few feet into the entryway. Deepak almost careened into her back.

"What's wrong, why did you... holy shit."

The restaurant had been transformed into a Punjabi village courtyard. There was a potted tree in the center of the room. Around

it was a stone seat that circled the base. In the corner was the infamous jhoola with the iron support beams wrapped in marigold

garlands. Stretching from the base of the tree toward the front door was a long table for a little over sixteen guests.

Deepak recognized Bobbi's uncle, aunt, and cousin. They were all talking to Bunty's father, mother, brother, and sister near

the makeshift bar that was situated in front of a scenic painted backdrop covering the far wall. The picture was a delicate

oil-on-canvas work of mustard fields at sunrise.

"This is incredible," Veera whispered. "Did you know about this?"

"Not at all, but maybe Kareena and Prem did," he replied, as he touched the small of her back. "It looks like they're here, too."

Kareena was the first to cross the room, her slim-fit emerald gown swirling around her calves over chunky block heels.

"Isn't this amazing?" she said, her smile infectious. "Bunty apparently hired Bobbi's best decorator to pull this off today."

She held out her arms and hugged Veera first. "You look so chic. I love how you complement each other so well. Sexy power

couple."

Veera gripped Kareena's hands and in a low tone said, "When did Prem tell you that Bunty was going to propose?"

"Last night," she said, a grin still plastered across her face. "I was bubbling all day."

Veera's voice dropped an octave. "Kareena, why didn't you call me to tell me?"

Her smile slipped, her eyebrows V-ed. Then she looked over Veera's shoulder at Deepak. "Because I thought Deepak was supposed

to tell you?"

"Yeah, if we were really married," she said softly.

"We are," Deepak said. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He leaned between Kareena and Veera and

pointed a finger at Veera. "She is my wife."

Kareena raised an eyebrow, almost identical to the way Veera did. "Well then, you should be keeping her informed."

Ouch.

He had been appropriately chided, Deepak thought. He took a step back. "As you were." Then he escaped the two friends and

made a beeline for the bar.

"You look like you could use a drink," Prem said. He leaned back against the bar ledge.

"Shut up," Deepak replied. With whatever subtlety he could manage, he shoved his chuckling friend aside, and ordered a whiskey sour and a whiskey neat from the bartender.

Prem motioned to Kareena and Veera who were still talking in the corner. He made another vague gesture at Bunty's family on

the other side of the room, and at the decor that brought the space to life. "Can you believe it? All three of us hitched.

I never thought this would happen."

Deepak didn't respond.

"What?" Prem said, his tone growing serious. "What happened?"

"Vee called our marriage fake again," he admitted. "I'm realizing that we're just ignoring the chemistry we have, clinging

to our friendship in hopes that sex doesn't fuck things up. But our relationship has already changed."

Prem threw back the rest of his drink and placed it on the bar. "Brother, you need to figure out how you want this to end."

"I just told you," he said. "It's complicated. Friendship makes everything more complicated."

"Yeah? Wait until you fall in love. Then your situation will be a real bitch." He patted Deepak before pushing away from the

bar to meet Bunty's father, who had been heading toward them, hand outstretched in greeting.

Deepak felt like he'd just been sucker punched. He'd never thought of the L word. He'd just been trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he liked being married to Veera. But love?

No, he thought. He wasn't ready for that yet. He knew that he wanted her, that he respected her, and that she was the woman

he'd choose from the start if he had a second chance. But what part of his feelings for Veera was from before their wedding

and what part was influenced by the fact that they were already married, and everyone kept telling them how great they looked

together?

Hell, he still wasn't sure if Veera could forgive him for his role in fucking up the career that she cherished. Once the board meeting was over, and their fake marriage served its purpose, she could very well want to leave him and fall in love with someone else.

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

Deepak picked up the two glasses that had been placed on the bar top in front of him, tipped the waitstaff, and then carried

the whiskey over to Veera and Kareena. Without another word, he passed Veera the whiskey sour. He felt the soft brush of her

fingertips against his as she gripped the glass. She didn't look in his direction as she tipped her drink toward him. In reflex,

he did the same. Their glasses clinked together.

They both sipped at the same time, the ritual centering him more than any words possibly could.

Kareena laughed.

"What?" Veera said. She sounded like she'd been in the middle of a sentence that tapered off in confusion. "What's so funny?"

Kareena pushed her black-framed glasses farther up the bridge of her nose. "Nothing. It's just that you two make a great couple."

Those words again , Deepak thought. Those fucking words.

Someone called Veera's name from across the room. Bobbi's sister was waving at her, then motioning for Veera to come over

to join her near the windows.

"I'll be right back," Veera said, then with a fleeting glance at Deepak, she left him alone with Kareena.

Kareena turned to stand by Deepak's side so they could both look at Veera together. She was giving Bobbi's sister a hug before

she sat on the seat next to her and leaned in to talk. She always did that, Deepak thought. She would get close, her eyes

intent, focused, as if the other person's words were the most important thing to her in that moment.

"You really do make a good couple," Kareena said softly.

Deepak was really beginning to hate when people said that to him. But this was Kareena. This was his wife's best friend, and

she was one of the few people who knew Veera better than anyone else in the world. Instead of walking away, he stayed to find

answers.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

She looked up at him. "Hmm?"

"Why do you think that Veera and I make a good couple? Because we were friends first?"

Kareena cocked her head. "No, that's ridiculous. That implies that every time two people are friends they should consider

a romantic relationship, too."

"Okay, then why?"

"You're just... aware of her. You both are aware of each other. It's like you each anticipate what the other needs and

you both support each other. Even when Prem and I were dating and you were still friends, you used to do that for Veera. You

care for her just like she cares for you. The fact that you're both in sync is incredibly special."

"Kareena, she says the wedding is fake." He couldn't hide his frustration. His confusion.

"God save us from men," Kareena said on a sigh. She leaned in, her heels putting her close to his height. "Deepak?" she whispered

in his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Don't fuck this up. Veera sometimes says what she does to protect her own heart, and if she's trusting you with it, then

you should treat it as an honor."

Heart. Love.

He needed to see a cardiologist. A good one, since his best friend wasn't taking his symptoms seriously.

Kareena winked at him before she gravitated toward Prem who was still talking to Bunty's father. She and Prem always gravitated toward each other.

Deepak wondered what she meant as he glanced at the daybed. His wife was now alone, smiling as she swung back and forth on

the jhoola.

"Fuck it," he mumbled, and crossed the room to be with her, because in a way, he felt like he always gravitated toward her,

too.

When he sat next to her on the jhoola, he used the toe of his Armani loafers to push off the floor. Veera lifted her feet

and let him take over their gentle swinging without a word of protest.

"Hey, I know I said I had my own black Amex, but maybe you can use your card to buy one of these for your house. I love this

thing."

He turned to her and grinned. "Done," he said.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, watching the crowd move and shift as conversation groups began to form.

"Would you have wanted this?" he asked softly. "A proposal, the proposal party, the full Indian wedding?"

She was quiet for a moment, and then she leaned against his side and rested her head on his shoulder. "I guess I wish I had

the proposal part between me and... ah, a partner. Something that was just for us. But I can self-soothe as my therapist

says. I'm excellent at it, actually."

He felt his chest tighten painfully at the thought that his Veera felt like she was missing anything from him.

"I should've stopped the wedding," he said hoarsely. His words were barely over a whisper. "I should've stopped and none of

this would've happened. You should have more than what I can give you, Veera. I stole this from you, and you deserve the excitement

with people you love. The planning and the romance."

She sat up and turned to him, her eyes filled with confusion. "Do you regret it, that—"

Before she could finish, the front door burst open, and the glass pane practically cracked against the wall from the force.

Bunty stepped inside wearing a black kurta, his sleeves rolled up his forearms. Bobbi stood behind him in a red Patiala salwar,

a look of amusement on her face.

Everyone was silent for two whole seconds before Bunty lifted his arms in the air and roared like he'd just won a championship

game.

"I'm getting married!"