Scandalous Games: Chapter 1

“You need to get married, Bee.”

My head reels back from the shock of hearing those words from my little sister’s mouth. Younger than me by two years, yet Arya is the bossy one out of the two of us. Pampered and spoiled her whole life, she’s the baby of our family.

Though now, I’m questioning if it’s gone to her head. There’s no other explanation for why she’s haughtily demanding I get married.

A laugh bubbles up in my throat as I wonder if she’s joking. When her expression remains serious and her lips set in a firm line, I swallow the sound and straighten to my full height.

“No,” I firmly answer and turn around.

Arya’s footsteps follow me as I walk farther into the living room of my penthouse. The stomping sound of her feet is similar to that of a stubborn child.

When she called me earlier in the evening asking to come by my home, I assumed she wanted to hang out like old times before the chaos of our lives drifts us apart.

The memories bring a pang to my chest at how close we used to be. Sure, we still love each other, but over the last two years, I’ve felt her slowly pulling away, almost as if she resents me.

For what, I’ve no clue.

Unlike me, Arya has a loving boyfriend, tons of friends, and now a job at a huge media and entertainment firm. She has her life put together in every aspect, while mine is slowly spiraling. Or so it feels.

I’m twenty-five, single, and living alone. The only two good things in my life are my two best friends and my career.

Apparently, those two aren’t enough to lead a happy and satisfied life. Or so says my parents every time I have lunch with them on the weekends. Something I’ve managed to avoid the past two weeks.

I wouldn’t say that my parents are strict and domineering, but they do hold traditional values like most Indian families. It’s ingrained into their very being. According to them, I should be looking for a man to soon settle down with since I’m of age.

My dad believes it’s high time that I at least start searching for the one. He’s even gone as far as to look for potential suitors for me to meet.

In other words, men I would never foresee myself falling in love with, let alone spend the rest of my life. Someone old-fashioned, boring, and looking for a dutiful wife to parade around.

Aren’t girls supposed to want a man like their father? Apparently, not me.

Even my mom is in his corner, when she of all people should understand my sentiment after getting herself married at just eighteen years of age. It’s even more barbaric that she didn’t even see my dad until the day of their wedding, a fact she reminds me of every time so I know how lucky I am to at least have a say in choosing my groom. Fucking insanity!

I hate that none of my other achievements matter to my parents until I’m married.

When it’s all you’ve ever heard your entire life, it takes the magic out of the whole occasion. Most girls dream of their wedding day while I dread it.

Not to mention, my sister isn’t helping matters by coming here.

“Bianca!” screeches Arya. At least, that’s the way I hear her voice in my head.

With a sigh, I whirl around to face her and raise one eyebrow. “Like I’ve said a billion times, I’m not marrying anytime soon, Arya. If Mom or Dad bribed you into convincing me, don’t even bother. For fuck’s sake, it’s not something you guys can make happen at the click of your fingers. Or stomp your foot, in your case.”

“I did not stomp,” she retorts.

“You’re doing it now.” I point at her right foot. With the rate she’s going, she’ll dig a hole in my floor with her four-inch heels.

Why she’s even wearing them for a casual meetup in the first place is beyond me. How she manages to stay prim and proper all the time is also a mystery. She’s everything my parents desperately yearn for me to be. They’ve molded her into their perfect daughter.

Obedient and dutiful. Polite and sophisticated. Most importantly, someone willing to settle down and have a family. Maybe that’s why they cater to her every whim.

I didn’t know I had to tick the necessary boxes to earn my parents’ affection. The realization saddens me despite being used to it.

“You’re not even giving it a thought,” she accuses sharply.

“Stop throwing a tantrum, Ari,” I scold, raising my voice slightly, and her lips flatten into a thin line. “They won’t work on me. Seriously, what kind of demand is this anyway? Marriage is not a joke.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“Do you? Because it appears as though you don’t.”

“I understand it’s a big deal and a life-altering decision,” she replies seriously.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Her eyes narrow while she retorts, “But you can’t keep avoiding it, Bianca.”

“Forcing me into one isn’t the solution.”

There was a time when I longed for the same things. You know, meeting a man and falling in love, marriage—the whole nine yards. Then reality crashed into me like a tidal wave and shattered all my dreams.

Love isn’t real and neither are happily ever afters.

“Why are you so against it, Bee?” questions Arya, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“I never said that.” I sigh, frustration lacing every word. The topic has become a trigger for me in the last year. Calming down, I softly explain, “I’m just not ready, okay? And I certainly won’t get into an arranged marriage.”

Arya frowns while processing my words in the tensed silence. I take in her shoulder-length hair which she curled into waves. It complements her round face with full cheekbones and small lips.

My sister is stunning and has people wrapped around her fingers with her witty personality, while I’m reserved and don’t trust people easily and like to keep my group small.

We’re as different as day and night.

Her looks and features are soft, whereas mine are slightly edgy. Black hair, brown eyes and full lips with sharp cheekbones. My body has curves for days with double D’s, which I have both a love and hate relationship with. Arya, on the other hand, is lean and fit due to being athletic her whole life.

When my sister stays quiet for too long, I plump down on the sofa while pondering why she’s being so insistent in convincing me. There’s obviously more she isn’t telling. The old her wouldn’t have hesitated in sharing her secrets.

“You’re seriously fucking up with my plans.” Her words confirm my suspicions.

“What plans?”

Ignoring my question, she guesses, “Do you not know how to date? Having problems meeting a guy? I could always set you up with Aryan’s friends.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

I’m actually offended that she believes that could be the reason. Is the idea of a woman being happily single and not running toward marriage so foreign? I’ve been on dates, but none that turned into something more.

Because you never really tried.

I shake the taunting voice out of my head.

“Oh, come on. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Ari consoles.

“Oh my god!” I shake my head.

“Arranged marriages aren’t that bad either.”

“Are you seriously that desperate to marry me off, Arya?” I lose my cool. “What has gotten into you?”

“Jeez. You’re so stubborn.” She huffs.

“And you’re acting spoiled.”

A mocking laugh spills from her throat and I recoil at the sound. When worry twists her features mixed with frustration, I pause and softly demand, “Talk to me, Ari. Why are you really asking me for this?”

She looks away before meeting my gaze while her fists clench and unclench. The action makes me push aside my annoyance and really observe her. I notice the bags underneath her eyes and the stress lines bracketing her forehead. It’s a telltale sign of distress, and I become concerned.

“What’s going on?” I probe softly.

Soft brown eyes—the exact replica of mine and our mother’s—meet mine, and her head tilts sideways as she explains, “I need you to marry first so I can marry Aryan, Bee. I want to start a family with him, and I can’t unless you do. Papa will never agree to my marriage until the eldest daughter of the family does. Don’t even think of cajoling me, because we both know it’s the harsh truth.”

I’m stunned into silence. I didn’t see that coming from a mile away.

Unfortunately, she’s also right. Our father would be absolutely against it. If he allows her, we’ll be the center of hot gossip among our extended family. It’s a sure fire way to make him go ballistic.

“Why so soon, though, Ari? You’re still young,” I can’t help but argue weakly.

“Aryan isn’t,” she confesses in a torn voice. “His parents are pressuring him and I can’t lose him, especially when I want the same. He can only hold them off for so long before he has to make a choice.”

My heart hurts at her dilemma and my hands sweat as I desperately think of a solution. I more than anyone understand the pressure, but still, I can’t just agree.

Because firstly, it’s insane. And secondly, who the hell am I going to marry?

It certainly won’t be the man my parents pick. They wouldn’t know the first thing about what I’m looking for in my partner. Though, they might say otherwise.

At the same time, I also can’t stand in the way of my sister’s happily ever after. Is that why she’s been distancing herself from me all this time?

“Ari.”

Closing the distance, she sits down beside me and takes my hand in hers. Squeezing it desperately with tears shining in her eyes, she pleads, “I know I’m being completely selfish for asking a lot from you, Bee, but please think about it. I’m not saying you have to do it right away. Just don’t be so closed off to the idea because, who knows, maybe you’ll meet the man of your dreams. I still believe the part of you that always yearned for love is still inside of you, no matter how hard you try to bury it.”

It’s my turn to look away, because her words hit too close. Was I that obvious? I want to deny that it isn’t true. I want to say she’s wrong and that I don’t have my heart closed off. But it’ll be a big fat lie.

The truth—my past—is an even harder pill to swallow.

Because no matter how hard we try, we could never let go of our past. It always has a hold on us, whether happy or painful, big or small. It shapes you into who you are, and so has mine.

I gave my heart to someone with my whole being, only for it to be carelessly thrown aside. Ever since then, I’ve been guarding the broken pieces. It took me months to finally let go, enough to cherish the other good things in my life. I learned my lesson and it was ugly.

Love is a curse and heartbreak is its penance.

Until today, my decision never bit me in the ass and had me wishing differently. I’m not okay knowing it’s affecting Arya, whom I can’t bear to hurt. I can’t be the cause of her heartbreak. It’s the one thing I despise the most.

So even though I have no clue on how to help her, I still nod and smile encouragingly. “I’ll give it a thought. I promise you’ll get your wedding like you’ve always dreamt, Ari.”

Jumping in excitement, she stands and wraps her arms around me while chanting, “Thank you, Bee. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She pulls back and the blinding smile on her face has me in a chokehold. It’s the one I haven’t seen in years pointed at me. She always brought out my elder sister’s instincts to protect and love her unconditionally. Now, I must find a way to not break my promise.

Even if I have to sacrifice my own future.