Making a Marriage Deal
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Sophia Singh Sasson
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One
It wasn’t at all like the movies. Hema peered over the railing as the ship pulled away from the dock. There were no crowds of people waving goodbye, no balloons or streamers wishing bon voyage. Just a few bored-looking dock workers watching the ship’s bowlines get winched into the hull. The spa deck where she stood was empty. Blue-and-white loungers were aligned in perfect rows waiting for bodies to lie in the sun. They’d be empty for most of the cruise. Indians were loath to tan in the sun. The hot tub bubbled, sloshing a little water over the edge. The sounds of the city dulled as the cruise ship moved gracefully away from the Manhattan dock and eased its way into the Hudson River.
Where were all the aunties and uncles? They’d been all over her when they boarded. Such a beautiful bride you will make. They must be getting dressed for the night’s festivities. She’d left her friends enjoying the open bar in the lounge downstairs in search of fresh air and solitude.
It was mid-June, and while the sun beamed warm, the breeze had a bite to it. She wished she’d brought a shawl; the cotton yellow-and-cream sundress gave her little warmth. Seven nights, eight days. When the ship returned to New York, she’d have a new life, living a world away from her home in India, and married to a man she hardly knew. Am I doing the right thing? Is it really worth it? She stared at the skyscrapers and imagined her new life as a doctor, and as the wife of a prominent New York businessman. It was easy to imagine being a doctor. It was what she’d been dreaming of for a long time. Being a wife? Could she play the part?
The cruise terminal shrank from view as the ship gained speed. What if things didn’t work out? What if she was wrong about everything? Her chest tightened and she leaned forward on the deck, sucking in the fishy smell of the Hudson River. She shook the self-doubt away. If she could get into the most competitive residency in the world, she could do anything.
“Don’t jump now. The river is filthy. Wait till we get to the open water.”
She startled as the man she was about to marry came up behind her. Vivek was dressed casually in board shorts and an untucked white polo shirt that set off his deep brown skin. His feet were bare like hers. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the polished wood railing, close to hers. As he stared out at the passing Manhattan skyline, she studied his profile. Thick black eyelashes fanned across his dark eyes, his profile perfectly angular with high cheekbones, a straight nose and a slightly rounded chin. He had shaved. There was a tiny dot of red where he’d cut himself on the jawline. He was a good-looking man. Hot, even. Had she met him socially, she’d have been attracted to him.
“Jumping wouldn’t help,” she said. “I’m an excellent swimmer.”
“One more thing I didn’t know about you.”
“There’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”
“Having second thoughts?” He was trying too hard to keep his voice light.
Yes! The shoreline was still in sight. Thirty-minute swim, tops.
“No,” she said, injecting as much certainty in her voice as she could muster.
He turned towards her, and she met his gaze. His eyes were the rich brown of an old sandalwood tree. A flutter resonated deep in her belly and made its way through her body. It’s nerves.
“If you’ve changed your mind, now’s the time.”
She almost laughed. It’s much too late for that. One thousand, three hundred sixty-nine of their relatives and friends had flown in from various corners of the world and were on board this ship. She doubted there was a single corner of the eighteen hundred cabins for her to hide in if she called off the wedding. Plus, she could never do that to Vivek. Not after what had happened to him the last time he was at the wedding mandap.
She began shaking her head, but he placed his hand on hers. The warmth of his touch reached up her arm and spread through her chest. He’s a good man. A kind man. The type of man to marry. “You will have all the things I promised you. Financial support to pursue your medical residency, freedom to do what you want... There is only one thing I need you to promise. That you will never, ever lie or embarrass me.”
She nodded. He wasn’t asking for much, not compared to what she was getting in the bargain.
“I need you to be sure.”
She placed her other hand on top of his. “I’m going into this with my eyes wide open. You’re not asking anything of me that I haven’t carefully considered. We made a deal, one that benefits both of us. You get a wife, and I get to pursue my dream of training in robotic surgery. We’re starting our marriage with honesty and friendship. That’s a lot more than most relationships.”
What about love? She tamped down on the annoying voice in her heart that still thought she could love again after what had happened with Arun.
The waves broke across the ship as they eased into the waters of Sandy hook bay. The wind picked up and she shivered. Vivek walked over to the hot tub area and grabbed one of the rolls of blue and white towels that were neatly stacked on a shelf. He wrapped it around her shoulders. She smiled gratefully at him. His chivalry was one of the first things she’d noticed about him when they met a month ago in New Delhi. He unfailingly opened doors, pulled out her chair, and stood when she left the table. The type of man to marry.
She turned to see Vivek staring at her intently as though he could see right into her soul.
“I was just thinking about what it’ll be like to live in New York. I’ve travelled around the world, but India has always been my home.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and she was a little surprised at how comforting his touch felt. “Don’t worry, you’ll hardly notice you’re in New York. My neighbors are just as nosy as they are in India, my parents live one floor down and will constantly interfere, and our chef makes the best rajma chawal.”
She smiled. The kidney beans and rice dish was her favorite.
“And you’re welcome to take my private jet to India any time you miss your family.”
“I appreciate that, though I doubt I’ll have much time once residency starts. The first year is internship, and they work us pretty hard.” So hard, in fact, that at least one resident failed out each year. Would she be one of those? What if she couldn’t cut it? She’d still be married and would’ve given up her life for nothing.
“See, you won’t have time to be homesick.”
He straightened, and she had to look up to meet his gaze. “Actually, I came looking for you because there’s something I want to bring up.” He cleared his throat. “During the parties, there may be an expectation for us to kiss. Our first time shouldn’t be in front of a crowd.”
That was thoughtful of him. While they weren’t planning on a traditional marriage, they were going to build a life together, and it was only natural that there would be physical affection between them. It was nice that he wanted their first time to be special.
“If we look awkward, it might raise questions.”
Not so thoughtful after all.
“I guess we better get on with it then.” She resisted the urge to close her eyes and pucker her lips like a cartoon character.
He reached out and traced his finger across her forehead and down her cheek, then tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. She was glad for the towel still wrapped around her shoulders to hide the goose bumps that prickled her arms. He leaned in. “Just because our marriage will be without love does not mean it needs to be without pleasure.” His breath caressed her ear, and a sweet warmth spread through her. Pleasure? She had not thought about pleasure. They had not talked about pleasure.
He bent his head, and her eyes closed instinctively, her entire body warming, anticipating, wanting. He touched his lips to hers so lightly that she wasn’t sure if it was him or a kiss of the wind. She leaned in closer, but he was already backing away.
“Aare, there will be plenty of time for that.” Hema’s eyes flew open, and she turned to see her mother approach, her aunt trailing behind her. She stepped away from Vivek as if she was a teenage girl caught with her boyfriend. The two sisters were dressed in perfectly tied sarees and teetered on heels that weren’t meant to be worn on the twelfth floor of a cruise ship sailing into the wind.
“The engagement party starts in thirty minutes, and look at you two. Only six days to your wedding. You can wait that long, can’t you?” Her aunt Reshma’s voice was teasing as she took Hema’s hand.
Hema shook her head. “Maasi, come on, I’m not a kid anymore.”
But Reshma wasn’t having it. She wagged a finger at Vivek. “I suggest you also go get dressed. Your brother is looking for you.” Tugging on Hema’s arm, she led her towards the elevator banks. Hema turned to look over her shoulder. Vivek stood grinning at her and another pulse zinged through her chest. The decision has seemed so simple a month ago but now she wasn’t so sure. What have I gotten myself into?
“Tell me again how this plan makes any sense.”
Vivek looked through the tags on the neatly hung sherwanis squished together in the closet. You’d think as the groom he’d be entitled to one of the suites, but his parents decided there were too many VIPs and not enough suites to go around, so he had a regular room that barely fit a queen bed and a little side table. At least it had a balcony, which was where his brother Vikram now stood, leaning against the door, creating a wind tunnel into his room.
While the two brothers were often mistaken for twins, Vikram was his exact opposite in personality. Where he preferred to operate from the shadows, Vikram loved being the center of attention.
“It’s simple. Hema’s parents will not financially support her medical residency in the US unless she gets married. She’s tired of being set up with men who don’t understand her career aspirations. She’s happy to have an arrangement where she gets to pursue her dreams.” He checked the tags on the clothes that his assistant had clearly labeled with the date and event name. He selected the correct one.
“That part I know. What’s in it for you?”
“Our parents off my back. A respectable wife for society. She’s an intelligent, beautiful woman who understands what I can and cannot give her and accepts it.”
“She’s not your type.”
“I didn’t know I had a type.”
“She’s vivacious and fun, and you’re a hall monitor.”
Vivek threw a pillow at his brother. They were only two years apart and had always been close. Vikram caught the pillow and threw it back.
“Seriously, you’ve met her, what, twice?”
“Three times counting today.”
Vikram snorted.
“Look, we may have only physically met twice before today, but we’ve video chatted, emailed, texted. Neither of us took this decision lightly. We discussed it, slept on it, then discussed it again.”
“This is not the way to get over Divya.”
A chill went down his spine. “I’m over Divya.” He slipped into his sherwani and looked in the mirror. He was tired of being reminded that the love of his life had run away from the wedding mandap with a complete stranger. To add salt to the wound, she was now married to that stranger.
“This is not about Divya. It’s about getting on with my life.”
“You hardly know this girl. How do you know she won’t jump into a lifeboat and hightail it out of here?”
Vivek rolled his eyes and slipped on the traditional jutti. It was a beautiful gold shoe with a pointy toe, but the leather was stiff as cardboard.
“Hema is not going to run. She knows what betrayal is like. She wouldn’t do that to me.”
“I was kidding, Vivek.” Vikram said solemnly.
Vivek put his laundry in the closet and slammed the door shut. He was tired of reliving his last wedding. The story was the butt of social media memes for weeks. Just when it had died down, Divya became a singing sensation, and the story stuck like a stubborn stain on a white carpet. He couldn’t take a business meeting or attend a social gathering without Divya’s name coming up. Did she really run away during the wedding? You had no idea? Is it true she didn’t know the guy she ran away with? How come she married him? The same questions circulated through business dinners, cocktail parties, and hallway conversations during boardroom meeting breaks. The worst one was, Are you okay? Every time Divya released a new record: Are you okay? As if that’s all his life was about. He was done with it.
Marrying Hema would change the narrative. Not only was she okay with the idea of a pragmatic marriage, she was the daughter of a prominent industrialist. In the Indian social circles, he’d won the marriage match lottery. Hema elevated his social and business standing. Since the wedding cards had been sent, questions about Divya had stopped.
“I’m just saying that it’s not too late to rethink this insane plan. You can’t marry someone you hardly know. Have you thought through all the things that could go wrong? We’re talking about a lifetime commitment here.”
He had thought about it, and he’d set up three simple rules for his life once Divya left:
Rule 1: Don’t develop feelings for another woman.
Rule 2: Don’t get in a romantic situation where you’re not in control.
Rule 3: Set rules for the relationship and stick to them.
Vivek smirked at Vikram. “I know what I’m doing. Nothing is going to go wrong.”
