Page 42 of Married in Rage


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“Whatever you think is best,” she told the chattering woman. And then she closed her eyes and let them have their way with her.

A decade later, or so it felt like to her, Raashi heard them tell her it’s done. She’d been waxed and threaded and tweezed within an inch of her life. And she knew one thing for certain. She was never coming back.

“Ma’am you can open your eyes.”

She didn’t want to, she thought, anxiety cresting in a wave inside her. But she was not going to be a coward. She was better than that. She’d made herself better than that.

She forced herself to slowly open her scrunched up eyelids. Raashi stared at her reflection in the salon mirror. Her long hair had been cut and layered until it fell to just below her shoulder blade, deep red highlights threading through it. Whatever they’d done to her face, she finally understood what people meant when they said someone glowed. Today, Raashi didn’t just glow. She had the sun beaming out of her every pore.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, trying not to touch her face and smudge their hard work. “It’s great.”

She glanced at her watch. She had an hour to get home, have her shower and get into her outfit for the night. She hadn’t expected this whole thing to take so long but then, they did have to start from scratch with her she supposed. She flicked the long bangs she now appeared to possess out of her eyes and stood, grabbing her tiny clutch which had nothing but her phone and her debit card inside.

She paid up, adding a generous tip for the poor people who’d spent hours de-hairing her and making her less yeti and more human. She called for her driver and told him to drop her off at the service entrance. She slunk into the house, hoping against hope that no one would see her. For once, luck was on her side. She made it to her room without seeing either her mother or her brother. Her father, as usual, was probably working until the very last moment. Probably figuring out how to position another Gadde-Kodela wedding to his advantage.

She slipped into her room, shutting the door and locking it. Heaving a sigh of relief, Raashi opened her cupboard and pulled out the dress she had hanging there. She’d found it in a tiny boutique on the streets of Manhattan. It had been an impulse buy, one she’d convinced herself she was making for Veda and not herself. But she hadn’t been able to part with it. Even knowing it wasn’t the kind of dress that would suit someone like her, she’d still kept it.

But today…Raashi held it against herself and took in her reflection in the floor length mirror hanging on the far wall. It suited the girl in the mirror. In fact, it looked wonderful on her.

She suppressed a little squeal of excitement at finally having an occasion to wear her dream dress. She wasn’t a dress girl but this dress…this dress was for every girl.

Raashi hurried into the bathroom, showering quickly, careful not to let any water touch her face and ruin the magic make up she’d paid heavily for. She dressed quickly, pulling on her practical, cotton inner wear. She hadn’t bothered splurging on that. It wasn’t like anyone was going to be seeing it. She slipped the sheath of fabric over her head, allowing the soft, silky fabric to kiss her skin and slide into place.

She ran a brush carefully through her new, shortened hair and patted the wrinkles in her dress flat before sliding her feet into simple, lacy, black Jimmy Choo kitten heels. She wasn’t adventurous enough to try heels higher than that. Falling and breaking her neck wasn’t on the agenda for tonight.

Tonight, she had a point to prove.

She turned slowly and took in her reflection in the mirror. A stranger looked back at her. A stranger who fit the role she was going to play tonight. Harsh Kodela’s fiancée. She’d managed some semblance of it. She was pretty, damn proud at what she’d pulled off.

The dress was a pale smoky grey that was a slim fitting sheath, flaring at her knees and falling in soft folds around her ankles. The lacy, black shoes and the red highlights in her hair were the only pops of colour she’d allowed herself. She slipped simple, diamond, dangling earrings into her earlobes and left her neck bare, the tube style neckline accentuating her collarbones where the earrings grazed them.

“Raashi.” Her mother jiggled the doorknob, found it locked, and then banged on the door. “Are you ready?”

Raashi took a deep breath and watched her alter ego do the same.

No one will ever want you, Raashi.

“I’m ready,” she said quietly. And then louder, “Coming Amma. I’m ready.”

Twenty-Three

HARSH

Gadde Mansion was resplendent. Fairy lights adorned every pillar, every parapet, every painfully ornate inch of the mansion. The sprawling lawns had tents set up all around the periphery of it, cushioned silk lined diwans spread out under them. Beyond the tents, on a smaller but not small by any means lawn, the caterers had set up multiple stations. You name the cuisine, there was a counter dedicated to it.

Harsh chewed on a carrot stick and contemplated the culinary feast laid out in front of him. There was no justice in this world, he reflected as he chewed harder. This was his engagement. He was the star of the night. Well, one of the stars. Raashi had the right to twinkle a bit too. And still, here he was chewing on a bloody carrot stick while he watched everyone else devour everything from kebabs to chaat to biryani to…His stomach growled, a low ferocious sound.

“Hungry?” Veda came to stand beside him, chuckling.

He glowered at her and took an extra-large bite of his carrot stick. Veda wrapped her hand around the carrot and yanked it away.

“Cheat day,” she suggested, pinching his cheek like he was two years old. He glowered some more. “It’s your engagement. You should be able to eat whatever you want.”

He swiped for his carrot, but she sidestepped him. “Come on, Harsh. Everyone deserves a cheat day. It’s a special day for you and today, you’re allowed to cheat. On everything.”

“Hi.”

The familiar crisp, cool voice had him turning on his heel. Raashi would-

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