Dating Dr. Dil (If Shakespeare was an Auntie #1)(21)

“I live here!” Kareena yelled back. “You need to get out.”

“I invited him,” Bindu interjected.

“Then uninvite him. How could you?”

“I don’t understand why you’re so angry,” Prem snapped. “I’m the one whose reputation is literally in shambles because you came to my show and hurled accusations.”

Her gaze narrowed on his as if to say, We had a connection that one night and then you pulled my sweater over my head and left.

“You know what you did, asshole.”

“Listen, Rina—”

“It’s Kareena!”

“—Instead of letting me explain, you interrupted me in my place of business, hurled false accusations at me, started screaming like a churreyl, then assaulted me with Pedialyte!”

“Did you seriously just call me a witch?” she shrieked.

Prem leaned forward, shoving a finger in her direction. “And I’ll do it again because you sure as hell aren’t sweet and charming like you pretended to be when we first met. Or do you go to bars pretending to be chill until you can trap someone into believing in your warped vision of true love?”

Every woman in the kitchen gasped in horror.

“Don’t sound so shocked that I was at a bar,” Kareena snapped at her aunties. She pointed at each and every one of them. “I’ve heard you all talk about how you used to troll for men in Mumbai and Delhi. None of you all are as innocent as you’re pretending to be.”

“Not me,” Dadi said, patting a hand to her chest. “I was always appropriate, and Kareena, I expected the same of you.”

“Yeah, Aunty, tell her,” Prem said.

Kareena whirled on him. “I’m seriously going to kill you!”

“Why so hostile?” he taunted. “Is it because you finally realized that I’m right? That love is a bullshit excuse that women like you use when no one wants them?”

“That’s it, you’re dead.” Kareena lunged for him, and Prem dodged her. She jumped over a chair and chased him around the kitchen island. The aunties all stumbled out of their seats, shouting. Not like Prem could hear them. He was busy trying to save his package from blunt force trauma at the hands of a she-demon.

“If you hit me, I’ll hit you back,” he shouted from behind Falguni Aunty with Crocs. The woman let out a hysterical laugh.

“So much for being a gentleman,” Kareena said, and hurled what looked like a round ladoo at him. He dodged it and watched as it slammed against the wall and slid to the floor.

“Stop throwing things!” Dadi shouted.

“She started it,” Prem shouted back. When he reached the snack table and grabbed another samosa from one of the trays so that he held one in each hand.

“This is for the damn Pedialyte!” he shouted and chucked them at her. A fried triangle hit her square in the forehead and smashed flat like a pancake.

“Ouch!”

“Not the bloody samosas!” Sonali Aunty yelled from behind him.

He lunged to the left, then faked right, and went left again. Kareena grabbed a potato tikki and hurled it. Before he could dodge the flying disc, it hit him in the arm.

“You deserve to burn in hell, Dr. Phil!” she shouted.

“I thought the show was called Dr. Dil,” Dadi said over the chaos.

“She’s saying it wrong on purpose,” Bindu replied.

Kareena’s voice cracked as she shouted, “You’re setting women back decades. Using emotions to get in their pants but then claiming that love is an illusion, so you don’t have to commit to anyone. Aunties are going to think that everyone should go back to only having arranged marriages. Marriage should be about finding your perfect life partner!”

“Life partners?” He let out a humorless laugh. “Jeevansathis? You have got to be kidding me. Because of you, I’m going to dedicate every episode for the rest of the season to how people like you are delusional.”

She gasped, jaw gaping as she stood behind her aunties. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me.”

Before Kareena could grab Prem, the fourth aunty, who had remained undisturbed throughout the chaos, stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out a whistle sharp enough to rupture eardrums.

Everyone paused.

“Sit down,” she said.

“No, thank you,” Prem said. He’d had enough of this nonsense. “I’m leaving before I—”

“Sit down!” she roared.

He followed the authoritative order like he’d been conditioned to since childhood and sat in the closest available chair. Kareena reacted in the same way, and now he was stuck next to the woman who smelled faintly of motor oil and hints of sandalwood and vanilla.

Sandalwood and vanilla. His hands fisted at the sensory memory.

The aunty looked pleased with herself as she clasped her hands in front of her. “Now. I’m the last to introduce myself. I’m Farah Aunty, Prem, and I think it’s better if we start in the beginning.”

“That would be helpful,” Prem murmured. He was going to need to get a drink after this just to cope.

“You see,” Farah Aunty started. “Because Kareena is like a second daughter to us, we care about her well-being.”