Oh, You're So Cold by Saffron A. Kent

Author:Saffron A. Kent [Kent, Saffron A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Purple Prose Press LLC
Published: 2024-06-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

My biji thinks all of this is a bad idea.

First the engagement. Although she definitely thinks that the ring is amazing.

“Chalo, uss khote de puttar ke bhai ke pass toh thodi akal hai,” she mutters when I show her the ring. Followed by, “Haye rabba, anguthi toh dekh lo. Hamari kudi vargi haigi. Ek dum, first class.”

Resting my head on her shoulder, I roll my eyes. “Biji, translation please.”

She looks to the side and grabs my face.

Planting a big kiss on my forehead, she says, “I love the ring. It’s pretty. Just like you and I don’t know how those two could be related, let alone twins. When one clearly has excellent taste while the other still can’t get his head out of his ass.”

It takes me a few seconds to gather my wits about me and whisper, “Thank you.”

She waves my compliment away. “But are you sure, meri bacchi?”

I swallow. “Yes.”

“Because all of this is too soon. Being his girlfriend is one thing, but getting engaged is…” she trails off, shaking her head.

“It’s going to be fine. This is the right decision.”

It is.

I’ve thought about it and my decision to say yes is the right decision. My decision to trust Shepard is the right decision. Because what made me trust him in the first place still stands true: I can’t be trusted because my heart still belongs to the one who doesn’t know what to do with it. And if Shepard can fix it, fix me, then I should let him.

Besides, minus a few road bumps, the plan is the same.

To be the best fiancée to him.

Taking a bite out of her Pop-Tart, she says, “I still don’t like that you’re going on the road.”

Pop-Tarts are her favorites, so I bring them with me almost every visit. Along with kulfi, an Indian ice cream and gulab jamun, an Indian dessert. Usually, we watch movies, but today, we’re simply lounging on her bed, eating Pop-Tarts and shooting the shit. While her admirers go in and out, bringing her roses.

I twirl one in my hand. “Why not?”

Roses are my favorite flower.

I know, I know. I dream about the pink magnolias enough, but they’re my second favorites.

My top favorite will always be roses. They’re pretty and pink and velvety. Plus, they also remind me of a certain someone and his mouth. So ever since I’ve met him, I’ve taken to stealing some from my biji.

It’s pathetic, I know.

But no one has ever given me roses, so my options are kind of limited. I could go out and just buy them, but I think that’s more pathetic than never receiving one.

So stealing it is.

She looks back at me. “Because he’s going to be there.”

I squirm, hugging the rose to my chest. “It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m engaged now.” I show her my ring again. “It’s all good. I’m moving on from him. And this time I really mean it.”

Aside from what happened in the bathroom yesterday, that is.

Okay, I know what I did was bad.

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