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Chapter One
BIANCA
“You need to get married, Bee.”
My head reels back from the shock of hearing those words from my little sister’s mouth. Younger than me by two years, yet Arya is the bossy one out of the two of us. Pampered and spoiled her whole life, she’s the baby of our family.
Though now, I’m questioning if it’s gone to her head. There’s no other explanation for why she’s haughtily demanding I get married.
A laugh bubbles up in my throat as I wonder if she’s joking. When her expression remains serious and her lips set in a firm line, I swallow the sound and straighten to my full height.
“No,” I firmly answer and turn around.
Arya’s footsteps follow me as I walk farther into the living room of my penthouse. The stomping sound of her feet is similar to that of a stubborn child.
When she called me earlier in the evening asking to come by my home, I assumed she wanted to hang out like old times before the chaos of our lives drifts us apart.
The memories bring a pang to my chest at how close we used to be. Sure, we still love each other, but over the last two years, I’ve felt her slowly pulling away, almost as if she resents me.
For what, I’ve no clue.
Unlike me, Arya has a loving boyfriend, tons of friends, and now a job at a huge media and entertainment firm. She has her life put together in every aspect, while mine is slowly spiraling. Or so it feels.
I’m twenty-five, single, and living alone. The only two good things in my life are my two best friends and my career.
Apparently, those two aren’t enough to lead a happy and satisfied life. Or so says my parents every time I have lunch with them on the weekends. Something I’ve managed to avoid the past two weeks.
I wouldn’t say that my parents are strict and domineering, but they do hold traditional values like most Indian families. It’s ingrained into their very being. According to them, I should be looking for a man to soon settle down with since I’m of age.
My dad believes it’s high time that I at least start searching for the one. He’s even gone as far as to look for potential suitors for me to meet.
In other words, men I would never foresee myself falling in love with, let alone spend the rest of my life. Someone old-fashioned, boring, and looking for a dutiful wife to parade around.
Aren’t girls supposed to want a manlike their father?Apparently, not me.
Even my mom is in his corner, when she of all people should understand my sentiment after getting herself married at just eighteen years of age. It’s even more barbaric that she didn’t even see my dad until the day of their wedding, a fact she reminds me of every time so I know how lucky I am to at least have a say in choosing my groom. Fucking insanity!
I hate that none of my other achievements matter to my parents until I’m married.
When it’s all you’ve ever heard your entire life, it takes the magic out of the whole occasion. Most girls dream of their wedding day while I dread it.
Not to mention, my sister isn’t helping matters by coming here.
“Bianca!” screeches Arya. At least, that’s the way I hear her voice in my head.
With a sigh, I whirl around to face her and raise one eyebrow. “Like I’ve said a billion times, I’m not marrying anytime soon, Arya. If Mom or Dad bribed you into convincing me, don’t even bother. For fuck’s sake, it’s not something you guys can make happen at the click of your fingers. Or stomp your foot, in your case.”
“I did not stomp,” she retorts.
“You’re doing it now.” I point at her right foot. With the rate she’s going, she’ll dig a hole in my floor with her four-inch heels.
Why she’s even wearing them for a casual meetup in the first place is beyond me. How she manages to stay prim and proper all the time is also a mystery. She’s everything my parents desperately yearn for me to be. They’ve molded her into their perfect daughter.
Obedient and dutiful. Polite and sophisticated. Most importantly, someone willing to settle down and have a family. Maybe that’s why they cater to her every whim.
I didn’t know I had to tick the necessary boxes to earn my parents’ affection. The realization saddens me despite being used to it.
“You’re not even giving it a thought,” she accuses sharply.
