The Accidental Fiancée (2 page)

Akbar, who had stood up as she entered, said
with a mocking smile at her, ‘Hello, again.’

Her father was overtly cheery. Unusually so.
She didn’t have the heart to resist. She smiled, ‘If you’re okay
with it,
Abba
.’

‘Yes, yes. Go ahead,’ her father practically
shooed them out of the room.

‘You’re such a hypocrite!’ Akbar said as
soon as they were out of earshot. ‘All sweetness and sting-less
with your parents, and for the rest of humanity you’re nothing
but…KK.’

‘Well at least I’m not a walking
cliché.’

‘What? You don’t like red roses? There isn’t
a woman in the world who doesn’t like red roses. But then you’re
not a woman are you, KK. Which is why instead of saying thank you
nicely, you’re complaining.’

‘Would it kill you to have some style,
Akbar? You’re still stuck with romance moves from your college
days.’

‘Darling, I don’t know who you’re calling
style-deprived, because this man in front of you is a class act.
See this thing I’m driving? It’s called a Mercedes in case you
didn’t know. It’s synonymous with class.’

‘I bet your clothes are branded and your
shoes are Italian.’

‘You sound accusatory, KK. Are you still
stuck in your graduate mentality of…what was it…oh yeah, equality,
fraternity and some such shit?’

‘Stop calling me that or I swear I’ll…’

‘You’ll what? Not marry me? Break my heart
and walk all over it? Oh, but wait…that’s you if
I
refuse!
Tell me why exactly you want that ring on your finger so badly that
you’ll even succumb, pitifully I may add, to your arch enemy?’

‘Nothing that concerns you. What we are
going to do about this engagement however, does concern you. My
plan is…’

‘Whoa, hold it right there, KK. Your plans
don’t feature in this gig okay? You begged me to put that ring on
your finger…’

‘I did not beg you!’

‘Yes you did, with your big beautiful brown
eyes…it was heart-wrenching, KK. Now, this is what you’re going to
do. You’re going to act like a devoted fiancée until the time
I
decide to call off the engagement, in a few weeks.’

Khayyam was secretly quite relieved so she
kept her peace.

They stopped at a red light. Leisurely Akbar
turned towards her and continued with open enjoyment, ‘You’ll be
pleasant and accommodating, you’ll dress up nicely to please your
future husband-who won’t be, but no one needs to know that,
and
you’ll thank me nicely when I give you roses.’

‘As long as they’re not red.’

‘You have to have the last word, don’t
you?’

‘So it would seem.’

Akbar had to hand it to her; she didn’t lose
her cool, or show how much she resented his power over her. Why
though? What was hanging over her head that she’d expose herself to
his humiliation and taunts so easily? But then he thought smugly,
that wasn’t really his problem and he was going to take full
advantage of the situation because he hadn’t had so much fun in a
long time.

The very next day Akbar came to Khayyam’s
house with his mother and his uncle to make it official. He brought
with him a diamond ring, the size of which made Khayyam flinch. It
was the most vulgar and ostentatious thing she’d ever seen and it
weighed a ton.

As Akbar put it on her finger, he said with
a charming smile that fooled everyone but her, ‘I chose the ring
myself because I know
exactly
how much you like this kind of
thing.’

She smiled, with her eyes daggers drawn to
his jeering ones. But she couldn’t say a single thing as he laughed
cheerfully in her face.

***

It became a habit with him to call on her
for dinner dates or lunches. It was so much fun goading her,
especially in front of her parents when she pretended to have
reformed and couldn’t bite back.

He recalled clearly the first time he’d seen
her in college. He’d been besotted with her dusky beauty, until
she’d started speaking vociferously about her favorite
causes—feminism, helping the marginalized and saving old buildings.
And then she’d gone head to head with him in their first year of
college, competing for the prestigious Punjab Student of the Year
Award. It was to be judged by none other than his idol Shoaib
Peerzada. Akbar considered him to be the greatest Pakistani
architect of all time and desperately wanted to impress him.

Her architectural project had been
impractical but ‘green’ and she’d snagged the coveted prize that
he’d been after. Just swiped it clean from under his nose, and done
it while openly criticizing him and his ‘loose ways with everything
that should be sacred’. Just because he’d designed something that
represented commercial contemporary architecture as a replacement
of the old, dilapidated buildings of the city, which were
practically a heap of stones and dust, even if they were
historical. She’d come down on him and his project like a ton of
bricks. It had been epic. It was a politically correct decision for
the administrators of the award, but she’d taken it as a validation
of her stance.

She sat across from him now, absentmindedly
eating her salad. He recalled his lame-ass attempt to bury the
hatchet at graduation. In her typical KK-way, she’d been arrogant
and dismissive. His youthful fragile ego had been bruised badly.
She shot him down in front of all his friends and all the girls who
worshipped the ground he walked on. She’d called him quite a few
epithets that were probably true and a few that weren’t but it was
that last thing she’d said that still rankled.

‘Akbar Rasul, you’re a depraved, grossly
over-confident, spoilt boy, without an iota of real talent! What
you have is a pedestrian and cheap desire to make a name for
yourself by razing to the ground what men greater than you have
accomplished. And if you think your charming little act is going to
work on me, you’re sadly mistaken. I’m not your average bimbo, and
you’ll never be able to fool me, so why don’t you take your offer
of friendship somewhere else, and start planning your vulgar
high-rises?’

He bristled at the memory.

What better way to put an end to their feud
other than right where it had started? He was going to have to
intimate their old classmates with this latest development.

***

Akbar invited Khayyam to dinner but forgot
to divulge the delicious little detail about their classmates
joining them. He looked for her reaction as she walked in with the
bad boy as her fiancé, in front of all the people who had once
hero-worshipped her. Her expression of stunned disbelief was as
rewarding as could be expected.

It was so worth it.

She hesitated on the threshold just for a
minute, but then she walked in with her head held high and the same
plastic smile on her face that he was beginning to recognize as her
pitiful new trademark. Poor KK.

Where the hell did that come from?

He shook himself mentally and followed her,
determined to enjoy her comeuppance.

‘Oh my God, it’s true!’

‘Khayyam! What were you thinking?’

‘All that time in college you made us
believe…’

He smiled and said in an undertone, ‘Sweet,
sweet vengeance, KK. Now go and look happy.’

He shoved her lightly towards the table
while he laughed and joked with his friends, who were openly making
suggestive jokes about how he had ‘tamed’ Khayyam. He made no
effort to stop them. In fact, he grinned every time someone said
anything that suggested she’d actually had a torch burning for him
since college. He was enjoying himself immensely.

Khayyam laughed and smiled initially, but
gradually she fell into a dignified silence, embellished with her
plastic smile as the jokes became more aggressive.

Akbar was intrigued beyond measure. What had
happened to her? Her house had looked pretty shabby and her father
was now retired from the government job he had held; but how was
her marriage going to help?

Alia, a classmate who had never liked
Khayyam piped up. ‘So Khayyam, you’ve sold out too. What happened
to your dreams of fighting for women’s rights and joining the UN?
You’re ending up marrying, just like, what was it you said you’d
never be, an average bimbo? Well now…’

They laughed.

Khayyam tried to shrug, but Akbar could see
Alia’s words had hurt her.

Mubashir added, ‘And to
submit
to
Akbar, the man you called an example of everything that was wrong
with the youth of this country. What a man you are, Akbar! An
inspiration for us all.’

Khayyam swallowed visibly, smiled and said
in a low voice, ‘He’s the man.’

Mubashir and the others winked and nudged
but suddenly, Akbar had had enough. He hadn’t forgotten the old
slight because it had hurt at the time. She had been young and
passionate about some things that he had been obviously opposed to
and maybe she had said things she probably wouldn’t say now.

‘You’ll have to excuse us, guys, Khayyam and
I have to go somewhere. We should do this again.’

He was already helping her out of her chair.
Why did he feel this sudden urge to protect her? Her face was rigid
with the control she’d been exercising. Now that he had embarrassed
her and got even, why did he feel…defeated?

Her hand felt small and delicate in his as
she walked by his side quietly, and he looked at her
surreptitiously. She was even more beautiful than before. She
exuded a strange aura of strength, and yet he could sense the
vulnerability that had never been there before.

He certainly wasn’t the same. People grew
up, changed…so had they.

She slipped into the passenger seat and
stared ahead rigidly. For the first time since he’d met her again,
he felt tongue-tied. Had it gone too far?

Had he?

‘Khayyam…’

‘It’s KK, remember?’ she said icily and then
added with irritation, ‘What does it even mean?’

He smiled.

‘It’s pretty lame. Your not knowing was the
punch line. If I tell you, it loses it’s edge.’ Facing her, he
added, ‘So I’ll tell you, as a peace offering. It’s Kosher
Khayyam.’

She nodded and gave a mirthless
half-laugh.

‘I see. Standing up for hopeless causes and
right and wrong, self-righteous…yeah it is lame.’

‘Told you it was. And Khayyam, I’m sorry
about tonight. They went a bit too far. I should have stopped…’

‘Don’t bother, Akbar. I can pay my debts and
I paid mine with you tonight. Or at least I think I did. If you
don’t agree, lead on. I can handle whatever you have to throw at
me.’

‘Still the tough firebrand somewhere inside,
I see.’

He smiled but she didn’t.

And Akbar wanted to know how, or who, had
extinguished the fire in Khayyam. He remembered her passionate
speeches and her dedication to some good cause or other. Now she
seemed to be fighting herself, some invisible constraint that kept
her from incinerating her opponents with her biting barbs. He was
beyond curious.

After dropping her off, he went straight to
his mother to get to the bottom of things. And she told him exactly
why Khayyam would let him go to any lengths to stay engaged to him.
Not that his mother knew that particular bit of information, but
he
understood. Akbar felt that strangely unfamiliar emotion
again, to protect.

The very next day he hired a lawyer to do
what he needed him to do.

***

Akbar and his mother sat at the dinner table
with Khayyam and her family. She was dazzling—laughing and glowing
with happiness. She was unable to take her eyes off of her younger
brother who’d recently been acquitted of a kidnapping charge that
had proven to be fabricated and groundless. Everyone had known that
and yet, it had been an uphill battle to prove it.

Her parents looked stronger, as if a
pressure had lifted off of their shoulders.

But Akbar had eyes only for Khayyam that
night. It was likely the last time he was going to see her, now
that she no longer felt she had to shield her parents by being the
obedient and dutiful daughter. She could go back to her actual
mission of saving the world.

She’d probably tell him to deliver on his
word and call off the engagement. Akbar felt a sudden tug at his
heart. He had unwillingly admired her will and tenacity even in
college, but now, he felt more than that. He had respect and a
deep…
oh, hell
, he thought with disgust and an aching heart.
Who was he kidding? He was in love with her…and wasn’t that just
peachy! What a fool he was. She hated his guts. Found him lacking
in everything; morality, depth, maturity, style. And he’d gone and
fallen in love with her. He toasted his stupidity in silence.

After dinner, he walked back to the dining
room where she was cleaning up, and getting things ready for the
after-dinner tea. He wanted to see her one more time. Maybe bait
her one more time, for old time’s sake.

She looked up and gave him an unusually
pleasant smile.

‘I guess your reasons to stay engaged are
obsolete now.’

Still smiling, she shrugged and said, ‘And
yours? I can assist you in your charade some more…if you like?’

He shrugged. He didn’t want a charade.

Silence.

She watched him from under her eyelashes.
These past few weeks had been a revelation to her. Akbar Rasul had
changed. And it was a change that made him even more devastatingly
attractive than he’d been in college.

Khayyam broke the silence with her heart in
her mouth, ‘Do you want me to…return your ring?’

A flash of something passed across his face,
but it was enough for Khayyam. She knew what he’d done for her
brother. She’d been an activist too long to not get to the bottom
of things. Her brother had been victimized—she had known that. But
then, out of the blue to be championed by one of the best lawyers
in the country had been too unbelievable. It hadn’t taken much to
convince the lawyer to tell her the truth.