Aahana Agnihotri

The aroma of freshly ground coffee enveloped me like a warm embrace the moment I pushed open the heavy wooden door of Purple Bottle Cafe. Their lattes were amazing and so were their desserts. I loved coming here when I wanted to sketch and needed some real life inspiration. Sometimes I sat here and sketched for hours.

One of the regular baristas looked up from behind the counter. Her face brightened with recognition. "Your usual spot is free."

I slipped off my sunglasses, tucking them into my purse. One of the girls who worked here had told me that they all apparently loved me because as long as they stayed out of my way and kept replenishing my coffee I tipped really well, courtesy of my father's seemingly bottomless bank account. No matter how hard I tried to drain it, it continued to remain stubbornly full.

"I'm waiting for..." How could I define my relationship with Adarsh? The man who might become my husband? An employee? A friend? An acquaintance? "Someone," I finished lamely. "I'll order later."

Her eyebrows lifted slightly. In all these months, it was the first time I brought company. "Sure, ma'am."

I slid into my usual spot. I pulled out my favorite rose-tinted lipstick. I caught myself halfway through applying it and quickly stuffed it back into my purse, irritated by my own nervousness. The booth's position was perfect for people-watching, but I couldn't see the main door and had to crane my head everytime.

The fifth time the door opened, Adarsh walked into the cafe. My heart skipped a beat as he paused in the doorway, the afternoon sunlight streamed in behind him like a scene from a cheesy rom-com. The simple t-shirt he wore stretched perfectly across his shoulders, and his jeans fit him a little too well. He waved when he saw me.

"Aahana, get it together," I whispered, trying to steady my racing pulse as I watched him walk towards me. Why the fuck was I acting like a swooning teenager?

He slid into the seat opposite mine. His knee brushed against my bare leg, and the contact sent an electric current through my skin. The dress I had chosen was sleeveless and tied at the shoulders with delicate bows. My choice of outfit suddenly felt wrong because it offered no protection against the goosebumps rising in response to his simple touch. I shifted, instinctively trying to put space between us, but there was really nowhere to go.

"You're late," I said, crossing my arms in hopes it would hide my body's reaction.

His lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smirk but it was still annoying. "If I had known that you were counting down the minutes to see me, I would have come in sooner."

I refused to take his bait. "Since you agreed to meet, I assume you've considered my proposal?"

He leaned forward slightly, eyes dark with something unreadable. "Why me?"

I had thought about it a lot, wondering if I was making a big mistake by taking this impulsive decision. "Because you are a safe bet."

"Safe?" The word rolled off his tongue like he was tasting it. "There's nothing safe about what you're proposing."

"You can take care of yourself. My father trusts you, and you're intelligent enough to help me convince him that we—" I stopped when I noticed the employee approaching us.

"Ready to order?" she asked with a wide smile.

"My usual," I said quickly, waving away the menu she offered.

"Of course," she said and then looked at Adarsh. "And for you, Sir?"

"Just mineral water," he said, with his charming smile. "The bottle, please. Unopened."

After she left, he turned to me once again. "You have a usual order here?"

"Can we stay on topic?" I asked, uncrossing and recrossing my legs, trying to get rid of the tension coursing through me.

"By all means." His voice dropped lower, more intimate. 'Tell me more about how safe I am."

The intensity of his gaze made my thoughts scatter. I pressed my palms flat against the table to ground myself. "You know my father has announced my marriage. Marrying you is the only way out because he respects you. For reasons I've yet to understand."

"What if he refuses?"

"He won't," I said with more conviction than I felt. "I'll make sure of it."

"So this proposal... Is it about escaping your father's choice, or is there something else you're not saying?"

"Just tell me if you will marry me or not?" The words burst out louder than intended, drawing a startled look from the server who had arrived with our orders.

The server placed my nutella latte and cookie before me, giving me an awkward smile.

Adarsh accepted his water bottle with a smile. "She's always this direct," he told our server, who walked away, no doubt going to gossip with her co-workers.

He cracked open the bottle and took a long sip which I assumed was to test my patience. "Your proposal intrigues me, butterfly," he said, studying me over its rim. "So I will marry you."

A spark of excitement shot through me. "Really?" I asked, keeping my voice measured, even as I fought to suppress the smile tugging at my lips.

He caught the flicker of emotion on my face, and for a brief moment, something softened in his eyes. But just as quickly, the sharp, calculative lawyer was back. "However, I have conditions for this arrangement of ours."

"So do I," I said quickly, lifting my chin.

"Alright, let's hear yours first," he said, with a nod.

I took a sip of my drink and placed the cup down, fighting to keep my voice steady. "This isn't a friendship or a real marriage – it's a transaction. You stay away from my personal life, and I'll stay away from yours. No personal questions, no... getting attached in any way."

His expression remained unreadable as he took another sip of water. "What else?"

"I maintain complete control of my trust fund and investments. You don't ask questions about my finances or how I spend my money."

"What else?"

"No social media presence as a couple. No public appearances unless absolutely necessary for my father's events. I want a minimal digital footprint," I said, annoyed that his expressions weren't giving away his thoughts. "Next, you never try to... fix me or change me or force me into talking to you about things. I am who I am, and that's not negotiable."

He was quiet for a long moment, studying me with an expression I obviously couldn't read. "Interesting conditions," he said, with a slight nod. "You're offering me everything I want professionally, but I don't think you are getting much from this arrangement. Makes me wonder what you're really planning."

I forced myself to meet his gaze calmly, "Like I said, mind your own business. If you do that, you'll get everything you want and more."

"And you know what I want?" he challenged.

"Isn't it obvious," I said, with a slight shrug. "Now, let's hear your conditions."

"First things first, how many years are we going to run this sham?"

I forced a casual shrug. "Two years?"

"No, three years."

"Why three?" I asked genuinely curious.

This time he shrugged. "I like the number three."

I snorted before gaining composure. Quite frankly, I didn't care. I just needed him and this marriage for a little over a year. I couldn't just disappear the day I receive my trust fund or that would raise suspicion. Still, I needed to put up resistance. "Three years is excessive."

"Too long for what? Are you worried you'll develop feelings for me?"

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Unlikely."

His smile deepened, his gaze dropping to my lips. "Then what's the problem?"

"I have no interest in pretending for longer than necessary," I managed to say, taking another sip to distract myself.

His eyes gleamed with amusement. "No interest in pretending or no interest in me?"

"Can you please be serious?" I asked, huffing.

He raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry." He took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking again. "Our parents are different. My parents aren't..." He scratched the top of his eyebrow with his thumb.

"Cold? Detached? Unbothered?" I finished.

"Yes," he said with an apologetic expression. "They care about me and my well-being. A lot. For them this marriage will be real."

"Okay?" I asked, already nervous about where this was going.

"So you'll have to move into my house after marriage," he said, his voice casual, but there was something in his eyes that betrayed his reluctance. It was as if he too hated the prospect of having me in his life on such an intimate level. And why wouldn't he? After all, he probably imagined sharing these authentic moments with a woman he truly loved.

"Do you have a guest room for me?" I mumbled, trying to remember the layout of his house.

He stared at me as if I was stupid. "How exactly are we going to convince everyone we're a happy couple if we sleep in different rooms, Aahana?"

"My parents sleep in different rooms."

For a beat, he was silent, clearly thrown off. "In middle class families, couples share a room."

He chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that sent a ripple of heat down my spine. "I don't have a couch, but I do have a bed. And I promise it's very cozy. Comfortable, even. I'm sure you'll like it."

Rohit's bed or Adarsh's. Those were my choices and that made my decision simple. "Okay."

"Good," he said with a slight nod. "Like I said, my marriage is important for my parents and family so you will respect them and our house in every single way."

I frowned. "What does that entail?"

He raised an eyebrow, his expression firm. "It means your wild party days are over. No more getting high, going clubbing, or wasting your time with those... friends of yours."

"How dare you?" My eyes narrowed. "Did you not hear what I said? You won't interfere—"

"I won't be negotiating anything when it comes to my family."

One more year. One more year, and I would be free. Just one more. "Fine."

"You will respect my family. Speak to them properly. Be present for events, smile at meals, acknowledge birthdays. You might want to keep things uncomplicated, but I live in a joint family. You're not going to be some cold ghost in my family."

"I'm not actually going to be your wife."

"For them you are."

I narrowed my eyes. "I won't disrespect anyone, but I don't do family bonding."

"You do now," he said with a slight shrug.

I looked away, exhaling sharply. "Fine. I'll do the bare minimum."

"You'll do more than that."

I shot him a glare. "I don't like being told what to do."

"When it comes to my family," he argued. "I dictate everything."

The air between us stretched tight and we both practically glared at each other.

"Okay," I finally said, shaking my head. We hadn't even gotten married and he was twisting my arm. "Anything else, sir?" I asked, sarcastically. "Perhaps, you would like to go on my knees and bow my head in gratitude for your generosity."

His smirk deepened, a glint of something far more dangerous in his eyes. "Actually, there are other things you could do while you're on your knees."

The sudden shift in his tone sent a jolt of excitement through me. Adarsh had changed, transformed into someone who made my heart beat faster and my breath catch.

I cleared my throat, struggling to maintain composure. "About that..." I paused. "We won't be sleeping together."

He looked at me again, still amused. "Planning to stay celibate for three years?"

"That's none of your–"

"Business?" He finished smoothly. "You'll be my wife. Everything about you becomes my business." His hand found my knee under the table. "Including who touches you."

I couldn't ignore the wave of heat that rushed through me at his words. "Meaning?" I squeaked.

In one fluid motion, he slid into my side of the booth, crowding me against the wall. My heart thundered as I glanced around, but no one was paying attention to our little corner. "Let me be crystal clear," he murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on my thigh where my dress had ridden up. "For the next three years, you're mine. Exclusively." His touch left fire in its wake. "No other men in your bed, in your thoughts, or in your fantasies."

"Bold of you to assume you'll feature in my fantasies," I managed to say as I tried to not focus on his fingers.

His smile turned wicked. "You're having one right now."

I clenched my jaw and stared at him. "I'm thinking about how annoying you are."

Laughing, he shook his head. "Come on, Aahana. You are braver than that."

"Fine. I won't sleep with anyone. Including you. Happy?"

He arched an eyebrow. "That's going to be a long time to go without any... satisfaction."

"I'll manage my satisfaction just fine."

His eyes darken. "You don't have to.It honestly seems like a lot of work. I don't mind helping. Who knows after seeing my helpful nature, you may not even want a divorce." As soon as he said those words, we both stiffened. He pulled his hand away and placed them on the table.

"If that's all?" I finally asked after a long moment of silence. "Then I'll speak to my father and let you know how that goes."

"Would you like me to be there? You know, to play the dutiful boyfriend?"

"No, I got it."

"I would like you to give me these reassurances in writing," he said.

"Whatever." He couldn't take a dead person to court, could he?