Husband For Hire

11. I Screwed Up

11. I Screwed Up
The idea of the eyes being the windows to the soul suddenly didn't sound ridiculous at all.
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|Anmol|

"Ashar, Sunny. Sunny, Ashar."

Thank god, my cousin did the introductions because I wasn't the only one glued to my spot. In fact, Ashar and Sunny were also staring at each other--glaring almost.

I nudged Ashar.

"Do you guys know each other?" Jhaanvi asked, looking between the men.

"Old friends," Ashar smiled and Sunny mirrored the action. While the old friends shook hands and somewhat hugged, I coulsn't help but find it odd. They didn't even strike me as decent friends. How could Ashar be friends with someone of Sunny's status?

Well, if he can be my husband . . . Sunny was still fair game.

We talked for a few minutes before Jhanvi dragged Sunny to dance with her.

My eyes followed their content faces. Maybe one day I could be in a happy relationship as well, whether it was with friends or family. Sunny and Jhanvi met each other at a fashion show in Venice, Italy. I could try my luck there after the contract with Ashar was over. Just another eleven months of torture.

How am I going to survive?

"Ano!" Ashar snapped his fingers in front of my face as if hadn't been paying attention to him. "I'm your husband, so stop eye raping another married man in front of me."

Alright, I admit my eyes remained focused on Sunny, but I wasn't even thinking about him!

And what the heck did Ashar mean?

"Don't tell me what to do," I said annoyed.

Instead of retorting, he resorted to leaving me standing alone and asking a random girl to dance with him. Was he really going to behave in such an immature manner? I wasn't going to tell him to not dance with anyone.

Instead I crossed my arms and decided to ignore him. A familiar group of women caught my view and I joined them, listening to them gossip who was wearing what at the last fashion show. These were daughters of rich businessmen. Myra and Tara were also in the group. As much as I wanted to pay attention and contribute something to the conversation, I couldn't.

My eyes kept wandering back to where Ashar was.

When he caught me staring, I made weird faces at him. He gave a goofy smile and continued swaying to the music with his spontaneous partners. If he was going to dance with people, he should at least avoid selecting women taller and/or older than him.

"Annie, you okay?" one of the girls asked, her hand on my arm.

"Perfectly fine." I forced a smile.

"I've heard it's hard for newly marrieds to keep their eyes off each other," Tara teased, knowing full well about me getting forced into marriage.

"That's a little strange since Annie denied knowing him at the fashion show," someone--Astrid--pointed out. "But I must say, he's extremely attractive." Everyone except Myra, Tara, and I agreed on that. "Did you choose a model as well, Annie?" If these girls knew Ashar was a commoner, they wouldn't spare a single glance at him.