Page 6

ARUSH

I’ve been on a plane many times. But I haven’t been to the United States yet. We’ve always focused on more local sites like Nepal, Thailand, Sri Lanka, Egypt, and as far north as Mongolia. The only place I’ve visited off the Asian continent is Egypt.

I’m excited about travelling to the US. To see the different cultures and cities. The way people dress and where they eat. All the places there are to see, like the Great Lakes and the Grand Canyon, and maybe even New York City.

First, there’s a seventeen-hour flight to get through.

I’m thankful that it’s non-stop and direct, and also that Julian upgraded me to the premium first class, where I practically have a mini apartment.

It’s absolutely incredible. I’ve been in first class many times because that’s the way my father likes to travel, but nothing like this.

The meals are the epitome of fine dining, I have access to hundreds of shows and movies, and my chair turns into an impressively decent-sized bed. Not that I’ll be able to sleep much. My stomach is twisting with anticipation. Every minute on this plane is a minute closer to my new husband.

Not that we’ve talked about getting married quite yet.

That’s the goal, though, right? The point of the site we both registered with is to find a husband.

A life partner. So it’s a discussion that didn’t need to happen right away.

It can be presumed that we silently agreed upon it once we agreed on each other.

There’s a chance that we’ll meet and not like each other.

A few short exchanges via text and email, as well as a short profile online, don’t tell you all you need to know about someone.

Even if everything I’ve read about him and the short conversations we’ve had have been really great and I love everything, it’s still different in person.

For starters, what if we’re not attracted to each other?

On the one hand, it’s not the biggest deal, right?

I think you can learn to love anyone if you open yourself up to it, even if they’re not visually appealing to you right away.

Even though our sexual attraction meters will likely align, based on what we each saw in the other’s profile, to me—maybe to us —it’s romantic attraction that’s going to matter most.

I know that’s what I crave. Based on Julian’s profile alone, I think that’s what he craves, too. We both want a romantic partner.

I’ve read his profile enough times that I think I’ve memorized it. As I lie in my plane bed and stare out the window at the stars, the words flutter through my mind. Various phrases that stick out among the hundreds of others.

Companionship. Laughter. Cuddling on the couch. Adventures together. Exploring new hobbies and places. Making memories.

I doze in and out with those warm thoughts making me smile.

The plane lands sometime after nine at night.

Since I practically went back in time during this flight, it’s still the same day I left India.

Time zones are weird. They’re needed and I totally get it but the way you can lose and gain an entire day really has a way of fucking with your internal clock.

In India, it’s ten in the morning right now - the next day.

But for me, it’s still the evening of February 7.

I get to my feet and stretch, trying not to be in a hurry. The two feelings war inside me. I want to get off this plane and finally step into my future, but I’m also slightly terrified. There are so many what-ifs. So many uncertainties.

The reality of the situation is hitting me right now. I don’t know this guy at all. This could go so, so horribly wrong. But it could also be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Needless to say, I’m hoping for the latter.

As the plane gets hooked up to the skywalk, I pull my backpack onto my back and dig out my carry-on from the mini closet in my airplane apartment.

Now, to wait as patiently as my jittery body will let me.

While I wait, I shoot texts to my father, my friends, and Julian to tell them I’ve landed and am waiting to deboard.

Finally, we’re heading for the door. As I step over the threshold, a burst of cold air whips up through the cracks between the plane and the skywalk, making me shiver. Huh. I didn’t take the change in climate into consideration when dressing for the plane.

I move as quickly as I can through the cold tunnel. Thankfully, the airport itself isn’t freezing. I follow the crowd and try not to imagine a movie where Julian first sees me and wraps me into his arms, holding me like he’s been waiting for me his entire life.

Is he bigger than me? Will I be dwarfed in his arms?

Or will I be bigger than him? He’s a hockey player, so…

those guys are big, right? It’s difficult to tell for sure on a television screen.

Then again, maybe we’ll be about equal. I’m not sure which scenario I like best, if I’m honest. They all have some appeal.

I’m sure whichever is reality will be my favorite.

The crowd I followed off the plane begins thinning as some people head for the restrooms and others stop to get something to eat.

I lock my eyes on one individual who seems to be headed for baggage claim and follow him.

The airport is large. There are people everywhere.

Noise everywhere. I’m afraid of missing a sign that points me in the direction I need to go.

Finally, the endless hiking and turns seem to end at a set of glass doors with security on either side as I’m sent into customs. Right.

I forgot about this long process. The line is…

not short. Frustrated that I’m throttled so close to finally meeting him, I sit on my carry on and type out a quick irritated message to my friends.

Me

Why do customs lines have to drag so slowly?!

Alok

Oh no. It’s like the universe wants to make you suffer.

Jash

But just think of the swoony moment you’re going to have on the other side! He’ll be there. Waiting.

I smile. Okay, not right on the other side. He’s in baggage claim.

Because it’s going to take a little longer than I realized, I send Julian another text.

Me

I forgot how long customs lines are. I’m still waiting. Be there as soon as I can.

Julian

Can’t wait.

My heart does a little dance and my stomach flips. It feels like my skin isn’t fitting right because I’m so anxious to get to him. I’m ready. I think Alok is right though. The universe is trying my patience. I’m ready to scream.

Which makes being super nice and polite to the girl asking me questions as she looks at my passport difficult. I’d been waiting for almost half an hour to get to this point.

Finally, by the time I feel like I’m going to explode, I’m let through. My heart races as I once again follow the crowd of people heading to baggage claim.

He told me he’d be wearing a bright blue beanie with his team logo, which he was kind enough to send to me. He’d also be holding a sign that had my name on it.

My stomach flips almost violently as I walk into the baggage area. My eyes dart around. I’m not sure who I’m looking for so I focus on the signs. There are men in suits with tablets and names on them. Last names.

My guy isn’t going to be one of them. He’s going to be beyond them.

I nearly trip and land on my face when I catch a glimpse of my name on a white sign.

People keep getting in my way, so it isn’t until I’m almost to him that I’m able to lay my eyes on him.

As soon as I do, it feels as if I’ve always had his face in my mind.

He has beautiful brown skin and piercing brown eyes, even from a distance.

He flashes a kid a smile as they walk by and my stomach flips.

His smile is… it makes my heart race. I can’t tell much more about him since he’s wearing a beanie and a thick jacket over light washed jeans. But everything inside me says he’s swoony.

He watches the people spill out of the terminal to baggage claim. Looking for me? He must be. That’s why he’s here. It isn’t until I’m nearly right in front of him that he meets my eyes.

Licking my lips as I stop in front of him, I ask, “Julian?”

His eyebrows knit together. “Yes.”

I wait a beat and I immediately realize something’s wrong. I tap the sign with my name on it. “I’m Arush.”

Now he frowns. “You are.” He says it not as a question but it’s still unsure. I nod anyway.

Julian shakes his head. “I think…” He pauses to consider me, his eyes moving down my body for a second and then his frown deepens. “Arush Bakshi?”

I grin. “It’s BAHk- she , but yes, that’s me.” I pull out my passport and show him, which I probably didn’t need to do. His eyes flicker over the information and then meet mine again.

“Please don’t take this as an insult or anything, but I was expecting a woman.”

“From Male Order Spouses?” I ask, confused.

“Yes.”

A beat passes. “Male . As in, not female,” I say.

He’s still looking at me like I have three heads. Pulling out my phone, I bring up the site and point at the world. “Male. As in not female,” I reiterate.

“Oh wow,” he says and then bursts out laughing. It’s the kind of laugh that I swear I can feel vibrate through me. Even though this meeting is not how I imagined it would go, his laugh makes me smile. “My brain wanted to see mail, so that’s what it saw. Homonyms for the win, I guess.”

I nod. Okay, cute and funny I suppose, but this is now a disaster. My chest hurts and I think I’m going to throw up. “Are you going to return me?”

Julian’s amusement dies quickly. “Return you?”

I nod again. It’s hard to breathe, like someone just cut off the oxygen flow in this enormous room.

“You’re not a possession, Arush. Not an object to return. No, I’m not returning you.”

While the words feel right and his tone is indignant at the notion, I’m not sure that’s reassuring. I’m not who he thought he was getting. I’m not the perfect Indian wife. Is that what he was looking for? And he got me instead?

“Come on,” he says, letting the sign with my name on it drop to his side. “Let’s get your bags.”

I nod. I have questions. The biggest, most pressing is what the hell does this mean? Where do we go from here? All that hope, the dream of having a life that I might not have found in India, suddenly feels even further away.

Julian isn’t gay, apparently. He’s just oblivious and didn’t read the name of the damn site correctly.

There’s a word for that. When your brain arranges letters to form a word you expect to see.

He was looking for mail and… I suppose I can see that mistake being made easily enough.

And sure, if it happened to someone else, I might even find it a little bit funny.

I find it less funny right now because it feels like my future is suddenly on thin ice and it’s cracking.

I had all these imaginings of years from now.

The things we’d see, the places we’d go, the memories we’d make.

Now I can’t even be sure what’s going to happen tomorrow.

The bubbling emotions in me bring tears to my eyes.

How could this go so horribly wrong?

I’d thought the lack of pictures on profiles was a good thing. I’d liked the philosophy of falling in love with a person. Making a connection based on common wants, goals, and needs, as opposed to how someone looks.

Apparently, there’s a drawback. I wonder how often this happens. There’s no way this is the first and only time, right? Yeah, it’s definitely not funny.

We wait silently at the luggage carousel. It takes me a minute to realize that he doesn’t know what my luggage looks like and while I’m ready to call my father and ask for some advice while I fight back tears in an airport bathroom stall, I can’t do that.

I’m twenty-five. I made this decision all on my own and now I need to see it through. No matter what that means. Even if that means going home with my proverbial tail between my legs and admitting to my father that I really fucked up.

I leave my carry-on beside Julian when I see one of my large suitcases. He’s at my side as soon as I begin pulling it off the belt. My second and third are right behind it. Together, we manage to rescue all three without having to chase them.

“This is all of them,” I say.

Julian inclines his head and manages to take all three as he leads me to the door. I’m trailing behind, more unsure with each step. My thoughts almost freeze when the automatic doors open and a cold blast of wind comes at me. I shiver, turning my face away.

“Come here,” Julian says.

Glancing up, squinting through the tears in my eyes at the bitter cold, I find Julian at the side of the doors, just inside. I follow as he shrugs out of his jacket and holds it open for me. I meet his eyes, my breath feeling stuck for just a second.

Without a word, I set my backpack at my feet and slide my arms into the sleeves of his jacket. It’s warm with his body heat and instantly thaws me. Without meaning to, I close my eyes as I wrap it tighter over my chest. Much better.

When I meet Julian’s eyes again, he’s looking at me with a small smile. Amused maybe. I feel a blush heating my cheeks. Maybe because I just kind of embarrassed myself, but also maybe because he has a beautiful smile. Even a tiny one like that.

“Ready?” he asks.

I nod. “Thank you.”

He mimics my nod, and once again leads me outside. It’s still icy, especially when the wind blows, but his jacket certainly helps block it. I don’t feel that chill in my bones anymore.

He’s parked in a parking garage and we load my luggage into the back of his SUV. He’s gentlemanly and opens my door for me before rounding the car to climb inside. The heat immediately comes on and I’m ridiculously thankful for it.

We drive in silence. I’m chewing the inside of my lip so much that there’s a chance it might be raw by the time we get to his house.

“Are you hungry?”

I shake my head. “No,” I answer, my voice only barely above a whisper.

“How was the food on the plane?”

“Incredible,” I admit. “Really good. The whole experience was really pleasant. Thank you for the upgraded accommodations.”

I receive another small smile. “You’re welcome. It’s a long flight. I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

My chest tightens. He didn’t want his future wife to be uncomfortable. “Julian?”

He glances at me.

“Just so you know, I’m still the same person you chose.”

He sighs and once more, that small smile touches his lips. “I know, Arush.”

But does he?