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“You...the thought ofyoucalmed me down. That whatever way we do this, however I bring up this child, our child, that I will have your support in every decision. That...we will somehow muddle through this together.”
He scoffed. “You have a lot more trust in me than I do in myself right now,shahzadi. I know next to nothing about bringing up a child.”
She laughed then and he felt the vibrations of her laughter sink into his skin. And Virat knew, in that moment, that this was his chance to do it right. His chance to build everything he’d been denied his entire life. “Neither do I. And what I have trust in isustogether. I trust that whatever the past, and the future, we both will always want and do the best for this baby.”
He turned and took her mouth in a kiss that was more necessary than breath itself. She moaned into his mouth, just as eager as him, cementing the decision that was gaining momentum inside him.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. The other hand, he sent on a foray, needing the feel of her soft curves to calm the furor in his blood. The more he touched her and kissed her, the more Virat felt the rightness of his decision.
He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers, his breaths just as shallow as hers.
“Shall I tell you what I want, then, Zara? How I want this to play out?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I just don’t want any more shadows between us, Virat. No more things that can fester.”
“A fresh start, then,shahzadi?”
She smiled, and her face lit up with a glorious kind of joy. “Yes, exactly. We will start a new scene. Draw a line under the past.”
“Then let’s turn our engagement into the real thing. Let’s get married.”
She jerked away from him, just as he’d expected. But Virat didn’t release his hold on her. She was soft and solid and real in his arms—more real than anything he’d ever beheld in his life. “What?”
Virat led with logic, knowing that that was the only way to appeal to Zara. “We’re knee-deep in an engagement that will continue for at least another three months. At least until the release of the biopic, is what we said, right? And by then... I assume you’re going to be showing.”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes full of that wariness. “But—”
“Do you want to split up then, Zara? Do you want to put yourself through the stress of going through a separation that’s splashed all over the press? Do you want me to play the role of the heartless bastard who dumped his pregnant fiancée?
“Do you want to start our future together as parents like that?”
“But—”
“Or do you want to start as a married couple who want to do the right thing by their child? A couple who know exactly what to expect from each other? Is there a better foundation to begin our life together?”
“And you won’t care about giving up your bachelorhood? Tying yourself to me permanently?”
“Like you said, we’re already tied together, Zara. This baby has already changed everything. I’m just streamlining the process and trying to make everything official.”
She laughed and he held her close, and Virat knew that this was the right thing to do. For the first time in years, he felt a strange sort of peace fill him. And he didn’t worry over how easy and effortless this felt. How...right it felt.
But then, as he’d learned in the last ten years, when it came to his personal life, decisions made with his head rather than his heart, always worked out.
And maybe that made him a fraud, but he knew that life was nowhere near as logical or neat or even sane, as the most chaotic piece of it captured as a piece of art.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ZARAHADNEVERimagined planning the wedding—especially her wedding—could be this much fun. Of course, this time she wasn’t planning to run away with a man she barely knew, against her parents’ wishes. Wasn’t young and impulsive and looking for a way out of her mundane life.
It also helped that she had the wealth this time to properly plan the wedding. Even though she’d had to naysay her groom again and again when he insisted that first she let him pay, and second, she pick a wedding planner and take it easy.
She’d commissioned Anya Raawal to create a custom-designedlehengaand a sari for the two ceremonies, and the brilliant girl had accepted, her gaze bright with joy. Anya had simply said, “He seems so happy, Ms. Khan. I’ve never seen my brother like that.”
Of course, Zara had immediately told her to call her Bhaabi, like she did Naina.
It didn’t matter that what she was planning was for a small, intimate wedding of no more than ten that constituted her closest family and friends. And even in that, half of the guest list comprised the Raawal family. The thought of coming face-to-face with Vandana Raawal had made her more than a little anxious, but Zara had decided that Vandana was unlikely to confess to Virat what she’d done to him ten years ago, and that nothing, not even her deceitful future mother-in-law and her obsession with her younger son, was going to mar the pleasure she was discovering in all the details that were going into planning two different ceremonies.
Her mother had been quite insistent that Zara should have a propernikaahthis time, and Zara had heartily agreed. In a twist that even she hadn’t seen coming, Virat had, of course, charmed the pants off her strict English teacher mother by visiting her without Zara’s knowledge. “He didn’t say he was going to make you happy, Zara. He knows you well,beta. He simply said he’d do his best to keep up with my powerhouse daughter.” Zara had closed her eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to overflow. The man did know her well. Her mother’s fluttery “He’s so...handsome and...sexy, Zara,” at the end of the phone call had sent her into paroxysms of laughter.
