Page 58 of Don't Date Your Nemesis

As soon as I had said that, her demeanor changed, and she wanted me to marry Liam as soon as possible to produce her grandchildren who would win more Olympic medals.

Thinking about it made me shudder.

But now she was watching the door, waiting to meet my fake fiancé.

Liam showed up with Ethan, both of them fresh from a morning swim, hair still damp. He wore a navy-blue kurta which fitted him perfectly. I hated how good he looked in Indian clothes. How the color brought out his eyes and how the aunties were already whispering and staring.

Our eyes met across the room.

He nodded.

I nodded back.

Awkward. So fucking awkward.

Living with him had been… strange. It was scary and exciting in equal measure.

Scary because we weren’t fighting. Not really. We bickered about our work schedules and who ate the last of the Lucky Charms cereal, but the venom was gone, replaced by something softer.

Exciting because we were living under the same roof, sharing space, seeing each other first thing in the morning and last thing at night, and yet we hadn’t kissed. Hadn’t even touched beyond the necessary public displays. Yet.

The word hung between us like a promise. Or a threat.

Diya arrived with Yash, and they were immediately all over each other. Their hands intertwined, his mouth on her neck, giggling like teenagers who had just discovered sex.

The aunties stopped mid-conversation, and the uncles shifted uncomfortably. Even Kiara winced.

“Get a room,” someone muttered in Gujarati.

An aunt turned to me, pity in her eyes. “Beta, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I smiled, forcing enthusiasm into my voice. “Diya looks happy.”

The auntie tsked. “Still. It’s not proper. Sisters should not⁠—”

“Should not what?” I kept my voice light, but my eyes hard. “Fall in love? These things happen, and we have all moved on.”

The aunties exchanged glances and went back to their cake tasting.

I looked at Diya. My twin, my other half, the girl I had shared a womb with, fought with, loved despite everything, and felt the familiar ache of loss.

Despite being a little evil, she was still my sister.

We hadn’t talked to each other ever since I found her in my bed with him. It hurt more because she was the first person I went to whenever I had an issue. She knew how much I hated Liam, how he had lost our grandmother’s ring, how he made fun of me, and how terrible he was. She knew how much I liked Yash and…

I poured coffee for myself, but my hands shook slightly. There were too many people with too many questions about the engagement and too many pointed looks at Yash and Diya, then back at me and Liam.

Across the room, Liam was talking to my father, nodding seriously at whatever advice was being dispensed. He caught my eye and frowned slightly.

I forced a small smile and escaped to the kitchen to get some alone time. The bathrooms and guest room were occupied with great-granduncles or our cousin’s grandpa sleeping.

I escaped to the kitchen, grabbing the tray of gulab jamun that needed to be refilled. The sweets were perfectly soaked in the golden, sweet syrup, the kind my grandmother used to make.

“Dee.”

I turned to find Yash standing in the doorway, that familiar smirk on his face.

“You look good.”