Zarar’s parents greet us together at the door to their gorgeous red brick suburban home like we’re the king and queen of the world. Hugs and praises and compliments and offers of any beverage under the sun. They’re both rather tall and slim, and I can see Zarar in their faces.

“Jamie, it’s so nice to finally meet you. You look lovely!” I’m wearing a pair of Siri’s black jeans and a blue blouse I stole from my mother’s closet.

“We’ve heard so much about you!” Zarar’s mother finishes as she fishes Siri’s leather jacket from my arms.

We follow them through a marble-tiled foyer and into the living room where I stop dead in my tracks as I catch sight of Terry on the couch with another handsome brown man, Z’s brother, Javed.

“Siri?” Terry balks.

I snatch Zarar’s hand and rush him back out into the foyer. His parents who were slowly walking behind us, watch in confusion as I unlock the front door, open it, and step outside, dragging him along with me.

“Zarar!”

“Jamie.”

“Is Terry your brother’s fiancée?” I ask in disbelief.

“She is.”

“Zarar!”

Zarar totally isn’t registering why I’m freaking out. “What?” he answers calmly.

I gesture wildly with my hands. “Why didn’t you tell me Terry was going to be here?”

He smiles. “I thought it’d be fun surprise to see another familiar face.”

He’s smiling for real with his teeth and entire mouth. I shake my head, grinning at him. “What the hell are you smiling about?”

He shrugs. “I like you.”

I snort and roll my eyes. “Okay, I think you’re forgetting a big piece of the puzzle right now—your family can’t see me, they see Siri. Terry can’t see me—she sees Siri and she knows us both.”

Zarar’s smile deflates. “Shit.”

I nod. “Yes, this complicates things because it seems you told your parents about me.”

“Of course I did, you’re a part of my life.”

I’m a part of his … We just … How does he blurt these things out with no regard for how ridiculous they may sound?

I close my eyes and exhale. “Terry’s probably in there telling him my name is Siri and it’s going to clash with what your parents know and it’s all about to get very confusing.”

Z presses his lips together. “I’m going to have to make up something about why you don’t look like yourself. I don’t want them to be baffled the next time they see you.”

The next time? I’m leaving tomorrow.

Zarar mulls this over for a few minutes while I wander around him in a slow circle, worrying that I shouldn’t have come. I probably shouldn’t have come. It was selfish to come.