My stomach knotting with nerves, I put on a smile as I reach her group. “Hey!”
“Finally, you showed up from your ivory tower,” she teases and points her fork at her friends. “Told you she’s real.”
“Have you been talking about me?”
“Yeah. It’s not every day you run into your childhood bestie after so many years.”
“We honestly thought she was making up an excuse to go to the executive’s floor to check out our hot boss,” says the girl sitting on Yukta’s right.
“Someone’s obsessed,” chortles the one on my left.
I choke on my water, some of it snorting up my nose as I cough loudly.
“You okay, Iris?”
Someone rubs my back soothingly.
“Yeah, sorry,” I mumble, grabbing a napkin to wipe my chin. “I’m fine.”
“Well, this is Suhana,” Yukta introduces the girl with the bob cut next to her, once I’m breathing normally. Then pointsto my left. “That’s Vicky. Suhana is from my department. While Vicky works in finance.”
“Nice to meet you both,” I say.
They smile before Suhana leans forward, and asks, “Are you really engaged to Mr. Kian’s brother?”
“I am.” I raise my left hand to show the ring.
“Wow,” gasps Vicky. “You’ll be Mrs. Singhania.”
Too bad it’ll be to the wrong brother.
She continues, giving me a bewildered look. Like I’m an alien. “You simply have to lift a finger to get anything you desire in the world. Why are you working as an assistant again? Hell! Why work at all? If I were you, I’d sit on a beach on the Amalfi Coast and sip on piña coladas all day.”
She’s joking, but if the roles were reversed, I know she’d be on that beach. I see the envy in both Vicky’s and Suhana’s eyes.
I don’t even blame them.
It’s how we’ve been raised. We’re told, directly or indirectly, to marry a rich or well-off guy so we’ll be set for life. Rather than being encouraged to chase after our dreams and become financially independent. To be more than just someone’s wife.
I bet no one’s told a boy to marry a richgirlwhen he’s all grown up.
Why aren’t we taught that marriage is an equal partnership between two people? Instead, it’s drilled into our heads that a woman won’t have a happy and fulfilling life unless she’s dependent on someone.
There’s nothing wrong with marrying a wealthy man, but not if that’s the sole factor you’re searching for in a life partner. I have nothing against men. They have their own societal pressures to worry about.
I just hate how some beliefs are ingrained into our structure, and it all shows when we say jokes like this.
Softly, so as not to offend Vicky, I reply, “I’m marrying him because of the man he is, not for his net worth. I work because I like to be independent. Also, because I’d be bored and probably a drunken lady if I sipped on pina coladas all day.”
“Oh, I was kidding,” she hastily admits.
“I know.”
Yukta, sensing the tension, asks a lighter question. “Have you been to the Amalfi Coast, though? Where was your and Nathan’s first date?”
“No, I haven’t been there. Our first date was kinda sweet and simple. We went on a walk and had ice cream at a park.”
“The one near your old house where all the hottie army cadets came for practice?”