Page 45 of Forged By Fate

“Seriously, though. How did everyone react?”

“Sarang looks like someone hit him over the head with a sandbag, and his family completely disapproves, but he gave them a huge jolt this morning when he asked me if I needed a soundproof room for my daily riyaz. I think they expected him to ban me from singing in public because the women in his family don’t really step out of the house for anything but shopping and socialising.”

“I’m glad he’s not getting in your way, but I wish he’d help you get ahead. Heisyour husband,” I groused as I spooned up some poha.

“I don’t want his help, Sunaina. I want to do this all on my own,” she said immediately.

“All right. The band is very happy about the response to the reel, and they want to do another one soon. Let’s make a longer video this time, with the whole band. It will help you get some live gigs with them.”

“Will we be recording the video in a studio? I don’t have the money to chip in for the studio and equipment hire,” she said worriedly. “I mean, Sarang has pots of money, but I really don’t want to be obliged to him.”

“Hmm, let me ask Tanvir what other options we have,” I replied. “Don’t worry, babe. We’ll find a way to make it happen.”

I hung up and sent Tanvir a text explaining the money issue.

Just then, a helper brought me a mug of ginger chai, and I remembered the last time I’d had proper chai. I couldn’t believe the Viren who made me feel two inches tall last night was the same man who made me that chai.

I wanted to lash out at him, but there was nothing I could do. He hadn’t broken any promises he made to me. It wasn’t his fault I had expected our night together to make a difference to him. All I could do now was make sure I didn’t repeat that mistake. There would be no more love-making. No more heated glances or incendiary kisses. I would keep to my side of the bargain, and that was it.

I helped Daya Bua get Aisha ready for her first day back at school and saw her off at the door. Viren’s Chachi, Laxmi Aunty and Tahira were in the living room when I poked my head around the door to pick up a magazine I had left there earlier. I wanted to retreat as soon as I saw them sitting around the coffee table, looking as ominous as the witches from Macbeth. But they had already seen me, and walking away without greeting them would have been rude.

“Good morning,” I said cheerfully as I went in and found my magazine.

“Is that the latest Architectural Digest?” asked Laxmi Aunty.

“It is,” I replied. “Would you like to read it, Aunty?”

“I’m sure Aunty is just surprised to see you reading it,” said Tahira with a sneer. “After all, these houses aren’t really what you’re used to. Poor Sunaina grew up in a tiny flat in Borivali, Aunty.”

“And she married a billionaire? How nice for you, beta,” said Laxmi Aunty snidely.

Tahira turned to Viren’s Chachi and went on as if I wasn’t standing right there.

“Bua, this room looks very dreary. It really needs redecorating, don’t you think?”

“Arre beta, why should you worry about these things when Viren’s wife is standing right here?” asked Laxmi Aunty. “What do you think, Sunaina? Would you be interested in redecorating this room?”

“The poor thing wouldn’t know where to start, Aunty,” said Tahira cattily.

“Yes, she’s probably only shopped from Chor Bazaar before,” added Viren’s Chachi.

The three women tittered behind their hands, and I started shaking with fury. I had never pretended to be anything I wasn’t. I wasn’t the one hanging around a married man’s house, desperately waiting for him to notice me. Tahira’s pick-me behaviour was getting out of hand, and I was done with these bitches bullying me just because I was poor.

Anger coursed through me, clouding my mind until I wasn’t sure whom I was most angry at - Tahira and her coven or my arrogant husband who thought I needed to get clearance from him for the smallest things because of course, as a nobody from Borivali, I couldn’t possibly know anything in life! Well, I was done being their punching bag.

I turned on my heel and walked out of their room, ignoring their laughter, as I marched upstairs to Viren’s study. I ignored my husband who was on a conference call, and beckoned to Sufi. He came out and shut the study door behind him as he gave me a worried look.

“What’s wrong, gorgeous? Was Mr C very mad about the collab?”

“He was, but I don’t care. I need your help again, Sufi,” I said, choking back angry tears.

“Anything for you babe,” he replied immediately.

“Can you take me shopping?”

“Of course! Where do you want to go?”

“Chor Bazaar,” I said, with a feral grin.

---