“Also,” Shaila Aunty added, laughing, “Aziz was afraid you would change your mind and go with that other boy who wanted to marry you.”

Saira looked impressed. “Mum, you had two guys wanting to marry you?”

“Your mother was very popular with the boys then.” Shaila Aunty chuckled.

Reena looked at her mother, one eyebrow raised.

Mum snorted. “I was never going to marry Salim. My parents didn’t like him, so I didn’t like him.”

Reena dropped her kebob. “Holy Shit! Salim Shah!”

“Reena, language!”

“Salim Shah wanted to marry you, but you picked Dad! This explains everything!” Her father’s rivalry with the man now made sense.

Mum just shrugged. “I trusted my parents’ judgment. And it was the right choice, we’ve been very prosperous.”

What could she say to that? From everything she’d heard about Salim Shah, Mum’s parents were probably right. She understood Mum’s subtext, though—that Reena should trust her parents’ judgment. But if they didn’t really know her, how could they pick someone for her?

But maybe they didn’t know her because she didn’t let them. And, besides, she did fall in love with a man they chose for her. She had fallen so hard that she could barely think (or walk) straight today. They saw something in Nadim despite knowing so little about his past. Maybe they knew her better than she thought.

She should give them more credit for that.

But in the end, she was still losing him because of them. If she had met Nadim in any other circumstance, none of their issues would have existed. She closed her eyes, pushing past the tears she felt forming. She needed to change the subject.

“You didn’t marry him only because your parents wanted you to, did you? How could you know that would work?” Marley asked.

Mum smiled an unfamiliar smile. “You don’t. You take a leap of faith. It’s not hard, you know. You just need to find someone who makes you chai when you are tired, and who rubs your feet when they are sore instead of insisting you are wearing the wrong shoes.”

Mum made it seem so simple. And perfectly appropriate, considering Nadim’s little fetish.

“Now enough of this talk about marriages,” Mum said. “Let’s get to what’s important: weddings.”

As they walked toward the sari shop, Shaila Aunty clasped her hands together. “They fly in new stock from India every week. Only the latest designs. I asked the manager to put aside the best from this week’s shipment for us to look at.”

It was a huge shop, but instinctively, Reena went off on her own. Mum and Shaila Aunty seemed to be in some sort of contest for who knew the most about the newest styles coming out of India. And Marley, having more fashion sense in her pinky finger than the rest of them combined, acted as an age-appropriate advocate for Saira.

As Reena wandered toward the jewelry section of the store, she felt her phone vibrate with a text.