Accidentally Engaged(93)
Dad’s face softened just a hint. “This isn’t a game. This is my daughter’s life.”
“Yes, Dad. It’s my life,” Reena clarified. “And you used us both. Used Nadim because you needed his father’s investment and me because his father wanted a good wife for him. So don’t pretend you’re suddenly concerned—”
Dad put his hands up to prevent her from saying more. “I know, Reena. I wanted you to get to know each other, not run away and get married so fast. If this is some sort of rebellion against us…you cannot gamble your life, or your happiness, because of your family’s mistakes.”
“Why can’t you believe it’s real? Why would you think either of us would marry someone as a rebellion?”
“I don’t know what to think.” He looked at Nadim. “First engaged to marry Jasmine Shah, and now eloping with my daughter? So, tell me, how can I trust your loyalty to this family?”
Jesus Christ, Dad needed to stop. “Oh, hell, no.” Reena stood up and pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you play that Godfather intimidation thing the day after I marry the man. Our family…you say…well, did you think about our family when you both lied to all of us? Mum’s off hustling cards with her badass seniors club while Saira smokes spliffs in the garage. And worst of all, you made a deal with a man you barely knew to bring his miscreant son here to marry one of your daughters because your company was swindled, and you won’t admit it! You had no idea of Nadim’s character or integrity, or his life before moving here, and yet you threw me at him like a prized goat! And now you want to talk about family loyalty?” She frowned and looked at Nadim, realizing this monologue wasn’t very generous to him. “Sorry, babe. Love you.”
He chuckled. “Love you, too. Please, carry on.”
She stared at her father.
“It’s medicinal marijuana,” Saira clarified.
“Hustling cards?” Ashraf asked.
Reena sat back down and took a deep breath. “Nadim and I are married. This is the life we chose, and you have to accept it. He’s going to Tanzania on Monday, and I’m planning to sponsor his immigration so he can come back as soon as possible. If that doesn’t work, I’ll try to move to Tanzania. We know it’s going to be a tough couple of months, or longer. So, what I need from you, my family, right now, is to please give me space. Support me. I’m going to have enough pain and turmoil…” Her voice cracked. She squeezed her eyes shut a moment. “For the next two days I’m celebrating, because it’s going to be torture to live without my husband for the foreseeable future. I am not letting you guys and your barrel of secrets ruin these two days. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a wedding reception to plan.”
Everyone was silent for a while. Long enough to feel awkward. Reena wiped the tears in her eyes and leaned into Nadim, while he squeezed her hand tightly.
Finally, Mum shifted and looked at Reena. “Reception? You getting biryani, or tandoori and naan?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Reena’s family stayed after her little outburst, and together they planned the menu for tomorrow’s party. Mum finally dragged the crew out after chai and cookies, insisting she needed to make the catering order at her favorite Indian restaurant in person, and also had to squeeze time in for a trip to Little India for some emergency sari shopping. Miraculously, no one mentioned anything about the secrets Reena had told when she lost it on them, not the poker, the weed, or even the swindling architect. And that suited her perfectly. She needed to get through these two days—her family was welcome to implode under the weight of all the truths after Nadim left the country.
It was weird, though, interacting with her parents and Saira with no judgments, no forcing of their ideals on her, just healthy unconditional support—even if it was only short-term. If she’d known all she needed to do was elope to get some normal time with her family, she would have done it years ago.
But, no. She didn’t know Nadim years ago. And there was no one else in the world she could imagine marrying.
At eight o’clock Saturday night, long after her family had left, an unexpected mehndi artist showed up, telling Reena she’d been hired to do full bridal mehndi. The poor woman had probably never applied mehndi to a bride’s feet while the groom sat happily on the floor watching the process, but she did a beautiful job anyway.
Finally, Sunday morning at the regular brunch time, Reena and Nadim met their friends and family in the private functions room at the back of the Sparrow to celebrate their marriage, and to film the final video for the cooking contest. The party was planned with her parents, with collaboration instead of compromise. A traditional Indian meal served in the back room of their favorite pub. Both bride and groom wore the traditional Indian clothing they’d been married in (Reena in strappy sandals instead of barefoot this time), and the guests wore a mixture of formal Indian and Western clothes.
Shaila Aunty and Amin Uncle arrived together with several trays of jalebi, ganthiya, and platters of sweets. Her aunt hugged her tightly before presenting her with a silver wrapped box. Reena guessed it was filled with a bit of bridal gold. “This is wonderful! Look how sneaky you are, not giving us a hint of this when we met last week! And thank you so much for inviting us to celebrate with you.”