The Arrangement

Chapter Four: Before the Wedding

We both requested our wedding be simple. We didn't want all that grand stuff, considering the situation.

Simple, our wedding was not.

Our parents were elated that we said yes and immediately got to work. They repeatedly assured us that everything would be simple, but I guess their  definition of the word was different.

"Everything will be red, of course, because we are traditional," Vivaan's mother, Jayanti Trivedi, laughed. She was a short and wide lady, with long, thick hair always worn in a braid. She seemed to love silk sarees, as she wore them everyday. "We've booked the place for the wedding. It is absolutely wonderful. There's a water fountain and a huge space for all the guests."

While my mother rubbed coconut oil in my hair, I smiled and nodded along, pretending I loved her ideas and that I didn't want to throw a dictionary in her face so she could look up the word 'simple'.

"We'll go look at wedding suits tomorrow," Mom murmured in my ear. Her voice was kind, asking for peace.

When I replied, my voice was cold steel, "You can go and find one for me, since you decide everything for me anyways."

No one heard what I said. My mother's hands pause in the massage, then resume a little harshly this time. Everyone else was busy chatting among themselves, and by everyone I meant all the family we had. Friends, cousins I'd never met, uncles I'd never heard of, strangers whose relation to me nobody explained. I assumed those strangers were from my future husbands side. Day by day, they poured in, loaded with their luggage that servants struggled to carry upstairs and find them a new room.

I didn't even think my uncle and aunt's place (the ones I met the day we arrived) had that many rooms. It was like a freaking hotel. We should be charging. Why were people from Vivaan's family coming to stay here anyway? Shouldn't they be going to their place?

I hadn't seen Vivaan again since the day we first met, and every time I thought about the fact that I will be marrying a person I only met once so far, a thick lump formed in my throat.

Because of that, I couldn't take any of this seriously. I wasn't as afraid as I probably should've been, because it all felt so sudden and unreal.

The next day, Mom went out to find my wedding outfit. I faked a headache in front of the others and stayed back. Jayanti and a few of her gossipy sisters (or friends? cousins? I couldn't keep track anymore after the five hundredth guest) insisted on going with her, but Mom told them this was something she wanted to do alone, and left. They thought nothing of her strange mood and continued to chatter on.

I didn't even need to pretend to look tired, and retreated to my bedroom. Most of the women spent their times downstairs where the living room and kitchen where joined. The men disappeared somewhere during the day and usually didn't come back till dinner. The women's voices were silenced as soon as I shut my door, but I could still hear an occasional, shrieking laughter from them.

The servants were preparing lunch, and the smell of curries, roti and tea floated through the house. My stomach was empty, but I couldn't eat. I picked up my phone for the hundredth time and once more debated checking my social media. I was afraid to. Afraid of what was waiting for me. I didn't want to tell Farhan until I was married, until it was too late to go back.

With a sigh, I let it fall back on my bed, following it a second later. I threw myself across the bed and stared up at the ceiling, wishing I hadn't been so careless that night. Then none of this would've happened.

I must've fallen asleep at some point and woke up to someone knocking at my door.

"Come in," I murmured, knowing who it was. Everyone else usually let themselves in, she was the only one who knocked.