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Authors: Simi K. Rao

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BOOK: The Accidental Wife
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“Our family priest says that if I don’t get married within a month, my father will die in a road accident,” she said quite calmly.

“Is that right?”
Damnit!
His head had started to spin. He was losing control. It was unnerving, so he tried to stall. “Don’t your parents wish to speak to mine?”

“They can do so when you and your parents come here for the wedding. My mom and dad have no objections. They love you already!” She smiled. “You
know
you are a dream catch!”

It was the second time he had heard the description and he didn’t like it at all. He probed her eyes carefully on the monitor. She looked sincere enough. There appeared no reason to doubt her statement.

He shrugged it off his mind. He had to take chances in life, at some time or other.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all go without a hitch. My parents are pros at arranging weddings. You won’t have to do a single thing.”

He glanced at his schedule. “Uh, okay… I am long overdue for a vacation. I can try to make it there in a couple of weeks, or so.” He stared back at her, hoping she would develop cold feet.

Not a chance. She agreed right away.

He could have said no and called the whole blasted thing off. But he didn’t. Another girl like her would be hard to come by, and he was already feeling worn out by the entire process.

“So we have a…a date in two weeks or so. I’ll see you soon. Till then, take care,” he muttered with little enthusiasm before signing off.

It was odd, but he wasn’t experiencing any of the excited anticipation that a new bridegroom is supposed to—at least that’s what he’d heard—while he awaited D Day. Instead, Rihaan was filled with a strange dread.

Another thought spiraled in his mind—perhaps he deserved it.

He consoled himself with the good things he had learned about her. His future wife, Deepika, was realistic, mature, and a lot more experienced in these matters than he was. If she could handle the stress, so could he.

The Accidental Wife

The laws of attraction are too potent to be ignored.

R
ihaan was a trustworthy man, though many might consider him cold and businesslike, he never went back on what he said. Well, almost never. Reliability and integrity came second nature to him. And this time was no different. Even though he wasn’t certain of what the future held, he was bound by his word and planned to carry through no matter the consequences.

And since he’d made up his mind, he chose to reveal his intentions to his parents. Besides, he didn’t want to delay the inevitable any longer. They needed time to absorb the shock.

So, on the day after his unofficial online ‘betrothal’ he made a surprise visit to the Mehta family residence. Without preamble he announced in a clear voice, “I’m getting married. Time to celebrate.”

His mother, as he’d guessed she would, immediately dismissed him. “Rihaan, if that’s supposed to be a joke then it is a very bad one.”

“Maa… I’m telling the truth,” Rihaan said. “I’ve found a suitable girl and the deal is set.”

“Really? Is it someone I know?” she asked.

“No. I found her online. She lives in India and is a perfect match.” He managed to speak with conviction even if he didn’t feel it at all.

“Back home? Online? So soon? Are you
mad?
” Shobha looked crestfallen. Her desire of bringing her dear friend’s daughter, Renu, home was clearly crushed. Apparently she had continued to hope, even though the day she had introduced the girl to him, he had failed to react. He hadn’t even blinked, if he recalled correctly!

“No, I’m not mad,” he replied, assisting her to a beautifully upholstered Victorian chair and handing her a glass of water.

He tried to dress his future wife up a bit. “This girl has all the qualities a good wife should possess. She’s incredibly talented. She’s a great cook (though he had no clue if Deepika could even turn the stove on), she paints, sews…everything.” He stopped himself in time before getting carried away, or his mother would definitely become suspicious. “She’s grounded and is pure
desi!
You’ll adore her!”

Shashank suppressed a chuckle and said the only thing that seemed to concern him. “She certainly sounds like a rare gem, Rihaan. What about her family? We’d like to talk to her parents.”

“You don’t have to worry about them, Dad. I’ve checked them out already. They are great, just like their daughter,” Rihaan confirmed quickly. He didn’t want his father to launch into a prolonged investigation.

His mother having recovered a little, smiled fondly at Rihaan. At least he was getting married was probably what she was thinking. “Alright,” she said. “But I wish to see her picture and, I’d also like to know her name.”

“It’s a surprise,” Rihaan said mysteriously. “Just have a little patience and trust me. Next month you’ll get your wish.”

***

Two weeks later Rihaan couldn’t fathom why people got married, least of all why they conducted these ridiculously-long ceremonies. He’d flown into New Delhi earlier than his parents to meet with Deepika before they met her.

What he discovered was that his wedding was utter chaos. It was a nightmarish ordeal which lasted over four days, or a few weeks if he took into account the day his mother had first dangled her sword over his head and coerced him to get married.

He’d hoped to keep matters quiet but that proved impossible. Shobha had made certain that everybody she knew (even the remotest acquaintance) was invited to come and give their blessings to her son and his bride.

Uncle Rajbir had been waiting for him at the airport and apparently had the next few days pretty well chalked out. Rihaan was allowed no say in any matter whatsoever and found himself subject to various rituals and customs that frightened him half to death, almost reducing him to tears.

All his relatives had a field day at his expense. His mother, who along with the rest of his family was caught in a snowstorm in Europe (she’d gone wedding shopping in Paris when every damn thing was available in NYC) seemed to be directing everything by remote control.

Fortunately, his future wife’s family had come to his rescue. He was relieved when he learned they weren’t much into tradition.

On the second day after he landed, Rihaan slipped the ring he’d bought in a hurry at Tiffany’s on Deepika’s finger and she had seemed pleased. In truth, she was more ordinary-looking than he had assumed (makeup can do wonders apparently and pictures can be doctored). Nevertheless, he was content when she assured him with a toothy smile that he’d get exactly what he’d bargained for.

On the third day, she signed her name alongside his in front of a registrar and the deal was official. On the fourth, the whole bloody thing was concluded with a wedding ceremony to please the hearts of all the traditionalists. Unfortunately or fortunately for him, his parents were still missing in action. But they’d watched everything live, thanks to the miracle of high tech and the internet.

And before he knew, it was all over. Rihaan had joined the ranks of hapless and bemused married men.

But somehow it all didn’t quite gel for him. Something had gone wrong, yet he couldn’t put his finger on it.

So when it came time for his wedding night, leaving his cousins and miscellaneous relatives behind to rejoice in drunken revelry, Rihaan headed to the room on the second floor of his uncle’s house specially decorated for the purpose singularly determined to pull the veil off the disquieting mystery—his so-called wife.

He found her on the balcony. “Deepika?” he ventured tentatively.

She stepped out of the shadows.

But the girl who stood in front of him was certainly not the one he thought he’d married,
and
to make matters even worse, she was definitely
not
ordinary-looking.

She was stunning!

Just as his eyes affixed to her face, the wheels of his brain drew to an abrupt halt. What a face it was. That of an enchantress, no less.

Bathed in ethereal moonlight, with dark, wavy hair of shimmering black silk that flirted with her smooth and dewy complexion; regular, well-defined features; huge, luminous eyes that sparkled; lustrous lips, full and moist that curved into a mocking smile and…
brought him crashing back to earth!

Goddamnit!
This was exactly what he had been guarding himself against! This girl, this stranger, had already knocked him off his moorings when he was least prepared for it. Beautiful creatures like her should not be allowed to roam free on the streets, in particular creep unannounced into unsuspecting men’s bedrooms! What was she doing here?

He wrenched himself out of the haze. There wasn’t any way he could afford to be unsettled in his well-planned life. He cleared his throat twice before he found his voice. “You aren’t Deepika. Where is she?”

“Yes, you guessed right,” she spoke in a low soft tone. “I’m not Deepika. She’s gone. I am Naina.” She paused for effect. “Good bye, Rihaan. Nice to have made your acquaintance.”

She turned to slip past him.

He stepped up to bar her way; his reflexes getting their act together before his brain did. “No…wait! How…how can you say she’s gone? She’s my wife for crying out loud!”

She cast a pitiful glance at him.
“Yes, she’s gone.
And no, she’s not your wife. I was the one sitting in the
mandap
. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that already.”

Rihaan closed his eyes. He felt his heart take a free fall to his gut and continue to sink further. What he had fervently hoped to be a delusion of his conscience had turned out to be true. The worm of suspicion had begun to wiggle itself into his psyche as soon as he’d taken his seat beside his future wife on the marriage stage. But he’d ignored it. He realized now, for starters, she looked a lot slimmer than he remembered. He’d rejected the notion quickly, attributing it to some miracle diet drug.

What intrigued him even more was when he noticed her face shrouded in the
ghoonghat
throughout the ceremony. Surprisingly, she had suddenly turned very shy. But when it was time to tie the
mangalsutra
around her neck
and place the vermilion streak on her forehead; he had caught a glimpse of her face and those strikingly luminous eyes, and all his misgivings were confirmed.

Rihaan teetered against the bedpost. He had been thoroughly duped, hoodwinked, ripped off, two-timed, etcetera.

“Are you okay?” Her hand gently gripped his arm, in concern he supposed but she appeared to be laughing silently at him.

“Hell!”
He wrenched his arm away. “This isn’t funny at all!”

She looked chagrined. “I’m sorry. I know you are badly shaken. But Deepika couldn’t think of a better way out.”

“Way out of what?
Anyway, where is she now?”

“I told you. She’s gone.”

Yes, she was gone. But he had too many questions that needed to be answered. And now.

“All right, so she’s gone. But what about her parents? They were there when Deepika and I signed the marriage certificate. Are they involved in this charade as well?”

“No they are not.”

“Then…then why did they not come forward to identify you when they knew you weren’t their daughter? Don’t tell me you fooled them, too.”

Naina offered a wry smile. “Perhaps they didn’t recognize me, or more likely, they chose not to. Perhaps they didn’t come forward because it would cause them dishonor and shame.”

Rihaan could comprehend that. To declare that the bride was not their daughter could mean major loss of face for any parent.

“But why this big farce? Why did Deepika find me through a marriage portal, ask me to come here and sign on the marriage certificate, if all she intended to do was not get married at all! Why?”

The girl who called herself Naina (if that was really her name) looked exasperated. Two flattering spots of red surfaced on her cheeks. Digging into her purse, she pulled out a small notepad, briskly jotted something down and handed it to him. “Here, this is Deepika’s cell. Call and ask her yourself. My job is done. I’m out of here.”

“Job?”
Overcome by an immense fury, he glowered at her. “What job? Do chicks get paid nowadays to do stand-ins at weddings?”

“No, and I don’t do stand-ins!”
She shot back with equal vehemence. “Deepika didn’t pay me a dime! I was just trying to help my friend and I truly regret it. It seemed like a harmless prank. Now I know it was in very bad taste. I apologize sincerely, Rihaan. But really, I have to go now. It’s getting late. Please call her. I’m sure she’ll be expecting to hear from you.” She made another bid for the door.

“Oh no, not so fast sweetheart!” he said, snatching her arm. “Deepika can go to hell as far as I’m concerned. I’ll have nothing to do with spineless selfish cowards who don’t think twice before hurting others. She has betrayed my trust…and
you…,”
he shoved her roughly onto the bed,
“…my
‘Accidental Wife’ will supply me with the explanation I deserve.”

For the very first time since they’d met those gorgeous eyes looked nervous. “It’s a very long story…”

Rihaan pulled a chair in front of the door and settled himself comfortably in it. “I have all night to listen.”

BOOK: The Accidental Wife
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