Rebel Hard (Hard Play #2)(76)

“This one!” Anjali cried. “Lord, Madhuri. You’re going to knock Sandesh’s eyes out.”

When her sister looked toward Nayna, Nayna got up and took her hands, just shook her head at Madhuri’s loveliness. “You know you’re going to look beautiful in everything,” she said, well aware where this was going. That, however, didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be the little sister who messed with Madhuri. “Maybe narrow down the color range?”

“Are you kidding?” Madhuri put her fisted hands on her hips. “I’m not narrowing down anything!”

Five outfits later—all of them stunning, with Madhuri a vision of beauty in every single one, ísa picked up a sweet and said, “I see what you mean.” She took a bite of the crumbly white barfi, the taste for which she’d picked up over the years while hanging out with Nayna. “I think I’m going to put on five kilos by the time she’s done.”

Nayna snorted. “You’re still thinking too small.” Swallowing the last of a peda that appeared to have condensed milk in it, she said, “Ten kilos.”

ísa’s shoulders shook, and the two of them shared a laugh before they returned their attention to the next catwalk appearance by Madhuri.

After trying on every single one of the suits, Madhuri began to try on the saris—and ísa slipped halfway down her seat as if melting into a puddle. Nayna’s grandmother and Madhuri’s friends all laughed, as did Nayna.

Poking her head out of the changing room where their mother was putting her into a sari, Madhuri said, “What’s so funny?”

“I’m trying to slide into another time and dimension where you actually choose a garment before midnight!” ísa called out.

“Just you wait until it’s your turn. I’ll be the one calling time,” Madhuri threatened, but the response was lighthearted. Madhuri had been missing for a large chunk of Nayna’s and ísa’s teenage years. And ísa was deeply loyal and fiercely on Nayna’s side. As a result, she’d always looked askance at Madhuri. However, because they both loved Nayna, the two had come to an accord that allowed such jokes.

“Okay.” Nayna’s mother bustled out and took a standing position on the other side of the chairs, her face glowing. “Madhuri, we’re ready!”

Madhuri stepped out. And the entire room went silent.

Of a luminous shade of gold with a thick gold-on-gold border, the sari caressed Madhuri like a lover without being the least bit indecent. It shimmered like it was lightning given form despite being heavy with embroidery and glittering crystals.

The premade blouse that came with it echoed the embroidered border and fit Madhuri nearly perfectly. A little more taking in at the sides and it would be an absolutely perfect fit. It had a scoop neck and a simple back, but the way the sari draped over everything, the exquisite work on it…

Nayna pressed a hand to her heart, her throat thick. “You are so beautiful,” she whispered.

Beside Madhuri, their mother was crying. Madhuri’s own eyes shone wetly before she took their mum into her arms. “I can’t believe I’m going to wear a sari to my wedding,” she blubbered out. “God, it’s so traditional.” Despite her attempt to sound disgusted, it came out delighted and slightly shocked.

But there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that this was the one. It took Madhuri’s beauty and turned it transcendent. She looked as if she’d stepped out of another time, an Indian princess ready for her prince. Nayna wouldn’t be surprised if her sister’s wedding photos ended up in a magazine somewhere. Especially as Madhuri had—by working her contacts—found an award-winning photographer to record the event.

When the shop owner finally found his voice again, he tried to steer Madhuri toward the section that sold twenty-two-karat-gold jewelry, but she was having none of it.

“I’ll be wearing my mother’s, my nani’s, and my aji’s jewelry,” she said with a deep smile aimed at Aji and their mother. Their maternal grandmother, their nani, had passed on, but she’d left her jewelry to her daughter, and so Madhuri would wear both families’ histories when she walked to her groom.

Aji dabbed at her eyes while Shilpa Sharma continued to sniffle. Nayna got up and hugged both her mother and sister at once.

“I’m so happy for you, Maddie.” Pulling back, she cupped her sister’s face in her hands and smiled. This, she thought, this was the relationship they would have now.

As adults in charge of their own destinies.

No resentments, no shadows of the past. They were forging into the future in different directions, each choosing her own path but always family, always sisters.

“Ninu,” Madhuri whispered in her ear after the tears had passed, “how much has Anjali had to drink? I’m sure she just muttered something about the offspring of a buffalo.”





39





Broken Hearts Can Be Mended





It was eleven o’clock at night by the time Nayna finally returned home. She’d offered to take Anjali home, but Madhuri had said she’d look after her friend. Nayna had helped out by parking Anjali’s car in the bridal boutique’s private back lot for Anjali to pick up when she was sober. She and ísa had still been giggling over Anjali’s repertoire of badly translated insults when they pulled out of the lot in Nayna’s car.