Accidentally Engaged(76)
“I stopped at the store. I think you’ll need this,” Saira said as she walked in.
Damn. Saira had more bad news. Hopefully not devastatingly bad, because Reena was pretty sure that nonfat fro-yo and cold-pressed juice wouldn’t have the self-medicating properties she’d need.
“What did you learn?”
“Let’s dish this out first,” Saira said.
Unexpectedly, the ice cream substitute didn’t taste terrible, and the dark chocolate flavor went well with the sour cherry juice.
“Okay,” Saira started once they were settled on the couch. “I asked Rish to ask her cousin. Apparently, they’re not fighting anymore. Remember I said her cousin was obsessed with this socialite?”
“Vaguely.” In all honesty, she didn’t remember the convoluted tale Saira had told.
“Well, that socialite is Jasmine Shah. And yep. The fiancé who left her in Egypt was Nadim.”
Relief spread through Reena’s shoulders. If he had dumped her in Egypt it meant they weren’t engaged now. But why did he hide this from her?
“So, he wasn’t engaged when I met him.”
“Not so fast, sis, there’s more. As I said, the cousin doesn’t really know Jasmine well, but she pretends they’re real tight. She was posting screenshots of Jasmine’s Instagram on the family WhatsApp. Rish was able to get some of the screenshots.” She handed Reena her phone.
Reena scrolled through the pictures. Nothing interesting here, basic Instagram pictures of an immaculately styled Jasmine. She recognized the one in London from that article.
“Read the hashtags, Reena.”
Reena did. #engagedlife. #marryingmybestfriend. #travelwithmylove.
Reena exhaled. “So, she is engaged.”
Saira shrugged. “The last screenshot is from about a month ago. That seems to be when she deleted her account.”
About a month ago was before Reena and Nadim started dating. If the fiancé Jasmine was talking about was Nadim, maybe they’d split up since then?
“There’s even more,” Saira said. She took the phone and cued up another picture.
It was another screenshot—this one from Facebook. From the Ismaili Muslim Business Owner Network. The post was by Salim Shah. It was a family picture—Salim, his wife, his daughter Jasmine, and Nadim, with his swanky beard and precision hair. The caption was something about how much Salim was looking forward to his daughter’s upcoming wedding to his former business manager, Nadim Remtulla.
Reena nearly threw up her fake ice cream.
“Look at the date and time. That’s London time,” Saira said.
She did some calculations in her head. It was posted last Saturday night, Toronto time. She looked at her sister.
“Yeah, I checked, Reena. Dad is in this group.”
Three days ago, Salim Shah posted in a Facebook group Jasmine was marrying Nadim. This is how Dad found out. And this was the truth. Fuck.
CHAPTER THIRTY
It’s not a new picture,” Saira said.
“Of course it’s not. Nadim was with me Saturday night.” But that didn’t mean he wasn’t engaged to Jasmine. Because why would Jasmine’s family lie about this? After all, his engagement to Reena was fake. He admitted that himself, the day this picture was posted.
Reena didn’t know what to say. Looking at the picture in front of her, she saw a happy, healthy family. She saw a couple well suited for each other. Intelligent. Beautiful. Aspirational. In love. She put the phone down, her vision blurring.
“I’m sorry, Reena. I can’t believe he didn’t tell you he was engaged. Fucker.”
Reena fell back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “I’m an idiot.”
Her sister was on the floor, feet stretched in front of her, wiggling her toes. Which just reminded Reena of Nadim’s foot thing. Ugh. How could the man who’d lovingly admired her arches done this to her? He’d even painted her toenails last week. They’d argued about calling it nail polish or nail varnish.
Saira looked at her. “You’re not an idiot. You’re trusting. He’s the idiot for not realizing your value.” She smiled sadly. “I know you like to avoid heavy stuff, but I do think you need to speak to him. No doubt he lied to you, but this doesn’t add up. It’s going to eat away at you forever unless you know the truth.”
“You sound like Khizar. Or a therapist.”
Saira grinned. “Janeya’s amazing. You should get a therapist. Everyone should. All I’m saying is speak to Nadim. Then we can kick him off a cliff.”
Reena sat up and drained her glass of juice, remembering the look on Nadim’s face when she tried to ask him about his past on Saturday night. “I’m not sure he’ll tell me. Although, we caught his lies, so what does he have to lose at this point?”
Saira shrugged. “You. He has you to lose. I think he’ll talk.”
*
Saira left soon after, letting Reena keep the rest of the frozen yogurt, and promising to check in soon. And Reena was alone again. She’s already cried more in the last few days than she had in years. And she was pretty much done with the Bollywood watch list. Reena stood in her living room, more restless than she could ever remember feeling.
After those revelations, what Reena needed was a drink. Actually, several drinks. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t had a sip of alcohol since she’d found out about Nadim’s secret fiancé. Her abstinence was noble, but was it necessary? One drink wouldn’t really destroy her. At least not like she assumed it would. She eyed the collection of bottles stacked on her dining room sideboard. There was no need to be a martyr to her own guilt.