First Comes Marriage. Sophia Sasson
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town loses the football game, it’ll start all over again.” She ran her finger around the rim of the cup, feeling the cracked edge. “The grocer wouldn’t let me buy tea. The diner was all out of veggie burgers and any other nonmeat items, and I got a ticket even though I was parked legally.” She sighed wearily. “They hate me.”
He pushed his chair back and stood up. She turned to see him put a pan on the stove and take food out of the refrigerator. “I’m still a vegetarian, you know.”
He laughed. “I’m making you a grilled cheese sandwich, your highness.”
Tears welled in her eyes. She wasn’t used to someone taking care of her. Growing up, she’d had an army of servants at her beck and call, but she never asked them to serve her. She’d often gone without a snack when hungry, too ashamed to ask the cook to make her something. “Thank you. I appreciate it...you have no idea how much.”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, I don’t want you fainting on me.” She sipped her tea and watched him sizzle butter in the pan. She felt herself relax as the warm liquid went down her throat. “On top of it all, Rose seems to think I’m going to take over Dr. Harper’s practice.”
“Well, Dr. Harper has been talking about retiring. His wife is getting worse, but there’s no other doctor in town.”
“I told her I don’t have my sights on his practice—I plan to go back to London to run my father’s clinic.”
“Yeah, they think you’ll like it so much here, you’ll stay. I mean, who would leave the good old US of A to go back to colonial times.”
She pursed her lips to bite back a retort. He was trying hard to keep up the pretense of being a surly rancher; she wouldn’t engage in his ribbing.
“Besides, if you haven’t noticed, I’m the town’s most eligible bachelor and they figure you’ll fall in love with me and never leave.”
She couldn’t help but scoff. He thought a lot of himself. “Well, she has nothing to worry about. I’m getting married a few weeks after I return.” She winced. Her marriage wasn’t a secret, but for some reason she didn’t want to discuss it with Jake.
Crash! Startled, she turned and saw the pan on the floor. Jake recovered quickly.
“Sorry...handle slipped from my fingers. Don’t worry, I saved your sandwich.”
He set a plate down. She picked up the sandwich and took a bite. This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. She let the buttery bread and soft cheese melt in her mouth.
“Mmm. Thank you!” She saw him staring at her, his green eyes darkening to brown. She felt herself blush and looked down at her plate.
Jake sat down and splayed his fingers over his half-empty mug.
“I heard something about a fiancé, but this town has a way of embellishing.” He gazed pointedly at her hand. “You don’t wear a ring.”
She chewed slowly. “In Indian culture, the engagement is part of the wedding festivities. My parents wanted it to be the first party of the two-week celebrations.”
“Two weeks?”
“I’m their only child—they’ve always spoiled me.” She kept her eyes on her plate. Her mother had been planning this event for over a year. She was quite upset at the timing of Meera’s trip, but Meera hadn’t wanted to put it off. She needed to do this before the wedding.
“So tell me about your fiancé.” His tone was casual, but there was something new in his voice. She searched his face, but he was studying the table.
“Raj is a family friend. We’ve known each other since we were children. He’s also a physician, and his family is also from India originally, but we both grew up in the UK. We have a lot in common.”
“Is he also a vegetarian?”
She laughed. “Yes, he is. We are very well suited to each other.”
A shadow flittered across his face. “Well suited. That’s an interesting way to put it. Do you love him?”
She frowned. What a strange question. But suddenly her mouth was dry. She took a sip of her tea and rubbed her temples.
“As I said, I’ve known him for many years and we’re quite fond of each other. We’re research partners—we run a research project together, and after I finish my research doctorate, we’ll open our own lab.”
He raised his brows.
Suddenly, she didn’t want to talk about Raj anymore. “Are you married?”
Was it her imagination, or did he flinch? He shook his head. “I was engaged once.”
“What happened?”
“She left me.” His voice was devoid of emotion, but she sensed bitterness and pain behind the words.
“Is the fertility tea hers?”
He laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, that one took me by surprise, too.” He was trying too hard to keep his voice carefree. The raw sorrow in his eyes gave him away. She wanted to reach out and touch him.
“How long ago?” she asked softly.
“Almost a year.”
Meera placed her hand over his. “I’m so sorry.” His hand felt warm and rough and somehow familiar. Meera pulled away.
He gave her a wistful smile. “It’s probably for the best. I’ve let it go.”
She finished her sandwich and stood up to wash the plate. She had a thousand questions for him, but it didn’t feel right to pry. He seemed vulnerable...and heartbroken.
“Why’re you marrying a man you don’t love?”
Meera froze, the water pouring over her hands as she held the plate. Her head throbbed painfully. Was he asking because his fiancée had left him? “What makes you think I don’t love him?” Did her voice sound shaky?
“You haven’t once said that you do.”
She turned off the water and sat down wearily. “There are all kinds of love, Jake. My parents didn’t even know each other when my grandparents arranged their marriage. They discovered one another and fell in love after their wedding, and they’ve been together for forty years. Forty years!”
He didn’t look convinced.
“Love is something you have to nurture...it grows over time.”
“So what is this, an arranged marriage?” he asked contemptuously.
“You could call it that or a planned marriage. A carefully selected union between two people who know and admire each other. It’s a sound basis for selecting a life partner.”
He gaped at her, shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s not a business merger, Meera, it’s a life together. This is the twenty-first century. Your parents can’t marry you off against your will.”
She glared at him. “How American of you to think this is happening without my consent! Arranged marriages have been a part of my heritage for a very long time. The divorce rate in India is one percent. One percent! Compared to over fifty percent here. I’m not marrying Raj because my parents are making me—I’m marrying him because I want to. He’s a good match for me, we’ve known each other for years...it only makes sense we would be good life partners.” Was it just her, or was it getting stuffy in here? Her head was about to explode.
“What about love?”
What was with Jake and this love thing? “There are all kinds of love. At some level, Raj and I have loved each other for twenty years.”
“That sounds like an academic argument to me.”
“Well, I am a scientist.”
“And