Free Fall 3.5
Here's the second half of the third part and then some. I, hm....I'm not sure how I felt about this section. I think when I go through a second read through I will have a lot to change. Its funny how things can make you question what you had originally planned....ah well. Here we are.
She had completely forgot she was wearing it. Was that why he was so close but so distant at the same time?
"Y-Yes," she stumbled over her words, "it is related. I Just," she hung her head down, "I'm sorry, I want to tell you but I can't. Not yet."
"I understand. Well, not completely."
"Would it help if I said this ring means nothing to me?"
Andres looked up at her and they shared a look and it was in that instance she knew. She had fallen hard for Andres and there was no going back.
Tentatively, Andres moved forward and it was like they were back in the alleyway. He reached for her hand, his face only inches from her own but this time, she remained calm. It was against all reason, all logic, but she didn't pull away this time. Her mouth felt dry and her heart sped up, but she was ok. Andres was ok, Most importantly, Andres was not Hunter. His lips brushed against hers, still moving cautiously, not wanting to distress her again. Leaning up against him, she kissed him back. He let go of her hand, bringing his hand up to cup her face, trying to bring her closer if it was at all possible. She winced, her jaw still sore from that morning, but she wouldn't let him pull away. This was happening and she was afraid if it stopped too soon regret would hit her like a ton of bricks. Goosebumps spread over her skin when his tongue teased her lips and she let a small gasp escape, her lips parting just enough that he took the chance, heating the kiss up. He tasted like cinnamon and it was perfect.
Briefly they paused, catching their breath, allowing enough of a chance to stop, but neither of them moved away. So he kissed her again, this time with more force, with more passion. She leaned back, shifting further up the bed so he could move from the floor. Her hands moved up to his hair, raking her fingers through the silky locks. His hand had moved to her hip, holding onto her like she would disappear. Somewhere in the back of mind a voice reminded her it had only been two days. Three if she wanted to count the airport but even then that was reaching. But did that matter? Romeo and Juliet knew each other for less.
But then again, look how things turned out for them.
And consider the fact that play was actually intended as a comedy not a tragic romance.
Still, it had been two months since she'd received any positive attention, since someone told her she was more than the scandal. And for now, until she told him, he would look at her like she could do no wrong because he had no idea. He was probably the only person in the world, and that is exactly what she needed.
Eagerly she pulled at his hair, encouraging him on. Yes, she needed this, as selfish as it was.
He was straddling her hips, his hand now under the light pink fabric she wore, resting on her bare skin. They would have to stop soon, she couldn't get carried away. Not yet, at least. Her hands fell out of his hair and she finally pulled away. His forehead rested against hers and they took a moment, catching their breaths, letting their bodies cool down.
"I uh," he cleared his throat, "I hope that read as a 'yes'."
Nisha laughed, "I think the message was fairly clear."
They stayed like that for a little longer. Andres looked down at her, smiling and overall quite pleased with himself. She finally nudged him off and he rolled over next to her, laying on his side so he could keep looking at her.
"I have to warn you, Andres," she looked at him, all mirth replaced with a serious gaze, "getting involved with me is a mess. A huge, stupid, mess. Now would be the time to run."
"The road of life is dull if you avoid all the bumps," he said casually.
She stared at him and then laughed, playfully shoving him.
"You are a freaking dork, ok? A giant dork!"
"I'll be whatever it takes to see your smile."
Surprisingly, Nisha did make it back to her grandmother's in time for dinner. She wasn't going to risk being caught just because Andres tended to make her lose track of time. She was positively giddy, having completely forgotten about Dinesh, the engagement party and her obligations. Despite the fact the reminder glittered on her finger. Even Dadi noticed the change in her attitude but said nothing, attributing it most likely to the lovely new Saree she would be wearing in three day's time. Said Saree was waiting for her in her bedroom when she retired for the evening. Andres had called her beautiful when he saw her in it. Her fingers ran down the soft fabric as she admired it. She wanted him to be the one on her arm when she wore it on Saturday. But that wasn't her reality.
No her reality was now a ridiculous mess.
She fell backwards on her bed, bring a pillow to cover her face. She wanted to scream, she wanted to squeal. Her emotions were a conflicted storm as the situation settled. This would not end well, people would get hurt but she was determined, this time, to come out happy on the other end.
Touching her lips, she felt the butterflies in her stomach again. She felt amazing thinking about it. Like she was allowed to do what she wanted, to take the risks that a twenty year old should take.
"Andres," she said, his name rolling off her tongue, each syllable sending a rush though her body.
The last time a kiss made her feel like this, it had been her very first when she was only sixteen. The kiss itself had been sloppy and clumsy, but it had been sincere, like Andres. She smiled to herself. Right now, the only thing she should be worrying about is how she'd spend the next few days while Andres went off for his projects and to survive her engagement party.
"Four more days, I can handle that no problem."
When she would look back on this moment she would curse herself for jinxing everything.
Nisha woke up the next day knowing something was off. Mostly because it was nearly noon and her grandmother hadn't screeched at her to wake up. And the fact she heard bickering that didn't involve herself. Sliding out of bed, she padded down the hall quietly, wanting to see what was going on.
"I don't want to hear it, Aparajita. She has been through enough!" the voice was crisp, familiar and nearly brought tears to her eyes.
She hurried down the stairs, "Mum!"
Juliet Quasar only had a moment to turn before her daughter collided with her, hugging her tightly. She smiled, petting her head gently.
"Nisha, my dear. I've missed you."
Nisha looked up at her mother, clutching at her, "I can't believe it; you're really here!"
She shared very few traits with her mother, in fact, on the outside they were stark opposites. Her mother was tall, pale and slender with short blonde hair and soft hazel eyes. She was quick witted with a sharp British accent that commanded attention which is something Nisha had definitely picked up from her.
"Oh you've gotten so tanned, dear! And just look at your hair, so long. I don't know how you handle it," she said, looking her daughter over.
They hugged again, Nisha practically jumping up and down.
"What are you doing here? I didn't think daddy would let you see me."
The older woman snorted, "You should know better than to think your father has any sort of control over me."
Dadi scoffed from the corner she stood in, but Juliet ignored her and continued on.
"I found out about your engagement party and you know, despite the circumstances, I wanted to be here for it."
Nisha frowned, "Oh, right, the party. Are you just staying for that?"
Her mother smiled sadly, "I'm sorry love, but there's a lot going on."
"I take it daddy won't be showing up then?"
"I'm sorry, this whole merger has been just a mess so he's very busy. But he'll be here for the wedding, I promise."
Nisha moved away, "Of course; just to make sure I go through with it right?"
"Nisha," her mother chided softly.
"Did you bring your hotspot? I haven't had internet in months and I'd like to catch up on things."
It was Juliet's turn to frown, "Sweetie, I don't think you should get online. Things are still blowing over."
"I'm not going to go on any gossip sites or anything! I just want to see how my friends are, check my email and all that."
The look on Juliet's face showed she still didn't approve but she conceded, pulling a small device from her purse. Nisha thanked her and ran up to her bedroom. Finally she could see what was going on outside of her prison. She booted up the laptop, connecting to the wifi and opened at least 8 tabs worth of sites.
"First things first; Social media," she smiled as she typed up the web addresses.
It didn't take long for her smile to disappear when she browsed through her profile. The number of friends she had was down by at least half and the comments on her page brought tears to her eyes.
Who knew you were such a whore, Nisha! Anything to get attention, right?
Are you trying to be like Paris Hilton or something. Ugh, slut!
Shame your boobs aren't bigger!
I always knew you were a skank.
Quickly she shut the laptop, her hands shaking. The comments went down the page, not a single one asking how she was, what her side of the story was. Just accusations and insults. Did she not have a single friend left? She wiped at the tears falling down her face. Why didn't anyone stand up for her? Was it easier to just throw the word 'whore' at her? And what would happen when she told Andres? Or he found out when he showed the pictures of her?
She couldn't breathe, her chest hurt and she felt herself spiraling into another attack. But this time she was alone to deal with it. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to push everything out of her mind. It hurt so bad, physically and mentally. Even though months had passed, it was still hurting. How long would it be like this? The only thing she could do was curl up on her bed, gasping for air and shaking. How many times would she break down like this?
The door to her room opened and shut. She didn't bother looking up when she felt pressure on the side of the bed. A soothing hand rubbed on her shoulders.
"I wanted to warn you, honey. People are cruel," her mother spoke softly, "We've done what damage control we could but, well, people love scandal."
They stayed like that for an hour while Nisha worked herself down. She should have known that things weren't going to go away just because she disappeared for a few months. She was the daughter of someone important, someone who would always be in the spotlight and she had known that but still lived reckless. Her mistake was thinking she could get away without being scathed, thinking she could come out smelling like roses. Even though Hunter caused this, she had still put herself in the position to be used. And she might be doing it to herself again.
Andres. She had allowed herself to fall for him out of desperation so was he really who he said he was? Or was this a set up?
She touched her lips. Or was the experience with Hunter going to make her doubt every nice gesture forever more? She groaned in distress, burying her face into the pillows. Her mother laughed.
"It's frustrating, isn't it?"
If only her mother realized.
"You're a strong girl, you're going to get through this."
"Are you sure there's no way we can break the engagement?" Nisha asked, her voice muffled by pillows.
Juliet shook her head, frowning, "I'm sorry love, a deal has been set and your father has made up his mind."
"But I'm 20 years old, why does he get a say on who I married?"
It had been the question she'd kept in the back of her mind, not wanting to be asked.
Her mother pulled the pillows off Nisha's face, "Nisha, you are an adult and I don't think he can make you do anything but, you've committed this far."
"Because he forced me here!"
"You had the choice of being cut off, but you chose not to be."
"It's not fair, mum! It's not fair!" She cried out, ignoring the fact she sounded like a child.
She knew her mother was right. Technically, she had been given a choice. But she took the selfish path, the path that still promised her a mostly comfortable life. It just so happen that the price was marrying Dinesh. Her mother's message was clear; her decisions were the cause of her own problems. She had to either deal with them, or make better choices.
Juliet kissed her forehead, "Things will work out. How they work out, is up to you."
For a brief second she considered telling her mother about Andres, about the mess she was already creating. But she held back. First, she wanted to find out Andres' true intentions. After all no one could be that sweet to a practical stranger? Right?
The days leading up to the party were actually fun. Dadi was busy arguing with her mother rather than picking at her so Nisha felt a little easier. The messages from her "friends" still ran through her head but she did her best to ignore them. She did, however, heed her mother's advice and stay off the internet. Though she wondered when it would ever be safe to go on again. She showed her mom the places she wandered and found it was hard not to talk about the few days she'd spent with Andres. And trying not to think about him was proving difficult. She didn't want to let her heart keep falling for him, just in case. She had to keep her resolve to approach him when he was back, to come clean about who she was and find out if he was truly a simple grad student like he claimed.
When it was the day of her party, she was in a poor mood. It started with a cruel wakeup call at dawn, followed by hours of primping. Her hair was styled, her face was painted up with elaborate makeup and finally, she actually had to get dressed. She was starving when they finally made their way to Dinesh's home. While she knew she looked good, she was nervous as soon as she walked through the front door. There were so many people that she didn't know, all staring at her, judging her. Her chest restricted.
No, no she could have an attack here. She reached for her mother's hand. It wasn't the same as holding Andres' but it helped.
"Nisha," came Dinesh's voice as he worked his way through the crowd of guests.
Surprisingly, she felt relieved to see him. He took her hand and gave it a light kiss.
"You look stunning," he smiled ever so slightly and then turned to her mother, "Mrs. Quasar, a pleasure to finally meet you."
Juliet shook his hand, "You as well, Dinesh. I trust you can take care of Nisha from this point on, yes?"
Nisha shot her mom a look that screamed 'traitor' but didn't fight when he took hold of her arm.
"Of course, come you must meet my dādā," he led her through the crowd.
If there was one positive thing to remember about that day, it was how much Nisha enjoyed talking with Dinesh's grandfather. He was a sweet old man who had plenty of stories and managed to make Nisha feel accepted despite the fact she couldn't speak Hindi and was lost amongst the traditions. She was disappointed whenever Dinesh swept her away to meet some cousins or family friends or whoever.
Otherwise, the party had been a nightmare. It probably wouldn't have been if she'd just kept her mouth shut, but she was never one to do that. It had started when people began asking them about their plans after marriage.
"Oh I think we will try for at least five children, perhaps more," Dinesh had answered on particular nosey woman.
Nisha was quick to retort, "Uhh surely you jest, Dinesh. I'm thinking more in the one or two range."
Her fiancée shot her a stern look but Nisha returned it. He cleared his throat.
"Obviously it's something we still need to discuss," he said calmly.
"No, it's just something you need to accept," she shot back.
"Nisha," he said, a warning laced in his tone.
She narrowed her eyes, daring him to say something else. She didn't care that his family was staring at her, watching her defy her future husband in front of everyone. He sighed and said nothing further. Nisha took it as a win. But it wasn't the end. Questions kept coming and Nisha disagreed with everyone of Dinesh's responses.
"Oh, she will stay home, taking care of the house and children, of course."
"Excuse me?" Nisha said, her voice going up an octave, "I think I can at least decide what I want to do with my time."
Dinesh had clearly had enough. He took hold of her elbow, his grip tight, and forcibly moved her out of the room.
"What are you doing?" he hissed, not wanting to be overheard.
"Not letting you make plans about me or my body or my future without y consent, that's what."
"You are going to be my wife, you will not make me look a fool in front of everyone!"
She shrugged out of his grip, "I am not going to be your subservient, quiet, woman. I speak my mind, Dinesh. And if you can't handle that, then we can bring this whole thing to an end."
He looked like he was struggling to keep his voice down.
"You know very well that our fathers have an agreement. We must honor it and that means you need to behave."
"Behave?" Nisha said, probably louder than necessary, "I am not a child! And you are not in control of me!"
They glared at each other, seething. She was fairly certain the party in the next room had quieted down to hear the couple argue and she was even more certain she'd never hear the end of this from her grandmother when they returned home.
"I didn't think you would be so old fashioned, Dinesh."
"And I did not think you would be so spoiled."
Nisha gathered up her Saree and turned, "I'm not dealing with this. Enjoy the party," she spat before stalking out of the room and made her way out of the house.
She could feel eyes on her as she worked her way to the door, but she tried to keep her head up high. This was all stupid. She should have expected it, that he would have certain expectations of her. But she didn't want that. She didn't want to bow her head and do as he said, or pop twenty children for him!
"Stupid Dinesh," she said, kicking at the dirt.
Somehow, she made it to her grandmother's house and was let in by the housekeeper. She stalked up to her room, tempted to put a barricade in front of the door before the elderly woman came home but she was too worn out. She looked at the mirror, staring at the reflection of someone she didn't even recognize. Thick eyeliner surrounded her eyes, accentuating the fake eyelashes that had been put on her along with the bright gold eye shadow. She had always preferred a more natural look. Her hair was a long mess of waves, probably ruined from the window and her mad storm home. And the Saree, the beautiful Saree only filled her with anger.
This wasn't her, it never would be. Maybe if she'd grown up with the culture a little more she'd understand it, but it seemed so suffocating, so wrong to what she believed in.
"I feel like I should start singing Disney songs at this point," she muttered, amusing herself.
She didn't, instead she just fell back on the bed, upset. Which was becoming a pattern. At what point since she'd been here with her grandmother had she not stormed up to her room upset or depressed.
"The two days with Andres," she stated matter-of-factly.
