Recap: Ryan bought me a dress!

"He's not showing off, Piku. It was just a formality." Mom's voice blared through the speaker of my phone, buried somewhere under a freshly laundered pile of clothes. I had tossed it there carelessly, and now it's lost.

The second I got home-after Ryan insisted on dropping me off-I had thrown myself into cleaning. Scrubbing the counters, rearranging my shelf of mismatched mugs, and tackling my ever-growing laundry mountain.

Cooking made its way in between, a batch of overly seasoned paneer curry currently cooling on the stove. Now, with the laundry nearly done, I had plans to collapse into bed..

Except, of course, I couldn't fully relax knowing that Dina might've been in a grave situation.

She wasn't answering my calls, which was driving me insane. I'm worried that she'll stock up her apartment with her stress-baking mode again.
It's her therapy-whether she's upset, overjoyed, or in existential crisis mode. She bakes, and she bakes some good stuff. Really good!

"And besides, isn't it a good thing?" Mom's voice broke through my thoughts.

"I know! But isn't a month too long?" I groaned, yanking at a stray sock that had somehow cemented itself into my comforter.
I tossed it into my sock-bag-a genius invention born out of losing too many perfectly good socks to the mysterious void.

Adulting is all about life hacks like this.
Better late than never.

"Piku, weddings are a once-in-a-lifetime event," she started again, but I wasn't about to get sucked into her monologue.

"Can I just talk to Dad, please?" I pleaded. There was instant shuffling, muffled footsteps, and the distant murmur of a news channel in the background.

"Aisha wants to talk to you!" Mom's voice rang out, followed by what I imagined was her shoving the phone into Dad's hands.

"Aisha?"

"Hi, Dad! How are you?" I asked, trying to sound chipper while simultaneously folding my shirts.

"I'm fine. What's up?" His voice had that casual-but-also-suspicious tone, like he knew I was about to pull something.

"So... I was hoping to, uh, negotiate about Ryan staying at our house. For the wedding."

"Why?" he asked, and just like that, his businessman voice was on.

"To get a better deal, obviously," I said, huffing as I tried to flatten a particularly stubborn crease on one of my shirts. "I mean, come on. One month, Dad? It's a wedding, not a semester abroad."

"Aishu, you answered your own question. It's a wedding." He stretched out the last word, chuckling like he'd made the world's funniest joke.

"Yeah, well, it's not my wedding."

"But it's your cousin's. And aren't you happy that I'm accepting him?"

I paused mid-fold, biting my lip. Happy? Sure.
Overjoyed? Not exactly.
On cloud nine? Definitely not.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
"I'm thrilled."

"Good."

"Okay, here's the thing." I straightened, setting the shirts aside and rolling up my metaphorical negotiation sleeves. "How about this: Ryan stays for one week, max."

"Three weeks," he countered instantly.

"Five days," I shot back, grabbing a handful of socks for dramatic emphasis. "And he tags along with me everywhere, no exceptions."

"Ten days," Dad replied smoothly, "but he participates in all the pujas."

"But I won't," I said, narrowing my eyes as if he could see me through the phone.

"Deal." His triumphant chuckle rumbled.

"Thanks for your unparalleled understanding," I said with mock sweetness, flopping back onto my bed and exhaling loudly.

"So, how's dinner?" I asked him casually.

"Just done it. What about you? What's for dinner?"

"Dinner?" I sighed, glancing at my stove. "Oh, it's some.. rice and paneer."

Dad chuckled again,
"Glad to hear it, Aishu."

I stared at the ceiling, suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to just.. go home. I craved the tangy burst of mom's special achaar, the comfort of my dad's presence as we walked side by side on familiar paths

I missed the feeling of being just us...

_____

I groaned, my head throbbing as the relentless knocking on my door dragged me out of what had been a very blissful, very needed sleep. At first, I thought it might be one of those feverish dreams-the kind where you hear weird noises and can't tell if they're real or in your head. But no. This one was annoyingly real!

With a sluggish walk, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, grumbling curses under my breath. The distance from my room to the front door wasn't long-two to three strides, max-but in that short stretch, I'd already endured continuous knocks, doorbell rings, and what I assumed was my brain sizzling inside my skull.

"If it's some ridiculous scammer, I swear I'm going to eat his head off," I muttered darkly.

"Jeez! What?!" I yanked the door open with more force than necessary, only to have my forehead collide with a knuckle mid-knock.

"Ow!" I winced, clutching my head.

"Oh-uh, sorry." Of course, it's Ryan. Out of seven billion people on this planet, it just has to be him who shows up every time I'm trying to breathe in peace

He cleared his throat awkwardly, his hand still mid-air as if unsure what to do with it now.
"Didn't see you there."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. What do you want?" I groaned, still rubbing the sore spot on my forehead.

But then... silence.

My eyes narrowed.
Why was he just standing there, not saying anything? He had the audacity to hammer on my door like a madman at some ungodly hour, and now he couldn't even spit out a reason?

If that's not a death wish then what is?

"What-why aren't you speaking?" I snapped, squinting at him.

Wait a damn minute!
Why's he dressed up in a glamorous tuxedo?

Shit- No No No it can't possibly be...

My eyes widened as I lunged forward, grabbing Ryan's wrist and twisting it to check his watch.

Three PM.

Three. Freaking. PM.

"WHAT?" I shrieked, staring at the watch like it had just personally betrayed me. "I slept for-wait- like nine hours?!"

Ryan raised a brow, clearly unimpressed by my meltdown.

Shit! When did I even fall asleep?

I vaguely remembered eating dinner while watching a K-drama, then calling Dina, scrolling through my phone until... what? Six in the morning?

Yeah! That pretty much explains the nine-hour coma. Fantastic.

"Shit! I'm so sorry," I blurted, darting back inside. "I forgot! Just-just wait here. I'll get ready!"

"You forgot?" Ryan echoed, his voice dripping with mockery. "I thought you died. Honestly, you're an impressively heavy sleeper."

I ignored him, bolting to my room and heading straight for the shower.

You'd think I'd have remembered, with the stakes being so high and all. But no, I'd been too busy crying tears over random strangers pretending to be a couple, to remember this little bombshell. Stupid!

I let out a hiss through clenched teeth, staring at the bathroom tiles like they held the answers to my life's bad decisions. Spoiler: they didn't.

"Aisha, hurry up. It's a long drive" Ryan's voice rang out from the other side of the door.

I closed my eyes and let out a long breath
A long drive, huh?
Long enough for me to second-guess every life choice that brought me to this moment.
How sweet!

.
.
.
.

I huffed, finally finishing my makeup-the one skill I actually managed to pick up from Dina. It's nothing over-the-top, but it's enough for me.

Smoothing down the dress Ryan brought me, I tugged at the fabric with a grimace.
It hugged a little too snugly for my liking, but I guess Ryan had a point-I needed to look at least a little dolled up to pass as his "girlfriend".

I mean, why would his parents believe that he fell in love with an average, commoner like me?

Not that it mattered, anyway.
It's not like they'll believe he fell in love with me, either way. Scoff!

Grabbing my purse, I walked out into the living room, where Ryan was sprawled out on the couch like he had all the time in the world.

"I'm ready. Let's go,"

The moment I said it, his head whipped toward me so fast as if I set the couch on fire. Drama King!

Rolling my eyes, I stomped over to grab his hand and drag him out the door, but before I could even take two steps, he yanked me back so fast I practically bounced back into his chest.

"What the-?" I gasped, my back against him.

"You're gorgeous," he murmured, all of a sudden, his voice low and way too close to my ear. The words sent an electric jolt straight to my chest, my heart started to race against time.

Stop. Stop.

No I can't.. I shouldn't.

"Wh-uh, you caught me off guard," I stammered, pressing a hand to my chest in a futile attempt to calm the drumming.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw him raise a brow, his lips curving into that infuriatingly- crooked smile
"Oh yeah?"

I blinked up at him. "Yeah."

"Well, guess what?"

"What?"

"Me too."

He whispered hoarsely, his warm breath brushing against my ear. It was so... distracting. My thoughts scrambled like papers caught in a sudden gust of wind.

My heart betrayed me, thudding louder at his words, a cold shiver passed through my spine. But I refused to acknowledge it.
This was fake-just a part of the act. Nothing more.

"It never stays fake."

Dina's words crashed into my mind, pulling me back to reality. I jerked away from him, clearing my throat.

"We... should go." I forced a weak smile, turning on my heel and walking out.

It's fake. It'll always be fake!

It's not gonna change...ever!

_____

When the car stopped in front of the most lavishly decorated porch I had ever seen, I finally realised what kind of mess I'd gotten myself into.

I knew he was rich, but... this? One quick glance at the gigantic mansion was enough to confirm he wasn't just rich-he's crazy rich. I couldn't help but feel self-conscious. There's no deny that I was painfully out of place.

Hilariously, pretending that I belonged here.

Ryan stepped out with his usual grace, meanwhile, I was sweating buckets, clutching my knees as if they might save me.

My fingers hovered dangerously close to my mouth, but I restrained myself from biting my nails. Barely.

Ryan rounded the car and opened my door, extending his hand toward me.

I grabbed his hand without any hesitation, clutching it like a lifeline. My pulse thundered in my ears as I stepped out, trying not to wobble in my heels. Ryan gave my hand a comforting squeeze before releasing it, which wasn't any helpful.

"Welcome, son!" The booming voice of his father snapped me back to reality. A man in his forties, with a sharp suit and an even sharper smirk, strode toward us.

"Hi, Dad," Ryan said, effortlessly confident. I, on the other hand, felt like a crash-landed alien in his pristine world.

"Bentley, huh? What happened to the Porsche?" his father quipped, teasingly.

"Stop it, Ritesh. Let him enter first. You can talk all the talks you want later," interrupted a regal voice. A woman in her mid-forties appeared beside him, draped in a crisp silk saree adorned with emeralds that shimmered under the porch light.

Her elegance was breathtaking, and in that moment, I realised where Ryan had inherited his striking features.

"Mom," Ryan greeted warmly, pulling her into a hug that softened her poised demeanour. When they separated, he turned toward me, gently tugging me forward. I dug my heels on the ground, anchoring myself.

Crap! Crap!

"She's Aisha," Ryan said, using all of his strength to push me forward.
"My girlfriend."

The word echoed in slow motion.

His mother's eyes, warm just seconds ago, turned frosty. Her polite smile flattened into a neutral line, but the sharpness in her gaze felt like it could cut steel.
Me? A piece of cake!
Please, tell me she's not going to kill me right?

*******

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